Serena awoke at 3-33 am as was usual on significant days. This, however, was no ordinary significant day; it was the most significant day of her life. In fact it would be the same for every human being on earth who, for now, was mostly unaware.
This was the first day of twenty-one days that would change the world as we know it. On the twenty second day a New World, eons in the making, would reveal itself.
Serena scanned the large dormitory bedroom in this strange house from which the radical changes would be transmitted. Never in a million years could she have guessed that the revelations would manifest in this way.
Serena looked lovingly at the Blue Book on her bedside table. The Blue Book was testament to her parent’s dedication and love for herself and ‘The Work’. The title ‘Alpha & Omega, The Awakening’, writ large in radiant gold letters, stood out against the brilliant sapphire blue of the magnificent book.
Three years before their death, her folks had made their painstaking and final contribution to the mission they had been born to fulfil. Since 1963 they had recorded every relevant dream, message, prophesy and future vision Serena had received or experienced since she was three years old. Then in 2005, upon the directions of The Light Beings, Clare and Francis had meticulously poured over all of the remarkable revelations their daughter had shared with them. They précised, transcribed and condensed the great tomes of material gathered over a lifetime into one succinct book of revelation regarding the Science of Light and the great leaps in human consciousness that had come to pass since time and space was born. This, however, was a very different kind of leap.
Since the early sixties the evolution of consciousness had moved on with great intensity and speed and the world felt it on every level of its being.
The Awakening of humanity was growing at the speed of Light. The enlightenment, now exponential in its nature, was unstoppable. The first 22 years of the 21st century saw the final birthing pains and they were terrible and exhilarating. Letting go of the old ways to make way for the new was experienced by everyone on the planet, both individually and collectively.
The globe itself had indeed become the venue for every Shakespearean play ever written. The new technology, for the first time in history, would facilitate humanity watching everything together worldwide and in real time. The upheaval, the loss of security, the unbelievable extremes of behaviour, the riots, the political chaos, biblical weather, the disasters, man-made and natural, left everyone in a state of shock, paralysis and unknowing.
The quickening in the sixties was in sync with the arrival of Serena. She was one of a multitude of children from a higher light, born to change the world as we knew it. They were the first wave of a higher frequency, birthed to experience life on earth for the first time. Many more would follow.
Fran and Clare knew they had been re-born eons of time to prepare the path ready for these future children who would change the world. Like millions of other Pioneers they had slowly enlightened the frequencies every lifetime on earth since time began. Like many other parents they had been chosen to nurture and protect these special children who were highly sensitive, not only to the Spirit, but also to living on this lower realm which was so alien to them. Having completed their life’s mission to record and finish the Radiant Book and in the knowledge that Serena was ready, they both died in 2008, within a month of each other.
2008 was the radical year Serena was to ‘go it alone’, not only in losing her devoted parents and confidants but also by being prevented from remembering any contact with her Light team or their plans for the final manifestations. At first she was devastated but she knew their constant presence and guidance would continue, albeit in an invisible and silent way.
She knew it was necessary for her and everyone on earth to ‘Come into their own’ by their own calling of their Higher Selves. The urge to awaken, the spark to ‘Know Thyself’ was in the Spiritual DNA of every single individual and when they did awaken from the long sleep, the PARTICLE WOULD BECOME THE WAVE in the evolution of human consciousness.
After eons of time of living from the outside in, reacting to the dense and lower frequency of matter, humanity was finally going within to meet their higher self, vibrating on a finer frequency, waiting silently for the call.
Serena had watched the prophesies unfold throughout her life and now in her late forties there were billions experiencing the same inner initiations that the mystics, guru’s, mystery schools and secret societies had kept secret until the masses were ready to emerge. The Flower Power of the sixties had been a great springboard for Love and Light to descend upon the sleeping masses and it was radical.
Individual awakenings and becoming radiant in the world was spreading like wild fire. The beings had told her that Light would become exponential simply because of its very nature in relation to consciousness. Serena didn’t really understand the science of Light or the mechanics of exponential magnetism and radiance but she certainly saw the evidence of it.
Before they became silent, the Beings had told her that she would be led magnetically to kindred spirits in the same Soul signature group and they would experience instant re-cognition and an inner knowing of what they should do to further The Work. There was the greatest Ethereal Soul Dating Agency directed from the higher realms and people started to re-member and re-cognise.
Groups were sparking into being all over the Planet, Lighting up the collective and the Sacred Land. It was as if their certainty and acknowledgement of IT made it a reality in the world. They had also informed her that many films and books would be released in the next decade which would inspire and awaken humanity to realise they were so much more than material beings. On hearing all this she knew it was only a matter of years before the great changes would manifest.
