Drugs and Spirituality
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DRUGS and SPIRITUALITY

Many people find their way to our classes as a direct result of experiencing drug abuse within their family unit. Either they have lost a child to drugs, or the whole family has been split apart by the actions of a sibling affected by drugs. It is a frightening situation, and one that seems to be completely beyond their control – and it IS – until dealt with in a Spiritual way. And that’s where we come in.

Our family has not had this experience, but a very close friend has, and she gave me permission to use her story to help these people. That is how our ‘drug file’ came into being – which grows larger all the time. Many people have contributed, giving valuable input so that these parents can look at every aspect of the situation, which helps them to accept, and then work on it.

It has also helped the addicts, and when they learn about BOTH sides of the affects of drugs on their physical AND Spiritual selves, it sometimes prompts them to DO something towards helping themselves. The first move must always come from them. With that desire the energies shift.

We begin the file with an excerpt from ‘The Damage Done’ by Warren Fellows:

 ‘For anyone that has never ever experienced heroin, I’ll do my best to describe what it feels like, not for any other reason but to explain why I became addicted to the drug in a place like Maha Chai.

There is a moment when you realise you’re falling in love with someone who you know feels the same way. It has nothing to do with excitement, but more a sublime feeling of relief and deep satisfaction. Heroin is like that, only to a far greater, more noticeable physical degree. Everything seems, at worst, tolerable and fine. At best, the world is wonderful. Generally speaking, the more wretched you are feeling in a sober state, the more dazzling you’ll feel when the torment is washed away by heroin. There is no feeling that your mind has been altered, as with marijuana, or acid. The alteration is purely emotional – a certain feeling of synthetic happiness, combined with a sense that your load has been miraculously lifted. And the heavier the load, the greater the feeling of elevation. In a place like Maha Chai – or any prison, for that matter – heroin is undeniably the perfect solution.

Naturally, coming down from this feeling is an uncomfortable realisation and you find yourself doing anything to get back to the emotional state you feel you should be in all the time. And that’s the catch with this drug. While you still have the memory of the joy you have experienced your restive state of mind will be plunged even further into the pit.

I think the authorities who try to teach children why they should avoid drugs take the wrong route by neglecting to mention that heroin itself does have a pleasant effect. All they ever tell kids is that if you use this drug you will wind up in a pool of vomit in the gutter, covered in sores and feeling like wreckage. So, when teenagers try the drug for the first time – an occurrence which is not inevitable, but more than possible these days – and they find themselves feeling indescribably terrific, with no pile of vomit or sores or feelings of hopelessness to be found they make the obvious assumption that the authorities who warned them of such things, and neglected to mention the very real euphoria, were lying or just plain ignorant. I believe that if this surprise element was taken out of the equation there would be fewer accidental addicts.’

That feeling of ‘everything seems, at worst, tolerable and fine. At best, the world is wonderful’ – is exactly what spiritual development does for you. WITHOUT SYNTHETIC AIDS it will not be ‘a certain feeling of synthetic happiness’ – and your load WILL be lifted. That feeling of joy that heroin takes you to is our NATURAL state when we seek it in a balanced state of mind. We are ALL seeking happiness - spiritual happiness, but we can get distracted on the way.

  *** *

  This chilling piece was handed in, dated 15.01.96 under the name TRUTHDOC, and I guess it is based on experience. It certainly makes you THINK:

   
MADAM HEROIN  

So little man you’ve grown tired of the smoke,  
All that damn acid, hash, speed and the odd snort of coke.
Then someone, pretending he is your friend,
Says he will introduce you to Madam Heroin.

Well Honey, before you start fooling with me
Just let me tell you how it really will be.
For I will seduce you and make you my slave,
Believe me, I’ve sent stronger men to their grave.

  And you think you can never become a disgrace
And end up addicted to poppy seed waste.
You’ll start by experimenting, one afternoon,
And fall asleep in my arms, oh so soon.

