
The first time I met Cynthia,
she told me about her past. When she was sixteen she almost killed
her father. The abuse had started when she was little, when she
used to sit on his knee while he combed her curly hair into ringlets.
But then he wanted to do more than play. And he said he would
kill her and her mother if she ever told anyone. So she never
did.
But she used to
wake up screaming, "No, Daddy!" Her mother never did
anything about it. And Cynthia grew up playing strange games
by herself out under the oak tree by their white frame home in
suburban Illinois. She buried her Barbie dolls in carefully lined
shoe boxes, marking their graves with pebble outlines. She would
dig them up the next day and repeat the ritual.
One summer evening
Cynthia stayed out late, walking and holding hands with Rick
from geometry class. When she got home and opened the screen
door, a painted china dog flew past her and crashed on the faded
wood porch. "Where've you been?" Daddy shouted. Before
she could make it up the stairs to her room, Daddy slapped her
face hard, tore her white blouse and sent a praying-hands bookend
sailing past her ear. "Don't ever let me catch you with
a boy again! I'll kill him, and I'll kill you too!"
When Cynthia tiptoed down the steps
later that night, powder blue suitcase in hand, she could hear
Daddy snoring in the living room. She went into the kitchen and
slowly opened the glass-knobbed drawer. Daddy always kept the
carving knives sharp. She stared at the knives and then at her
shadow, the moonlight throwing the image of her bobbed hair large
against the wall in front of her. She sighed, quietly closed
the drawer, picked up her suitcase and eased herself out the
back door.
Cynthia never saw
her father again. She went to Chicago, took her GED, waitressed
her way through college and was hired at an investment firm.
Although she advanced quickly in her career, she knew she hadn't
gotten beyond her past.
Cynthia spent one
day a month "sick," crying in the closet and thinking
about her childhood. A string of relationships ended in failure,
and at thirty-five she found herself alone. She was first able
to talk about her past to a therapist, looking out of his Wacker
Drive office onto Lake Michigan. After a year of therapy in which
she told every detail of her past, looking for keys that would
help her get beyond the memories, she felt stuck.
Why had all this
happened to her? Why did she have an abusive father and a mother
who let him abuse her? What did she do to deserve it? Deep down
inside, she felt it must be something terrible.
One day as she
drifted along the sidewalk lost in thought, someone handed her
a violet handbill. "Learn to use the violet flame to transmute
painful memories," it said. It was an advertisement for
one of my lectures. Cynthia attended and listened to me explain
the violet flame and "decrees."
Decrees are rhythmic
prayers that call forth a powerful spiritual energy. This light-energy,
combined with visualization, has the special quality of erasing
and transmuting negative aspects of ourselves.
To transmute
is to alter in form, appearance or nature, especially to change
something into a higher form. The term was used by ancient alchemists
who sought to change base metals into gold, separating the "gross"
from the "subtle" by means of heat. The most spiritual
of the alchemists were in search of a way to change the lead
of negative human energy into the gold of divine energy. Some
of them accomplished this goal by using the secrets of the violet
transmuting flame.
Mystics throughout
the ages have known how to use this energy. But it wasn't taught
publicly until the 1930s, when Guy and Edna Ballard founded the
"I AM" Religious Activity. The Ballards wrote of the
violet flame as the "means by which any human being can
free himself from his own human discord and imperfection."
(1) Mark Prophet, who later founded
The Summit Lighthouse, received further revelations on the violet
flame that he shared with me when I began working with him in
1961.
During the lecture
Cynthia sat toward the back listening to my explanations and
reading the decrees carefully. She kept silent as the group repeated
them, not sure she wanted to join in.
When Cynthia later
decided to use the violet flame for the first time, she was sitting
in an olive green armchair in the living room of her Lincoln
Park apartment, feet on a stack of Vogues, looking at
a framed Georgia O'Keeffe lithograph. She held the booklet in
front of her and began to repeat:
I AM the violet flame
In action in me
now
I AM the violet
flame
To Light alone
I bow
I AM the violet
flame
In mighty cosmic
power
I AM the light
of God
Shining every hour
I AM the violet
flame
Blazing like a
sun
I AM God's sacred
power
Freeing every one
"Such a simple
rhyme," she thought, "like a nursery rhyme." Cynthia
remembered that each time we repeat "I AM the violet flame"
(which means "God in me is the violet flame"), we are
transforming ourselves so that we can become more closely united
with God.