It was also back in 2008 that Serena was led to The Secret History of The World by Jonathan Black, a wonderful book which gave her wonderful confirmation of all that her guides had told her about mind before matter – that of enlightenment through dense matter by the universal mind until the individual and collective consciousness was refined enough to realise they were one and the same.
All stages from the vegetable mind to the present so-called sophisticated people, steeped in materialism, void of any beliefs in a great spiritual power, was just a blip, and a necessary one, in the evolution of Human Consciousness.
Now there was a huge movement to consciously take the journey home to a higher dimension upon the continuum of light, a ladder of ascending light frequencies, on which they had previously descended.
Serena saw that already the demise of organised religion was setting humanity free. People were finding their own enlightenment, either through the lessons of their shadow selves or through the emerging light consciousness now awakening in humanity. Thankfully, they did not throw the baby out with the bath water and personal spirituality was transforming themselves and others.
Running parallel with this radical revolution was the rise of new technologies which not only connected everyone instantly for the first time in known history but was also the nearest thing to telepathy, which was the way of communion in the other world. She saw that the new technologies were also shining a light on all those in power for the world to see and it was appalling, shocking, freeing and illuminating. There were few role models and the masses were ready to start reflecting and going within for the answers.
The Scientists were becoming the new Mystics and Alchemists, revealing worlds within worlds and the perception that everything was connected, albeit in string! They studied the power of mind, thought and intention which would affect whatever they wanted to prove or indeed manifest. Consciousness was teaching us through experience, experimentation and the rational mind, what the secret societies and the Secret Doctrine had known all along.
Isis Unveiled was no longer for the few initiates
and Blake’s Divine Imagination,
THE DIVINE ‘I MAGI NATION’ WAS AWAKENING!
Nine billion humans were beginning to consciously make the return journey home, led by their Higher Selves, powerful instruments of Light, from which the Divine ‘In –Tuition’ would lead them on in sync with the Intelligent and all-knowing universal mind.
Now here in this house awaiting the start of the collective human journey to a new paradigm, Serena took her mind back to when the Light beings returned to her out of the blue. Serena was delighted and in a state of bliss and heightened awareness for weeks.
They told her that the Critical Mass of Light would finally be achieved on the 22nd September, 2019 following a worldwide meditation for Peace. This higher light would seep into the world in preparation for the event. People would feel something extraordinary and life changing, experiencing a new feeling of well being, no matter what was happening in the world.
She was informed exactly what she had to do and she was utterly shocked at the way the changes would come about but, as always, she held the Faith in total trust. It was written in her DNA as it was in everyone and everything in existence. It couldn’t fail! Now finally, here in this house in the year 2022, Serena knew the Beings of Light could safely enter the earth realm, integrate and align the frequencies and dimensions, without radiating its inhabitants.
This had been made clear to Serena and Paige two days before on Silbury Hill, Wiltshire on their way to the house when they were filled with the radiance that was about to fall on earth.
Serena looked across at her young companion Paige sleeping peacefully. In just a few hours it would begin when they would be joined by the others for the opening.
To be continued……..
Lydia stood perfectly still, holding the microphone in one hand and a quartz crystal pyramid in the other. She took a deep breath before facing the hundreds of cheering fans waiting outside the house, and the millions watching at home. Doing the final touch up, Stella, the make – up artist, felt concerned; she had never known Lydia to be so quiet in the ten years she had prepared her for opening nights.
Lydia may have appeared quiet but inside her head she was buzzing with nerves and excitement as never before. This was not meant to happen; she was meant to be at home, relieved to be watching someone else presenting the show, but her life had turned upside down in the last twelve months since resigning from the reality show, and here she was again.
Lydia stepped out from behind the screen to tumultuous applause and shrieks of delight. Wearing a fitted black dress to accentuate her curves and her grandmother’s pearls, she managed to walk gracefully in her killer heels. Looking radiant with an easy smile, her lustrous auburn hair, and sensuous, warm, brown eyes, she connected with her audience, but her radiance had an added dimension; thrilled to get the blue line this morning, a pregnant Lydia had never felt happier or more confident.
Walking up and down, waving, and greeting the fans whilst also making eye contact with the camera, Lydia waited until she heard the almost inaudible change; it was then that she took control; ensuring she achieved silence and the total focus on her.
Richard, the producer, smiled. She was a pro second to none and her timing and body language were impeccable. He was beside himself with glee and self-satisfaction that he had managed to get her back, ignoring the fact that the decision to return was solely Lydia’s.
Within minutes, however, his face darkened as Lydia turned and, looking straight into camera one, went off script. Her beautiful eyes looked bigger than ever and her demeanour was one of sincerity and integrity. Everyone watching sensed a difference, something not planned. She started, ‘You may wish to know why I am back?’ The hush spread throughout the crowd instantly and the silence was heavy with expectancy. At home the viewers, putting down their food and drinks, were glued to the screen.
