INTRODUCTION to 'Fly High, Little Bird' --- An Excerpt from the Book.
If, by chance, you do not believe in other dimensions and civilizations beyond Planet Earth, nor in our ability to interact with them, then this book is not for you. Unless it is. I would hate to see wisdom lost just because of a little snag like that. So, if it works better for you to look upon this as a figment of my imagination—a series of conversations between me, and me, during some of my wilder moments…well…I’m good with that. I am more than delighted to take credit for all of it, despite being oddly confident that the deeper messages could only have come from someone far wiser than I am at present. I am smart, but I’m not that smart!
I have total sympathy with whatever doubt and fear some of you may feel at the idea that any of this is possible. I felt the same. This book in its essence is a bare-naked account of my struggle to accept that Light Beings such as these look upon me as worthy of their love and attention (as are you), and that I am up to the task of interdimensional communication and co-authorship. More than once they had to talk me down from the ledge. Not an actual ledge. More like a persistent urge to dive under the bed, never to be seen again. The irony does not escape me that in the past I have often said, ‘You don’t have to hit me over the head!’ Because, apparently, you do.
Aliens do not frighten me, nor have I ever doubted their existence, but if I saw one sitting in my living room, I daresay my first reaction would be AAGGHHH! The denial/fear hype that most governments churn out on the subject is, to my way of thinking, a deliberate attempt to further bureaucratic agendas. Hollywood movies portraying alien invasions in gruesome, heart-stopping detail are more valuable to bureaucratic puppet masters than box office gold. I have not been unaffected by such hype. Yet to my knowledge our most spiritual, most technologically advanced space communities desire only to awaken us to our Divine identity and purpose. Why do they care? Because we are their beloved children. They seeded us here. Humans did not spring from the ground like broccoli. My belief in God as Prime Creator of all life does not in my opinion negate our alien origins.
Someone recently asked me, ‘Why were you chosen?’ It’s a fair question. Most channeled books are produced by people with an impressive list of credentials and/or experience at this sort of thing. I have a Grade 12 education, no formal training as a writer, and my psychic abilities are erratic and barely formed. Why would these Beings talk to an ordinary person like me?
At first, I thought maybe it was a reward for surviving a life that lays out badly if I forget to look past the tears in my throat --- an emotionally isolated childhood, three abusive marriages, both my children drug addicts, and some other hits to the heart that knocked my kids and me sideways so that it seemed I was forever hauling myself out of pits of despair. With my Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) misdiagnosed and incorrectly treated as Bipolar II Disorder until 2017, it was like juggling a hundred crazy-balls in the air without knowing how they got there or how to get them down. Surely to emerge from all of that with my humor intact, and wiser than I was going in, deserves a bigger reward than a bucket of Rocky Road ice cream! Why not?
[Please see Book for complete Introduction]