  For once I’ve entered deep into your vein
The craving for me will drive you insane.
You’ll need lots of money; no doubt you’ve been told,
For Darling, I’m more expensive than gold.

You’ll swindle your mother, just for a buck,
And turn into someone vile and without luck.
You’ll lie and you’ll steal, for the narcotic charm,
And you’ll feel oh so content when I’m in your arm.

Then you’ll suddenly realise, that monster inside you has grown,
And solemnly swear to leave me alone.
But baby if you think that it’s easy and you’ve got the knack,
Try getting me off your f…g back.

  The vomit, the cramps, your guts in a knot,
Your jangling nerves scream for the next shot.
The cold chills, the hot sweats and all the withdrawal pains,
Can only be saved by little white grains.

  So now you return, just as I foretold.
You’ll give me your morals, your conscience and heart,
For now you are mine – until death us do part.
RIP. my adoring fool

  Madam Heroin.

*****

  So now I give you Julie’s story. The verses were all channelled, and they were what kept her on track through this whole thing. All channelled material will be in italics.

  The Prayer of a Mother

I ask, Oh Lord, you take my children by the hand  
And lead them gently through their life’s plan  
You gave me each child to love and trust  
But I fear when into the turmoil of life they are thrust.

  When they were born, I knew I had been blessed  
I taught them all I could, and did my best  
But I cannot now take them by their hand  
And steer them around the pitfalls of man.

I pray I taught them wisdom in their growing years  
And now they know of a mother’s fears
They have their faults; I am not blind  
But I dearly love each child of mine.

  I’m always here with open arms  
And hope they find solace away from harm  
So each day I ask You Lord above,  
Please, Oh Lord, protect these children I love

Today I start to write a story. This story is not a fairy-tale; it is truth. It is not set in an idyllic world where dreams come true, but I hope – with all my heart – this story has a happy ending.

This story is about the predator man and the devastation he causes. This predator traps and snarls the unsuspecting, not for food to satisfy his hunger, but to snare the young and innocent people around him to feed his greed for money. He is a drug dealer. Because of them I have a story to tell, but I do not thank them.

 My son is a drug addict and I am not ashamed to admit it, for I know many of you who read this story will be able to relate to it, and if you can’t, then you should thank God, for there is a saying, ‘There, but for the grace of God, go I.’

 I love my son just as much as I love my other three children. I do not condemn him for his addiction in fact; the pain he suffers serves to bring us closer together. If a war is to be won, there must be people by your side.

Drug addiction touches all people, not just the person using the drug. It divides families; it puts people on the street, so to survive they rob people’s homes and steal their cars. Often innocent people are killed in car chases and yet another family suffers because of one person’s addiction.

This story begins long before I found my spiritual path. My son was still attending school and was petrol sniffing, and once tried to commit suicide. He ran away from home but returned after a week. Life at home became unbearable not only for him, but for all the family. I was then, and still am, ‘the meat in the sandwich’. I would not allow my son to disrupt the family, nor would I forsake my son for the family. In those days I stood alone.

 Now I take up the story from the time I discovered another source of help - Spiritual Help. I joined a group for meditation and personal development. Later I started to do automatic writing. The writings I receive are truly beautiful, so I know they are not my work as I’m quite a larrikin, my family and friends will vouch for this.

 In all this learning, I discovered protection and guidance for my son and me. He needed it; he suffered an accident whilst riding his Moped and came close to losing his leg. All is well now, not even a limp. At the time of the accident, he was found to be in possession of an instrument used for smoking marijuana. The policeman attending the accident took it, saying he would talk to my son about it when he recovered. In due course, he came, spoke to him, and let him off with a warning. I thanked God it all worked out so well!

I spoke to my son often about my beliefs, and he listened. He even attended a table group just to see who moved the table, and received the surprise of his life when the table fell into his lap. A friend who was killed in a car accident had come to ‘speak’ with him!