In the days leading up the new series of the reality show the papers had had a field day speculating why she had returned after last year’s public announcement that she was retiring in order to spend more time with her family. She had been resolute she would never return and then suddenly she was back. The reasons the papers gave for her comeback, reported to have come from an unnamed close friend, ranged from the fact that her marriage was on the rocks and she needed the money, right through to speculation about her mental health. Well, the mental health bit was true, Lydia conceded, but quite the reverse to what the reporters thought.
After all the media hype and the fact that Lydia was loved by her public, the projected ratings had gone through the roof, much to the delight of the producers.
Lydia took a deep breath. ‘I left the show last year because I could no longer be involved with the cruelty and the humiliation of vulnerable people’. Richard’s heart dropped. She went on, ‘I would not have returned if things hadn’t changed drastically. I am here because I know that this show shall be like no other. We are all about to embark on a life changing journey that will change the world as we know it and the name of the show shall now be known as ‘Big Sister’.
There was a silence while the crowd waited for more and tried to get their heads around what she was saying. After a few seconds, when it became obvious she was not going to enlighten them any further, a young woman near the front started to clap, delighted that the show had been renamed Big Sister. That clap broke the spell and, with the power of group consciousness, people slowly and sporadically joined in until everyone was clapping and screaming as enthusiastically as before. From a distance, the viewers at home looked at each other bemused and many remarked that perhaps the papers were right about Lydia’s mental state.
One by one Lydia introduced the house mates and to the relief of the fans, they were as weird as ever, in fact more so because unusually some of them didn’t seem to want to be there at all. This lot were going to be good to watch!
The eight house guests walked the gauntlet of screaming, jeering Fans who in a short time would decide their fate, or so they thought.
They and the millions at home watching, were informed by Lydia that there were also some mystery guests already installed and waiting in the house.
For the next two hours everyone watching was so embroiled in the personalities of the contestants entering the house that they almost forgot anything Lydia had said about the show changing the world, apart from the constant references to newly named Big Sister House.
The first to arrive on set in a black cab was Dexter from Liverpool, chosen first because he was eye candy. Dexter was thrilled to hear the screams of approval. He was six foot three, dark eyes, dark hair and a body sprayed tanned and toned to perfection. It had cost a fortune to look this casual. Waving and smiling to the fans, he was practising his opening lines as he ascended, and on reaching Lydia he looked straight into her eyes, flashed his best smile, made possible by thirty grand’s worth of dental work, and said ‘You're more beautiful in the flesh, aren’t you?’ Lydia had seen and heard it all before and without making a response asked him where he came from, although his accent made it immediately obvious.
Made easy by Lydia’s questions, he thought he gave a good account of himself, but all over the country many women of a certain age were singing ‘You’re so vain, you probably think this show is about you – Don’t you – Don’t you?
Well, he would agree. When it comes to business Dex has got what it takes! At 27, he’d already made a fortune selling ringtones. He has it all, a Porsche, a Penthouse apartment in the heart of the City and his happiest achievement yet, a box at Liverpool FC. He wears Versace and ships in Italian furniture. His bedroom is the envy of his mates and is covered from floor to ceiling in mirrors. The black silk laden super king bed he calls his ‘shagster …. has seen some action, I can tell you’
‘Wait till my f.....g teachers see me now and they can shove calling me ‘Thick, a Clown and a No hoper’ up their £25,000 a year arses’.
‘Let me entertain you, Sexy Dex’ couldn’t believe his luck at being here. Not only would it be great advertising for the business, it wouldn’t harm his sex life either.
As he made his way to the door, Lydia announced that there was a surprise waiting inside. He wasn’t the first to enter the house as there were three people installed already who had been preparing things for a couple of days. Once inside the house the camera homed in on three people, an old guy, an old woman, and Paige, a previous winner, who was presently out of favour in the celebrity stakes. The baying, fickle, crowd was ecstatic to see Paige, whom they loved and hated in equal measure.
Showing no animosity, unlike the fans who groaned and booed when they saw Paige, Dex gave the same treatment to Paige he gave to all women and they immediately started up a conversation. Like the fans at home and on the set, the old couple held no interest at all even though Lydia introduced Serena and John as people who would make the show an unforgettable experience. Responding unenthusiastically to this announcement, the camera panned to Paige who was clapping John and Serena like a fool. The audience thought that, as ever, she was still as thick as they come.
The next to arrive was Star, even more delight to the eye, she was eighteen, mixed race, and gorgeous. Unlike Dexter she was shy and being nervous all she could do was giggle. Lydia was kindness itself to this young girl. Everyone loved her immediately, especially Dex, who now turning to give his full attention to the telly forgot all about Paige. He was at the door to be the first to welcome his next conquest, and he was right, she would be.
