THE HEALER ON THE BRIDGE. (First published in THE CIRCULAR)
I moved to Anglesey from Sussex about two and a half years ago,
to be near my family. My sister Josie had moved there about a year
before. My younger sister Melly and her husband Frank and two boys, had
bought a large, rambling house called The Firs (see Ordnance Survey
Map. Extreme North) in Angelsey about a year before and were in the
process of `doing it up`. Josie was invited to stay with them and was
soon joined by my nephew Quenton, Josie’s son. My brother Kevin and his
wife also live in West Wales.
You can see that, all in all, my mother and I were kind of
obligated to do the same. My mother hates it here because it’s so
remote and far from the madding crowd. She is a shopping kind of
person, she also objects to the hills, which get under her feet. Well,
that kind of sets the scene for what was to follow.
Before I left Sussex, I was a sort of `Trainer` or `Coach` in
the psychic arts: teaching folk about the art of `seeing` and
`communication`. Toward the end of my time in Sussex I too was having
trouble communicating with my own speech, my physical speech.
To cut a long story to ribbons: when I arrived in Wales it was
only a month or so when I had my first `fit`, then another. I was
diagnosed with a meningioma (a tumour on the brain about the size of an
orange. They did not specify what size of orange: a Jaffa or the
smaller Spanish variety) They removed it at the Walton Hospital for
Neurology, Liverpool. After a few complications they sent me home to
recuperate. It was then that I first met him: The healer on the bridge!
I always make a habit of greeting the Guardian of a place,
whether it be a sacred place of power, a wood, field, or an ancient
church. They always have their Guardians, without exception. A place
will always fall into the embrace of some Guardian or other. (The area
is always triangular in shape. In my experience, that is). The ancient
Hill Fort of Cissbury in Sussex has three Guardians, Emun, Rachael and
Tryst. This being an exception to the rule. Wolstonbury Hill has one
Guardian, Damus: a Druid, or Drood, as Damus told me, relating to the
collective.
Guardians work closely with the Devic forces but in no way
`control` them. The Devas' work with them not for them. On the whole
the Devic forces (elementals) do not trust human beings, and who can
blame them? Most human beings spread poison on the land in their
ignorance: Oh, Nature can cope, nature can adapt. Human beings are
brought up `blind` to what is around them. They are taught from infancy
to be blind. Devas work with the Guardians because they choose to do
so, knowing that in them they have an ally, someone they can trust. A
Guardians` work is primarily to do with earth maintenance, keeping the
energy lines clear. Though their job is becoming harder and more
difficult as human beings continue to deny them, to deny that they even
exist! Mind you, I cannot imagine teaching a class of kids about
Guardians: Right children, today we are going to talk about Guardians.
Of course you cannot actually see them, but they are there
none-the-less! Oh I don’t know though. Perhaps it would work! Angelic
beings are taught in schools where religious instruction is given, and
you can’t see them! Well, only the privileged few.
As I have already said, I always make a habit of greeting the
Guardian of a place. In Cemaes Bay, Angelsey, where I live, there
runs through the village a little river called the Wygyr (pronounced
Wigear). It runs lazily through a little wooded area where once ran a
small steam tram. Remains of the `track` can still be seen. I can never
quite understand why folk don’t take advantage of this little piece of
tranquillity. Apart from the odd walker it remains, on the whole,
deserted.
As I made my way down the steep pathway that leads from the main
A5025 road, I directed my thought in a greeting. Instantly there came
back a reply! "Greetings to you too, my friend. It ís been a long time
since anyone has spoken to me. In your terms maybe 2 or 3 hundred
years." Now I'd had considerable experience with Guardians but never
such a quick response as this! I asked him about his work here and he
directed me to an area where an energy line (Courier line: giver and
receiver of information) ran through a section of river, just before
the water tumbles and swirls into a pool before making the ultimate
journey to the sea. There is an energy spiral here! He pointed. I can
feel it! I replied. I understood from him that he keeps the energy lines
clear in Cemaes, or tries to.
The Guardianís name is Cydwr. A Druid (no surprise there!). He
stands no more than 5 foot 6 inches. He wears a robe of rough cloth
that has a headpiece that comes down to his shoulders, tied around the
forehead. He is rotund, cutting a Friar Tuck figure. In his right hand
he holds a staff made of plain wood, not carved in any way. "Do you
require Healing?"."Why yes, I replied." "Are you a healer, too?" "Some
say." He said. "But I require you to stand on the bridge. I work better
over flowing water. The energy generated from flowing water over rocks
is all-important."
I made my way to one of the little bridges that span the river,
the one nearest the High Street in Cemaes. The one where the mouth of
the river gently bites the sea. I stopped mid-way. I closed my eyes. At
this stage it must be pointed out that I never respond to healers in
the usual way, whoever they happen to be. I don’t feel heat. I don’t
feel a tingling sensation. None of that. But I do feel relaxed. It was
the same with Cydwr (pronounced CUDdoor with a slight roll of the
tongue). Only I felt very relaxed.
Through the months that followed I was receiving healing every
time that I went down to this little piece of paradise. Almost every
day, in fact! I was also receiving healing from a local healer who came
once a week. I needed all the help I could get!
But was it Cydwr or the local healer. Or a combination of the
two? I came to the conclusion that it was the latter. Cydwr worked more
on my mental rather than physical self.
I had visitors. A couple from the South of England. A couple of
my old students. I took them down to meet Cydwr. They at once felt his
presence, his warmth of welcome. I said to Jim, who was having trouble
with his lower back, to stand on the bridge and let Cydwr do his stuff.
After a couple of minutes he described the warmth that he felt in his
back: Something ís happening, he said. The pain, he said, was
subsiding. He came away feeling considerable better. The pain had
vanished.
Another of my ex-students, a student with the gift of seeing,
described him in every detail, without a prompting from me, exactly as I
had seen him. She even found the spiral of energy cascading out from
the cluster of rocks connected to the Courier Line. Again, without any
prompting from me.
The Healer on the Bridge is a reality. Go to him with your aches
and pains, no matter how mundane. You have nothing to lose but face.
Never take this Guardian/Healer for granted though. Always ASK him
first! If you ask him first, I guarantee that he will respond, even if
only to comfort you. No healer worth their salt can ever guarantee a
cure, and Cydwr is no exception to that rule.
You do not have to believe, but it helps. You do not have to be a
Christian, a Buddhist, a Muslim or whatever. Just go with an inquiring
mind, an open mind. It helps, too, that you have an open heart!
(Later on I checked the bridge by dowsing. It had a Courier
line running almost parallel with it. Plus: a healing line that runs
crosswise, about four-foot wide. The other little bridge near the main
A5025 had a healing line that just missed the bridge. I managed to move
it directly over the flowing water. This bridge is now `Healer
Friendly` but lacks the rocks which generate greater energy. A Courier
line is a Giver and Receiver of information connected to most Standing
Stones by a seven looped spiral and in turn connected to EVERY human
being on this planet by their chakric system.)
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