 As in every case, when something goes wrong in our lives, we tend to take it out on the people closest to us. In my son’s case, it was my ‘voodoo mates’ and I. This I accepted and moved on, even when it was not I that lost his clothes – or whatever! A person on drugs is not at all logical, their lives and thoughts are totally without reason and hope, but THEY are not wrong – we are! This insidious drug is a demon of the worst kind. The pain suffered from it is indescribable, but they must take more to gain a couple of hours relief from the pain. What a senseless way to live, but such is the power of this drug.

 The first writing I received for my son was ‘THIS CHILD I LOVE’ it was given to me one day in October 1993 when I decided to telephone him. I was, however, angry with him as he was about to quit a job, but I knew if I rang him and spoke in anger I would accomplish nothing. I asked for help and received the writing. I felt calm and then made the call. All was well; the problem had been resolved---

  THIS CHILD I LOVE

This child I love when will he see,  
He must face up to responsibility,  
This child can hurt and bring me pain  
But I will always have him back again.
I wish him well. I wish him love  
And I give all his problems to the Lord above.  
I ask, Oh Lord, you take him by the hand,  
And steer him gently through his life’s plan.
He has a love of life, and is very giving  
But he must realise the dangers of living  
In a world of drugs and drink and speed,  
Caring not of a mother’s needs.
When he was born I knew I had been blessed.  
I taught him all I could, and did my best.  
The years have passed and now he stands alone  
To all life’s pitfalls he is very prone.
Please let him listen still to what I say  
Like he did in the yesterday.  
My love is deep I feel his pain  
And know for his actions he is not always to blame
For the years of youth are full of stress  
And did we not all make a mess.  
Did we not all let our pride and sorrow  
Stand in the way of a bright tomorrow?
I love this child with all his whims  
I will always stand by him.  
We’ll stand together, him and I  
Through all his problems I will try
To understand and tolerate all the decisions he will make.  
He has his faults, I am not blind  
But I dearly love this child of mine  
I hope with the passing of the youthful years
I will be able to forget the tears  
And as this boy turns into a man,  
Still together we will stand.
I ask God in Heaven above
Please, Oh Lord, protect this child I love .

Another problem arose, so again I asked for help. I received ‘FREE SPIRIT’, and immediately after that my son ‘answered’ with ‘MY CHILD’S MESSAGE’ in December 1993. Once again I stood back…

FREE SPIRIT

Think of your child as a free spirit  
One that must be released to fly free  
Think of their mind and body and think  
Of the butterfly, a thing of loveliness  
And gentleness.  
  But hold a butterfly too tightly in your hand  
And you will crush its delicate wings  
Its free spirit is then crippled  
And it will flounder at your feet.
  Think of a bird, if it is held in the confinement  
of a cage – if approached wrongly by you  
it will take flight in fright, and in doing  
so could well break a wing  
And it too will flounder at your feet.  
  Think of your child and its free spirit.  
Crush this spirit and he will become weak.  
Break this spirit and it might never mend.  
Enjoy and admire your child but always remember  
They are free spirits, given to you to love, nurture and to lead but never to own
The whole universe is the home of the free spirit  
And we must all learn the power, the pleasure  
And the pitfalls of this dimension.  
  Let go – Let them live.  
See all you have given returned to you with love  
Hold them gentle in your hand in times of need  
Then release them once again  
For love is caring enough not to hold on too tightly.

*

MY CHILD’S MESSAGE

Our life should be a spirit free  
Just like the waves out at sea  
A balloon let go will ride the sky  
Like the butterfly and the birds up high.

A child must be free to come and leave  
And our Mothers for us should not grieve.  
For we must learn to love not fight  
Then we will fly high like a kite.

This world of wonders we must explore  
So always leave open the family door  
I’ll return one day with God’s Grace  
And put a smile upon your face.