Star, a beautiful and naive girl, hoped her career as a model would take off after the show. From a little girl she had put on her mum’s make-up and shoes, her princess dresses and modelled catwalk shows for her mum and grandma, her greatest fans, whom she loved with all her heart.
Born to her mixed Anglo/African mother and her white cockney father on an inner London estate in 2005 she had always had a dream of being rich and famous when she would buy her mum and grandma a big house in the country.
She didn’t remember her Dad; he had left when she was 5 months old and her mum said he used to beat her up so she never did want to find him. Anyway, she didn’t need him because she had her mum and Gran.
She hadn’t liked school and couldn’t wait to leave to start work at Boots on the Make-up counter. Of course, she had to work her way up from stacking shelves. In her spare time she was now modelling for Carl’s hairdressers down the West End and he had sent her photos to get her on the Reality Show. Carl thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.
She couldn’t believe her luck when she got the acceptance letter and then her lovely Gran gave her all her life savings and sent her and her Mum off to Selfridges to buy clothes for the show.
Entering the house she was surprised and flattered when a fit looking bloke was waiting for her as she entered the room, but all she could do was giggle, and worse still she felt her face getting hotter. No doubt, she thought, she was as red as a beetroot.
Damian took the steps two at a time, making sure his Black cape billowed out behind him. This was the most exciting day of his life and he couldn’t contain himself. He couldn’t stop smiling even though he had practised his sultry look for hours. He was head to foot in black with mystical symbols painted on his somewhat spotty face. He was thin and gawky with a broad Lancashire accent and everybody loved him immediately. Had Aunty Doris been alive she would have said ‘You look as daft as a brush’
Brought up in a neat, laced curtained terraced house in Burnley by his childless elderly aunty and uncle, his parentage was shrouded in mystery.
Always a handful for them, they gave in and let him do exactly what he wanted, and what he wanted he was never sure, so he tried everything. An identity crisis waiting to happen, he was now in his Satanist Phase and he had renamed himself via the WWW Deed Poll site from Geoffrey Tindall to Damian B. Crowley.
Well here he was. Aunty Doris and Uncle Len had both died within days of each other last year. Even though he had hardly seen then for five years, they left him the house and their life savings, earned from their lifelong graft at the Coop and the electronics factory.
He used the money to make a few alterations. He’d had a nose and an ear job. ‘God knows who they were, but mi Mam and Dad must have been ugly bastards’ he told the cosmetic surgeon. Although his best mate Alan thought Geoffrey’s previous ears and nose were more fitting for a Satanist.
He’d kitted himself and his flat out completely in black and taken Alan on a tour following Alistair Crowley’s life.
He had done the rituals, said the chants and been in an on-line coven. Self-taught in the arts, mainly through reading, he knew he had a mission to fulfil. Twenty-three years old, unemployed and broke again he was now hoping for some recognition of his powers and come out with a following.
His mate Alan, now his agent and re-named A. Crow, would look after the web site whilst Damian was in the house and get all the fans signed up at a tenner a time to become a fan club member.
Damian entered the house but unlike the others was immediately drawn to John. Struck by the power surrounding John, Damian kept one eye on him whilst making small talk to the group. It was as if John was present but not present. Damian was fascinated.
All seated again to watch who the next house mate would be, the contestants were glued to the telly all except Damian who found it hard to concentrate. He was losing control of his senses, receding into himself into unknown territory, when suddenly he felt something wash over him, like a shower but dry. It was something he was to become more and more familiar and at ease with in the coming weeks but for now he was desperately trying to resist it.
Waiting around the corner in the fourth taxi was Rachel, looking pale and anxious and in no mood to respond to the driver trying to pull her, apart from telling him in a very cultured voice to ‘F off’.
Getting the call, the driver, now silent and sullen, started the engine and slowly drove the half mile to the set. As they pulled near, seeing the blindingly bright stage lights and hearing the deafening crowds, Rachel knew she was going to vomit, and she decided to run as soon as the car door was open. Suddenly she detached from it all and everything became silent. It was as though she was looking down from high above the set. She could see the lights, the crowds, the cameras and Lydia looking towards the car where she sat looking absolutely terrified, but she didn’t feel anything. As the taxi door opened, Rachel was back to herself and as a feeling of calm came over her, she stepped out into the light and, in a trance like state, went to meet her fate.