She repeated the decree
nine times and then went to bed. The next night at the same time,
she tried it again. After a few repetitions she was able to remember
the verse without reading it, so she closed her eyes. She sensed
a shower of light falling around her. When she finished the decree,
she felt tingly all over. After two weeks of giving violet-flame
decrees, she felt more at peace with herself. But she was still
troubled by flashbacks from her childhood.
Then one night Cynthia
had a vivid dream. She saw an image of a black, high-laced boot
planting itself in a mud puddle. She felt raindrops pelting her
back and watched them make the puddles dance. She walked slowly
toward a two-story, Tudor-style house up the road. As the rain
soaked through her clothes and trickled down her back, she simply
pulled forward her black poke bonnet and walked even more slowly.
As she lifted the wooden beam of the gate and went in the back
door, Mr. Farnsworth was waiting.
Then she flashed on
another scene: Her sobbing and him laughing. Her threatening
never to come back. Him threatening to turn her family out of
their cottage. Her stabbing him with a kitchen knife as he slept.
Her running away to London, later dying in a cold garret.
When she woke up, she
could remember the dream, smell the lilacs near the gate and
hear the rain splashing in the puddles as she walked toward the
house. But she felt lighter and freer, almost as if the rain
had washed away the feelings of the past. "Why should I
feel so good after such an awful dream?" she asked herself.
It was several months
later that Cynthia told me about her childhood and her dream.
I explained to her that she had remembered a past life and that
it contained karmic seeds of her current life challenges. Mr.
Farns-worth had reincarnated as her father. In being born as
his daughter, she had balanced, or made up for, the karma she
had created by killing him. When she chose not to take the opportunity
to kill him again, she had broken the karmic cycle that had tied
them together for many lifetimes.
But recalling the karmic
record was just the first step in getting beyond her past. She
still had spiritual work to do. The memory of the violence, the
pain, the grief and the guilt were keeping her from moving on
with her life plan. On a spiritual level, the energy that had
gone into those emotions had solidified around her soul like
black tar.
"Why was I shown
this past life now?" asked Cynthia.
"Your soul is
ready to deal with the record," I answered. "That's
why I recommend using the violet flame rather than hypnotherapy
to look into past lives. When you enter a state of hypnotic regression,
you may come upon all kinds of memories and thoughts, some not
even your own. These could confuse you and lead you off on tangents.
When you use the violet flame, you know that God will reveal
to you only as much of your past as you are ready to deal with."
"What am I supposed
to do with this dream?"
"The dream was
shown to you so that you could dissolve the karmic records with
the violet flame."
"How do I do that?"
"As
you give the violet flame, the scenes from the dream will come
up on the screen of your mind. Every time you see those scenes,
visualize a giant eraser, like a chalkboard eraser, only violet,
rubbing away the picture. After you do this enough times, the
memory will stop being painful and grad-ually fade from the forefront
of your mind."
"I'll try it.
I'll try anything at this point."
A few weeks later Cynthia
called me. She sounded excited. "I had the most amazing
experience! It was just after I finished giving my violet-flame
decrees. All of these pictures flooded my mind. I could see what
happened to me after I died in that London garret. My body felt
light, and it floated up into a beam of light. I heard a sound
like wind and then I was in a beautiful place with gardens and
flowers. I just stayed there for a while and played with some
children."
"Good! You're
starting to get beyond the record. Now you need to ask God to
reveal to you the next record you should work on so you can get
on with your life plan."
"What is my life
plan?"
"Your life plan
is something that is prepared between one life and the next.
Have you heard about the life review that people often go through
during near-death experiences?"
"Yes."
"The beings of
light who conduct the review are Ascended Masters. These are
saints and sages of East and West who once lived on earth, fulfilled
their reason for being and ascended, or reunited with God. There
are usually eight at the review but the numbers vary, depending
on the needs of the soul.
"After the review,
they prepare a plan for your next life based on God's original
plan for you and what you did (positive or negative) in your
preceding lives. They tell you that you will be put into a situation
where you will have to meet karmic challenges. If you overcome
them, you will go on to the next level of challenges in your
spiritual evolution. If you stumble--for instance, if you had
killed your father or even killed yourself out of guilt feelings--you
will have to come back to face the same obstacle again."
Cynthia and I had several
more conversations. She began to feel better about her past.
She was able to visit her mother, talk to her about the abuse
and forgive her for not intervening. She no longer gets debilitated
by flashbacks, and she is more positive about the future. Although
her story isn't neatly wrapped up in a wedding dress, she has
developed a relationship with a strong and caring man.
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Violet Flame to Heal Body,
Mind and Soul by Elizabeth Clare Prophet
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