I’ll hold you gently in my arms with love  
But for now I need freedom like the dove  
I am your child, I am your kin  
Leave the door open, I will always walk in.

You have the wisdom of your years  
I know for me you have your fears  
But I have to walk my path come what may  
Just remember me as you pray

As I walk towards my future goals  
I have your love in my heart and soul  
My life should be a spirit free  
I will and must always be me.

My son was often living away from home but one time when he was back home he suffered a severe stomach pain. I rushed him to the hospital and he was admitted with a suspected stomach ulcer that had burst (at nineteen years of age?). Whilst he was in hospital I decided to wash his clothes for him and discovered, whilst I was emptying the pockets of his jeans, a form from the hospital, written on it were the words, ‘Used speed last night and this morning’. I was stunned. This was the first I knew that he was taking ‘heavy’ drugs. My world fell apart and I was shattered. When I asked him about it, he saw no wrong in taking it. A few days later he left to go to the city to live and work, and I was left to worry about him. The very best thing I could do for him was to put him into the hands of God. This I did and life went on.

 My son always kept in touch with me by telephone and all seemed to be going well for him – for a while. Then once again he returned home, and his being there disrupted all our lives.

 I was very worried about him one night when he did not come home for dinner. He was working in the city and travelling in his car. I had a bad feeling. Finally he walked in and said he had been involved in a car accident. His car had become airborne and landed on its roof. It skidded along the road, my son gripping the steering wheel to keep his back off the car roof. There was broken glass and sparks flying all around him. When the car finally stopped sliding, it was so mangled my son had to squeeze out the rear window. Miraculously, the only injuries he received were a small cut on his head, and a sore thumb. His clothes, gathered from the car, he left on the floor in the house, and when I went to pick them up I could have wrung the petrol out them. All I could think of was, ‘Thank You God for protecting him’. I was certain he could have been incinerated in that car. But did my son see it that way? No! My ‘voodoo mates’ were out to kill him. When I said that they had their chance that night, his reply was, “No, first they are going to take everything from me” (he was very upset because he had lost an amplifier in the accident) “and then they will kill me, and when they do they will then kill you.” He was very upset and frightened, and so was I  - for him, because he really believed this was going to happen. He pleaded with me to burn all of my writings, and to stop attending tables, and asked me never to pray for him again. I asked if I should do what he asked of me, and was told, “No.” I was willing to let him burn the writings, (but I was not being a martyr, as each person in the group had a copy, so I could easily replace them).

I was told, once again, to put him into the Hands of God. I knew this was the very best thing, but I felt that by just asking, I was not actually doing anything, so I decided to give up the tables for him.

The voices in my son’s head had him terrified, but he would never admit it was the drugs that were causing them. I also think he suffered shock from the accident. He screamed and shouted at me for two hours one night shortly after the accident. He accused me, and he asked me questions I found I could not answer. We were both frightened and in tears. Where would all this end?

 The next day, when calm was restored, I asked, and received, the writing ‘I’M NOT GOD’, and then I realised he had to find the answers for himself. My son left home once again and a few days later he rang me to say he never wanted to see me or speak to me again, and that the next time I would see him, he would be laying on a slab. Once again he asked me not to pray for him anymore. I told him I was sorry he felt that way, all I ever wanted to do was help him, as I loved him very much…

I’M NOT GOD

  I can love, I can hold  
But all your problems I cannot solve  
For I’m not God.

  You ask me and I answer you true  
And I’ll always be here for you,  
But I cannot change the powers that be  
For I’m not God.

  I can search and I can lead  
And I can see all your needs  
But our destiny is our path of life  
This I cannot change  
For I’m not God.

  I can cry and I can feel  
I can help the hurt to heal  
But I can only heal the little hurts  
Because I’m not God

  Shout at me and your anger vent  
Blame me for all that came and went  
But remember please I love you dear  
And I’m always here to hold you near  

But there’s only so much I can do  
You must look deeper inside of you  
Then, and only then, you will find that  
I’m not God.