Her interview went OK thanks to Lydia, who sensed Rachel’s indefatigable, courageous spirit and the momentous choices this young woman had made to reveal herself, in spite of herself. The consequences on her, her family and the viewers would be a huge wake up call. Rachel answered the questions but couldn’t remember what she was asked or what she said, it was as though she was dreaming. The crowds were welcoming enough but Rachel didn’t particularly spark a big interest and they felt indifferent. Some girls raised their eyebrows and made the look to each other which in their silent language said ‘Stuck up cow’
Rachel looked classy, was tall, long legged and shapely with prominent features that were far more attractive when she smiled, but she was doing little of this today. She entered the house in a daze, shaking hands and nodding politely. Then suddenly and out of the blue introduced herself with a new and exotic name and sat down. She didn’t connect with anyone. She sat facing the TV screen lost in thought. Everything about her appeared incongruous.
For seven years Rachel had led a double life and had chosen the show to ‘out’ her alter ego.
Brought up in a wealthy family in a leafy suburb of London, Rachel had her every desire and whim fulfilled; she wanted for nothing and yet she always felt empty, lost and insecure. She was now 27 and the family was beginning to lose patience. The pressure to go out with no end of boys from the local synagogue had been relentless and her parents were now running out sons of friends. The pressure on her was immense and it was after yet another row that she saw the advert for the programme and applied. Once things were in motion, they moved quickly and her rage and resentment kept her going – until now.
She knew the only reason she got on the show was because she was ready to spill the beans about her secret life and the producers would see to it that she did. She was really scared.
The letter to her parents must have arrived that morning because from 11 am her mobile hadn’t stopped ringing in the secret hotel room where she was holed up. She arranged for calls from the show to come through the switchboard and switched her mobile off. She ran a bath, lowered the lights, lit fragrant candles and soaked herself in Jo Malone bath oil whilst listening to Adele on her I Pod.
Constant replenishing of hot water enabled her to soak for over an hour and wrapping herself in a fluffy white dressing gown she got into bed and had a fitful sleep punctuated by dreams of her drowning and being unable to swim. She got up just after two and took hours getting ready. She had told Lucy from the show that she would manage her own make- up and hair and at two thirty her hairdresser arrived. Just under an hour later Rachel opened the wardrobe and spent another hour trying one designer outfit after another until she decided to wear a Dolce and Gabbana dress, Bottega Veneta bag and Jimmy Choo heels.
Having had years of having to look her best, Rachel had attended regular personal make-up courses with the lovely Jemma Kidd, and she was expert at applying both day and night looks. She had her makeup application down to a fine art and at 5 -30 she stepped out of The Dorchester and into one of their taxis, looking stunning but feeling like death. She hadn’t eaten all day knowing that if she did, she would throw up. Now she was here and there was no going back.
Going off the rails big time in her final year at Uni but remaining a ‘good girl’ at home she had lived the lie for long enough.
Upon entering the house, as arranged with the producers, she introduced herself as Bathsheba, her professional name.
As she sat in the house watching Lydia welcome Andy, the next housemate to arrive, Rachel was lost in her own world. She had sent the letter yesterday and no doubt her family would all be huddled together in horror and shame as they watched their princess enter the house and announce to the world, she was an escort and lap dancer called Bathsheba! She wondered if Omar was watching too, and what he would be thinking.
They had met in their first year at University and had felt an immediate attraction.
Albeit poles apart in culture, religion and lifestyle, they had a lot in common. Both had been brought up to observe strict religious laws and to socialise in circles only of their own kind. They had both gone to religion schools and were both expected to marry one of their own. Ancestral expectations, rules and behaviour patterns had been passed down successfully for generations. Leaving their safe and disciplined environment at eighteen, unprepared for the freedom that most of their fellow students had known for years, both felt shy and neither of them had been intimate in any way, with anyone.
All their pent-up feelings and suppressed sexuality couldn’t be contained any longer. They couldn’t keep their hands off one another and within hours they had lost their virginity.
In term- time they would make love, laugh and talk throughout the night. For one glorious year she felt alive, beautiful and loved for herself. Together, she and Omar felt wonderfully free and strong enough to conquer the world. But that was then, and now their family had other plans for them.
Unlike Rachel, Andy was really excited and couldn’t wait for this evening to arrive. Everything had just fallen into place after he was inspired to apply for the show. His Bishop, whom he thought would be the most difficult to persuade, had been enthusiastic and Andy couldn’t believe how easily he agreed to what Andy had named his Media Missionary Work.
He was confident he would go the distance and had set to work immediately having twenty-two imaginative slogans printed on his one a day ‘God United Tee Shirts’. His mates, who he had met at Christian Summer camps and at college pointed out the acronym and said that he would indeed need GUTS , that’s for sure. Andy’s response was ‘Who needs guts when you have the Lord Jesus by your side’.
He left the name of Jesus off the tee shirts so as not to offend other Faiths but he would carry HIM in his heart, knowing he was walking in His footsteps. What surprised him was the reaction of his mates who were really against it. Their negative response really shocked him. He knew they were just trying to protect him but it didn’t dampen his ardour and he went ahead without a moment’s hesitation. He knew the producers had chosen him because he would be the butt of the cynic’s jibes in the house and that they would be happy to sacrifice him when the first vote came in but he knew he could prove them wrong.
He’d had a great send off by his family and friends at the church and another at his local which took two days to recover from, after too many pints of real ale, and now he was here, ready and willing.
Andy shook hands with Lydia and they both laughed at the groans of the crowd on seeing the slogan ‘BIG BROTHER HOOD’ on his hoody. He wanted to show that he was cool and to remove preconceived ideas. A vicar in a hoody, jeans and trainers was the perfect look.
Andy, a nice bloke with a wide smile, an open face, and always wanting to help, had successfully completed five years at Theology College. Taking a year out to do some missionary work in Ecuador where he helped in community service; building homes, providing health advice for children with aids and training local people to become leaders in spreading the good news, Andy based all his ministry on becoming the Love Jesus spoke of in The Sermon on the Mount. He had returned with an increased zeal to offer his life in service to those less fortunate than himself. In fact within a day of touch down from Peru he heard about the auditions and the ideas formed for his media missionary.
At twenty-five he thought he knew exactly what young people wanted and with his puppy dog enthusiasm had persuaded his Bishop to permit him onto the show before taking up his post in the Parish of Saint Martin’s, Canterbury; a great church that had moved with the times and understood the difficulties facing families, whilst offering a place for shared worship and friendship. The oldest Parish church in England, attended by St. Augustine in the 6th century, the church retained its love of music and Andy loved the choral masses.
As Andy waved and entered the house to the cheers of the crowd, many of the fans turned to each other and could be heard saying, ‘What a wanker!’
Goz, in her grunge denim, and looking as a butch as she could, walked on the set with a confident sway and a ‘don’t mess with me’ look. Overweight with cropped hair and studs in her nose, eyebrows and lips, she wasn’t used to being readily accepted and was soon disarmed when Lydia welcomed her in a genuine and respectful way. Lydia had read all the profiles and knew the harsh journeys most of these people had had. Not only that, but Lydia also knew what they had all come to do, even though they were unaware right now.
In your face and as hard as nails, Goz’s anger covered up a soft, humorous centre that she did not like to reveal. In spite of herself, however, it bubbled up occasionally into a sunny and very funny personality and Lydia skilfully brought this attractive side out. The interview over, Goz had a lot more fans than five minutes before she entered the house. Although feeling elated, she knew that wouldn’t last, it never did!
Pregnant and married at sixteen, she soon realised her mistake but it took her five years to leave him for an older woman who she really loved and who she had been seeing for two years. Unfortunately, Sonia was horrified when Gloria (Goz) turned up on her doorstep with her kid. It wasn’t long before she was dumped for a younger married woman. Homeless and ostracised by her Dad and no one to turn to, her mum had committed suicide when she was 13 and her Gran died when she was 15, Gloria and her child found themselves in homeless accommodation before being re-housed in a grubby council flat, living on benefits. Bereft and alone, she vowed never to be hurt again. Since then there had been numerous affairs and she had lost many a day in a drunken haze when her young daughter would get herself off to school and return to get her up and cook for them.
Now thirty- three and looking ten years older she hadn’t touched a drop for three years. After they took her Stacey into care she was out of it for two years and God knows how many men and women she had slept with in that time. Now she was sober thanks to the intervention of her daughter’s foster mum. She still went to the AA and had contact with Stacey, but Stacey didn’t want to live with her anymore.
Goz was angry, lonely and cynical and these things would repel as powerfully as her occasional humour would invite you in.
Ishmael walked self-consciously up the steps to Lydia, unsmiling and not waving or connecting to the audience in any way. He received an obligatory, but mild clap. Although Lydia did her best, he wasn’t willing to give anything of himself, apart from tell her he was here to flag up gay rights. The interview was brief and did nothing to encourage a rapport with the audience, but that was the least of his worries.
Ishmael was a thirty something Muslim whose grandparents came from Bangladesh and had settled in London in the 50’s. Ishmael really missed his family and more recently his religious life. He kept in touch with his sister and she kept him informed of the family news.
A big noise in the organisation, he fought tirelessly to achieve equality and freedom from oppression for gay men. This was at a cost, however, and Ishmael was overflowing with conflict, hurt, rejection and loss.
A sensitive and compliant child he had loved going to the Mosque with his Father and Brothers. Still faithful to Allah, he prayed and read the Koran every day. Now denied to him, because of the choices he had made eleven years ago, he missed communal worship, and instead put all his energies into the Gay cause. He was totally committed and serious. No one in the office had seen him laugh, ever.