I felt devastated, but instead of turning away from my spiritual beliefs I clung to them even more. I asked God one more time to look after him, and then I never mentioned him again in my prayers. If this was what my son wanted, so be it.

The weeks passed, and at long last I received a phone call from him. He never mentioned his last words, and neither did I - maybe he never even remembered speaking them. I was just so grateful to hear from him again. He mentioned a friend’s mother who was also on the spiritual path, and she confirmed what I had been telling him. Did he believe me now? No! But I know my son (except for this past crisis in his life) never did turn away from the spiritual. It seemed to hover around him, and I still talked to him about it and answered the odd question he would ask me.

He returned home yet again, and brought more havoc upon our lives, and although he was not yet 21 years of age, I decided this was the last time I would allow him to come back into the home to do this. I tried to reason with him and we had shouting matches, he responded to nothing, he had no consideration for anyone else but himself. I decided enough was enough. The rest of us did not deserve to have our lives thrown into chaos every time this lad decided to come home. When he left I felt calm, and felt my decision was the right one, hard as it was.

He moved to a country town, took an apprenticeship and went to night school to take a business-management course. He found a girlfriend too. He would telephone me every now and again, and when I asked if he was still using drugs, of course, he would deny it. As a mother you want to believe what your child tells you, but after being caught out time and time again, you learn – with a heavy heart – not to do this. I knew my son lied partly to protect me from hurt.

Then just before Christmas 1995 I learned my son was now on heroin as well and he was in a bad way. I accepted he might overdose, suicide, or just die. I knew whatever happened was God’s Will - he was in God’s Hands. I decided if he died I would donate all his organs to others, but thinking about this I realised his organs must surely be affected by the drugs. So maybe only his beautiful smiling eyes could be used. If they were, I would then feel his life would not have been for nothing. I felt very guilty that I was not a crying mess when I received this news. And if it was a test of my faith, I found out that it is very strong.

As parents we carry guilt when our children get involved in drugs and alcohol I have been there and done that. I’ve cried my tears and lost sleep worrying about him, but now I have come to realise:

1. I have raised four children in all, three of them have turned out to be acceptable adults. I have raised them all the same way. They are, of course, different

 individuals with different needs.

2. I am not the one popping the pills, smoking the dope and injecting these insidious drugs into his arms. I am not the one who leads him along this path.

I love him dearly and I will always be there to help him if I can. Now that I have put his life into the hands of God, I stand back. I wrote and sent him the writing ‘PLEASE MY CHILD’, and I guess I got the anger out of my body by writing ‘YOUTH’. This I also sent to him. I planned to go and see him, but my efforts were thwarted so I knew I was not to speak to him at that stage…

PLEASE – MY CHILD

  Please listen my child to what I say  
Please don’t turn your head away  
Please don’t think I don’t understand  
Please reach out and take my hand  
And let me help you right the wrong  
Together we are twice as strong

  Please don’t think I don’t feel your pain  
I feel it time and time again  
And I know your frustration too  
I feel it just as much as you  
You want all your dreams to come true  
With all my heart I wish this for you

  From you my child, I never want to part 
For you are part of my body and heart  
Please listen now to what I say  
We must face tomorrow come what may  
Find the strength to turn away from all that causes you pain  
Think about the new life you can gain

  I’m here to listen and talk things through
But in the end it’s down to you  
Accept all help that is given free  
Please realise what has to be  
Please have the strength to stand and face  
You don’t have to be trapped in this place

  Fight – and the battle you can win  
You made a mistake, that’s no sin  
Please listen my child to what I say  
Please don’t….  
throw your life away.