He had lived with Jad for eight years now but after the honeymoon period their love for each other had deteriorated into a joyless, celibate relationship of financial convenience, which neither of them could end.
When the producers contacted the organisation, his colleagues were stunned when Ishmael put himself forward.
Jock followed next and though not known for his sunny personality, his sarcastic nature made him appear joyful compared to the previous contestant and the fans were receptive and ready to have a good laugh.
He gave a grim account of Glasgow in the eighties and the tenement flat he was born in to. Though not meaning to be funny his cynicism made it so, and it helped that he looked and sounded like Billy Connolly.
Strangely, he also had a similar background of abuse but with him it was his Granddad. His early life lacked any nurturing and the only glimmer of love was his early bonds with his little brothers, which he couldn’t sustain.
His ma and dad were either at the pub, in bed or fighting and he saw things that no child should see. Being the eldest, he was left to look after his two younger brothers. He hadn’t seen any of them for forty years and never thought about them. Now in his fifties but looking gaunt and worn out, he believed in no one and nothing.
He ran away when he was fourteen, funded by his granddad’s winnings he had been sent to collect at the bookies. A drifter for most of his life, he had spent five years in a squat in London. Thrown out on the streets and almost frozen he was rescued by the Salvation Army. Eventually with their help, he moved to a bed sit, took an Open University Foundation course and had been lucky enough in his mid-twenties to qualify for a University place for mature students at Leeds, in the good old days of government grants and learning for learning’s sake. He’d even lost faith in the Labour government when Blair took the country to war.
He had obtained a first-class Honours in Philosophy, which wasn’t bad for a kid who was rarely in school from seven. He had short term jobs at The Job Centre before they closed down and at the CAB but for the past five years, he had been unemployed. His days were habitual; walking into town after a lie in till eleven, a strip wash, and a breakfast of coffee and fags. He always bought his daily food and fags from the same corner shop followed by the visit to the library to read the papers and exchange books.
He was an avid reader and could finish a book in a day, reading well into the early hours. He mainly read European and American history and travel books, although his only personal travelling was limited to London and Leeds, where he now lived. He liked to walk on the moors and most weeks he would scour the charity shops in search of waterproofs, boots and to cruise the book section.
He’d had women but nothing lasted. He never seemed to be able to please; always being accused of lack of feelings, moodiness, going into himself, and not communicating or making a commitment. He didn’t ‘get’ women, he could never do right for doing wrong and his friendships with blokes didn’t last either.
He had always lived alone and God knows why he was here but he had seen an advert for the show and feeling bored thought, ‘f..k it- I’m going for it’
When everyone was ensconced in the house, Lydia chatted amicably with Paige who said it was ‘like being back at home’ and that she was really happy and excited. Lydia sensed that Paige was going to start talking about her last few days in the house with Serena and John so she ended the conversation quickly and bid everyone a good night’s sleep. The baying crowd was even more ecstatic to see Paige talking on the screen again, letting loose their fickle emotions, booing one minute, whistling and clapping hysterically the next, they could have been in the Roman Coliseum. Feeling humiliated, Paige looked at Serena and the hurt just dissolved. They stood and warmly linking arms, walked to the bedroom together.
Being the first into bed Paige picked up the Blue Book closed her eyes to connect with the book and opened it at random. Serena had advised her to divine in this way so that synchronicity could operate. It was always a surprise and a delight to do it this way and snuggling into bed, Paige opened the book at random to receive a message.
HEAL YOUR SELF AND YOU HEAL THE WORLD
You are the Science of Light. Your DNA is Light.
You are Light! You are Love!
You cannot fail to awaken.
All you have to do is Emerge by stilling the Material Mind
and enter the profound and resounding silence
where the waiting soul resides.
Be still and know YOU ARE THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD.
HEALING WITH INTEGRITY IS SIMPLY THE REVELATION
OF YOUR TRUE IDENTITY
Integrated and healed, you become a Beacon,
Radiating the World.
Surrendering the ‘me’ identity releases the Soul and light
floods the brain and changes occur to the eyes.
Thus, when you connect to your True Identity,
Healing is instantaneous and;
YOU CHANGE THE WORLD IN THE TWINKLING OF AN EYE
But remember your ego, the ‘me’ identity which allows you to
experience life as alone and separate, in divine duality
(individual) is also a divine vehicle which will lead you to
choose Love over fear, Peace over war and
Wellbeing over suffering.
Thus you Let Light
Paige loved to think of herself as the light of the world. Feeling the complete opposite of what she felt minutes ago when the crowd had booed her, she said a little prayer of thanks and fell into, a lovely deep sleep.
The cameras rolled on for another 30 minutes. The closing shot was from outside the house where Lydia announced she was delighted to be back and informed the audience that there would be a special transmission at 11 am the next morning, when the reason for the mystery couple would be revealed.
Richard couldn’t believe it when the only stipulation Serena had made regarding the selection of housemates was that Paige should go in. The last thing he needed was that bloody Paige messing things up for him again. But as usual Lydia had insisted on backing Serena. Not only that but he had been forced to let Serena bring all kinds of things into the house that had previously been denied.
Of course the concessions were worth it in order to placate Lydia and get her on board again, but he resented having the law laid down to him by Serena who had insisted that she and Paige be installed in the house three days before the others arrived. And unbelievably, to add injury to insult, Serena told him there would be a man joining them in the house but that she couldn’t tell him anymore than that until she was informed by her Light beings who the man was! Richard left the studio in a foul mood, determined to take back control.
When everyone was settled in bed Serena looked around the bedroom and sent her love and gratitude to all these misfits and so-called odd balls of society, of whom she considered herself one. Everyone in their own way had been pushed or chosen to go beyond consensus reality, to explore the lonely path that exists outside the boundaries of what was the norm of their society and culture. Although they had not yet remembered, their inner spirits knew exactly why they were here in this house, a domain they had been compelled to enter, in spite of themselves.
Serena connected with each one and saw the troubled auras of two thirds of them; some of the aura’s had jagged points of red coming and going from them, swirling around energetically, impinging one to another violently. These were the ones who filled their mind with deeply ingrained thought patterns of worry, anxiety and blame. Some others had become so suppressed that they had gone beyond the dis-ease of energetic stress and their auras were very dull, almost grey and colourless.
On the verge of deep depression, these people had no vitality and were almost non-living, just going through the motions. Another one was deep in the realm of imaginary sexual conquest and these heightened thoughts, also red, were making their way across the room to the recipient of the fantasy, who was quite unaware of their content, but which affected her nevertheless. If only people realised how powerful their thoughts were, Serena lamented to herself. But then Serena herself had taken nearly a lifetime to go beyond her chattering delusional mind to find a place of love and peace.
Beside her own, there were three auras that were at peace in the bedroom tonight, but one of them could just as easily slip back any moment into disturbance and turmoil, re-playing the negative patterns she had built up with magnetic steel, over her lifetime. At the present time though she was in delight as she re-played the earlier welcome she had received from Lydia and the crowd, an unusual experience for Goz.
The two other auras were alive and gently swirling clear and iridescent hues of beautiful pinks, blues and pale greens, revealing the new and vital thoughts that enchanted them; one was lost in her fairy tale of romantic love, starring Dex, and the other was thinking about the amazing feelings she experienced in the house over the past two days. Paige felt truly loved for the first time.
What delighted Serena was that although none of them were yet awake to who and what they were beneath their total identification with their personalities, their depression, anxiety and addictions, they each had the glowing orb of light, tinged with lavender, moving closer to their field of consciousness. It wouldn’t be long before it seeped into their very being and swiftly brought about the changes in their aura Serena was seeing more and more in the last few decades, around awakening people.
The Orb was having its effect already upon Paige, who had been chosen by John to enter the house with Serena three days before the opening night and it was remarkable how quickly she had relinquished her hurts, humiliation and fears. Paige had opened up like a beautiful desert flower as soon as the drought was over; such was the love and healing presence that exuded from John.
When Serena first met John she was blinded by his white/violet radiant aura which extended way beyond anything she had seen, although she knew intuitively that he had diminished it hugely to be here in this material world. He radiated light and unconditional love without saying a word. Serena and Paige had been in his silent presence for hours when time stood still. They had never experienced bliss like it. They were overflowing with joy and compassion and couldn’t wait for the other housemates and the watchers to be touched by it.
During the opening night’s show, however, it was as if John wasn’t really there, as though he had sent a hologram in his place. He was hardly noticed by the housemates who took no interest in this strange old guy anyway, apart from Damian, who, knowing a little about the power of charisma, was fascinated with him.
John disappeared altogether as soon as everyone was installed in the house. Over the three days Serena and Paige had grown used to him being there, and then not! As Serena settled down for her thankful meditation before sleep she knew there would be many more miraculous events to follow in the coming three weeks.
Arriving home at their small London flat, Richard poured himself a whiskey as he rang Sally, at home in the Home Counties. He was really pissed off and the moment she answered he let rip.
‘Did you see all that? I’ll get that bloody stupid psychic, her mystery man, and toxic Paige voted out the house as soon as I can. Once the show starts there is no way Lydia will walk, she’s too much of a pro for that’ Richard told his wife.
Sally just smiled at her irate husband. She knew for sure that he was wrong.
To be continued …