*

  YOUTH

  Youth can be selfish and want only gain  
And this can cause a lot of pain  
Youth can be impatient and NOW it must have  
When it doesn’t happen – youth is sad

  Youth will not listen; it turns its head away  
If only youth would listen to what wiser people have to say  
Youth is right, and knows no fear  
Youth turns its back on a mother’s tears

  Youth lives in a very dangerous time 
and it does not see the danger signs  
Youth sees no harm in drugs and speed  
No-one’s words it will heed

  Youth is frustrated in a world that seems mad  
youth is anger and hatred and this is so sad  
Youth can walk a path of self-destruction  
All those around youth know upheaval and disruption

  The years of youth a perilous gauntlet of survival  
The pressures of youth, the ruthless rivals  
Youth is a part of life for all  
And for some, yes, youth can be so very cruel

  So let us think before a youth we judge  
And let us think this once was us  
I’m not sure we’re ALL sorry for things we have done  
After the years of youth begun

  Never throw a youth away  
Listen very carefully to what they say  
And when youth inflicts upon themselves harm  
Reach out and take them into your arms.

I learnt the night school had stopped and he had lost his apprenticeship. He was also supporting a girlfriend with the same habit. My eldest son, who lives in the same town, kept me informed of my son’s condition - which became terrible, but he was not yet ready to admit he needed help. I knew he would have to reach rock bottom before this would happen.

Finally my son rang me and I asked, yet again, about the drugs. He said he was not on them. I asked if he had received my writing and he said he had. He also told me this story:

A friend of his, an addict, was too sick to go and get himself a ‘fix’, so he asked my son to go for him. He gave my son some money stating it was enough to also buy some drugs for himself. My son told me that because he had received my writings, he had second thoughts and decided to throw the drugs away. For a moment my heart skipped a beat with joy, but I soon came back to earth with a thud when he said next, that he had found someone to give the drug to who had never used it before. I let fly telling him what a terrible thing to do, and how he could be responsible for that person becoming hooked on it. He stopped me by saying, “It’s alright Mum, he’s an eighty-year-old man”!! This makes it right?? I could see an eighty-year-old man feeling like an eighteen-year-old and wanting more!

Life went on, my son seemed to settle and he rang me occasionally. I knew life could be better for him, but until he asked for help there was little that could be done for him. I would not lend him any more money, as I knew this would be spent on drugs.

Finally he came crashing down. His girlfriend overdosed and nearly died, and my son knew he was dying a little more with every needle he stuck in his arm. He knew that one more, and he would be dead. Thank God. In desperation he rang me in tears – for help. He was in agonising pain, and he had booked himself into a hospital but was unable to get there because the pain was so great, and he had no money for a taxi. I am hundreds of kilometres away from him so I rang my other son. And once again, he went to his brother’s aid. I travelled to be by his side. Before I left I wrote ‘PRAY FOR ME’ (in September 1996) and I also contacted the drug rehabilitation centre in the city to try to obtain a residential place for my son, as his lifestyle had taken its toll on all of us at home. Besides, ‘Out Patients’ was not the answer because we live in the country and the public transport service leaves a lot to be desired. Imagine the hopelessness I felt when they told me there is a waiting list of three to nine months to get into these places. When a child is asking for help now, where will they be in three to nine months? Many would go back to the streets and the drugs, and many could well die…

PRAY FOR ME

  As I lay in a bed of white
Let me know I will be all right  
My body ravaged by pain and fear  
My face is wet with sweat and tears

  It matters that for me somebody does care  
Although it’s me that must be there  
I toss and turn in the waves of pain  
Let me think now of all that I can gain

  Life on earth can be heaven or hell  
It is the latter in which I dwell  
But if this battle I can win  
Then the lights of heaven will shine in

  In me this insidious drug does live  
And no rest to me it does give  
It rules my life day and night  
Alone I cannot win this fight

  Now I must be honest to myself and to others tell no more lies
For without this truth, I will surely die  
Admission, the first step of the healing path  
To put myself in the hands of caring staff  

I stumbled and fell as I walked through the door  
But I leave in the hope I’ll come back no more  
And if the urge to take this drug comes back again  
I hope I will remember these days of anguish and pain

  I know the days of healing will be hard and long  
And it will take all my strength to not go wrong  
I need to know I’m not the only one  
Who wants to see this battle won

  I need to know someone loves and cares  
One with whom I can my troubles share  
I need to know that I am loved  
There’s someone who sees the real me with all my mistakes - above

  I need to know someone kneels for me and prays  
And that there’s a God that hears what they say  
As I lay in a bed of white  
And with my agony I do fight

  I live in the hope of a brighter tomorrow  
Free of pain and free of sorrow  
Of this insidious drug let my body be free  
Please, Oh please, pray for me.

When I finally reached my son he was in a terrible state. He is a tall lad, but weighed only 49 kgs. His speech was slurred and he swore often. He could only speak to me about bashing, death, rape, drugs and violence. This was his life, no happy times he could talk about.

At the hospital, with the help of a very understanding doctor (who was once an addict himself), together with a very caring nurse who would often sit and talk to my son, we managed to get him into a rehabilitation unit in the city. Before admission I spoke to him endlessly about thinking positive, the child within, and of course, the Higher Power. I found all the rehabilitation places work on the twelve steps method and I feel my son has enough prior knowledge to help him. They also do meditation and yoga there and work with a councillor.

While I would like to think this is the start of the way back for him, I am not setting myself up for more heartbreak. Call this negative thinking if you will, but I saw and learnt a lot about life and drugs during my stay in that country town, and I knew I only really know very little. We know this problem exists but we live in our homes, we have clothes to warm us, warm beds, food to fill us, and we have healthy lives. We never really think of these poor lost souls fighting to live just one more day. They have absolutely nothing. They must lie and cheat. No hope of things improving for them. They live no better than animals; in fact, my animals have a far better life. We could say they put THEMSELVES in this position, but who are we to judge. They are not the scum of the earth. A lot of them are our children and I ask the question from one of my writings – ‘with birth, did we not give children the right to live? What went so wrong that our love to them we can no longer give?’ Addiction is a sickness, just like any other. We do not leave people who are sick to die.

Whilst in that country town I wrote ‘A CHILD ALONE’. Sometimes when I think of these poor lost souls, I am presumptuous enough to wish I WAS God, and that I could right the wrongs of the world – but I am not. I have become a storyteller. I hope with all my heart my story helps others in some way.

A CHILD ALONE

  A child stands alone in the street  
All they have is the clothes on their back and shoes on their feet  
So very alone – no one for them there  
Not one single person they feel for them does care

  A child huddles in the corner to keep out the cold  
No food, no blanket, for everything they have sold  
They toss and turn the long night through  
And wonder where this life is leading them to

  A child to live this life must lie and cheat  
And secretly with others they do meet  
And once this drug courses through their veins  
Their lives can never be the same

  A child alone sheds many tears  
Their mind runs rampant with all their fears  
If not helped, they will give up the fight  
And succumb in death to their awful plight

  A child alone struggles to live each day  
If they don’t get help, this drug will take them away  
And they are not the scum of the earth  
Each one of them has so much worth

  If a child alone thinks nobody cares  
They call for help and nobody’s there  
They will lie down and surely die  
And then where does the blame lie?

  We do not leave others when sickness their bodies invade  
Their dignity and life we try and save  
Addiction is a sickness too  
So these children we must help through

  With birth we gave these children the right to live  
What went so wrong that our love to them we can no longer give?  
We must find forgiveness in our hearts  
And from the hurt and pain let us part

  A child alone this battle cannot win  
To leave them alone, our biggest sin  
Stand beside them and listen to what they say  
Be part of their struggle – night and day

  And whether this battle is lost or won  
You’ll walk tall with your daughter or son  
And a greater understanding you will have gained  
A great love and bonding comes with the pain

  God give us the strength to face each day  
Please help us to take the fear away  
Let my child no more to this drug be prone  
I ask this for both of us, because –  
I will not leave my child alone.

*

 I would like to conclude this story with:

THE PRAYER

  I ask please God,  
Give us the strength and courage  
to face the uncertainty of the day  
and the long dark nights.  
Let us live one day at a time  
Let us live it in Your Light.
May You look down on us,  
prop us up when we fall.  
Lead us along the path of hope and  
recovery in love and understanding.  
We put ourselves in Your Arms, Our Father  
for without You, we will surely falter.  
We live with hope in our hearts  
for we know You will not forsake us.
Please God, give the brightness  
of eyes to see the way,  
strength of body and mind,  
and patience  
each day we live.  
We ask, Your Will be done.

  Amen.

Now (October 2000) Julie’s son is back on track. He had two relapses, but because he had been warned that it could happen, they were not regarded as FAILURES – just part of the healing. Because of what happened to him, he and his mother now live completely IN THE NOW - taking each day and each situation as it comes, dealing with it, then moving on. That is the spiritual way of life, and I believe whatever adverse situations arise in life are destined to lead us back to that way of living. Certainly, after adversity you develop a real sense of APPRECIATION - an internal bubbling up of THANKS at the smallest thing. You get a higher sense of life, realising what’s important – and what really isn’t. Who matters – and who doesn’t.

Whether that adversity is a terminal illness, loss of a business, loss of a partner, drugs, alcohol – one of countless ways that bring us to our knees – THERE IS A PURPOSE.

 FACE the situation, work with it – but don’t try to do it alone! Those are our opportunities to turn to the unseen side of life – the REAL part, and ask the Universe for the help we need. Call it God, The Creator, Perfect Love – whatever – JUST TURN.

At least suicide was not one of Julie’s son’s options – here is a poem that he wrote during that time:

A STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN

A stairway to heaven 
is in my sights,  
A chance to be rid  
of the troubles in life.  
Just walk up the stairs,  
and go through the gate,  
forget all about  
the fighting and hate.  
As I stand there, thinking  
in the rain,  
of a way to end  
all the heartache and pain,  
I see a vision  
of what’s ahead -  
of the things Id’ have  
when I was dead;  
No friends, no parties, no spun-out dreams,  
the good things in life  
come apart at the seams,  
'cause there’s no dope in heaven,  
no Jim Beam and Coke,  
and I won’t stay long  
if I can’t drink or smoke.  
So I dry the rain  
from my head,  
walk inside and  
go to bed  
and dream of love,  
and all things cool,  
and leave heaven’s stairway  
to some other fool.

  B.S.

Unfortunately, some do succumb to death. So very hard for the parents, now filled with remorse and guilt – some are never able to pick up the pieces again. This verse channelled by Julie has helped many such parents:

DEATH IS A BLESSING

  Death is a blessing we must all accept,  
We cannot see the blessing in death,  
But it is peace, calm, tranquillity,
We grieve for a loved one lost, 
We grieve for ourselves.  

We carry the pain and loss of death – not the one who has passed.  
For you, life must and will go on,  
So you must let go of the loved one and carry on.  
Life can be long or short - it matters not,  
But we all touch the heart of someone whilst we are here.

  So we learn the lesson of grief.  
A lesson that hangs heavy on our hearts  
But learn we must,  
And we can, by sending the lost one love  
Wish them peace,  
Know tranquillity be theirs  
And they live on.

  Let go of them – let yourself go free  
Live your life for yourself,  
Think of the loved one, but know they go on to a better place  
Free of pain and sorrow.  
   
Grieve for yourself, for now you suffer  
Until you learn to release your feelings.  
I tell you this with love  
For love is between you and the one you grieve for  
And love is between you and me.

Julie was also given insight into the emotions of drug users – letting her see both sides of the coin, for UNDERSTANDING is a great teacher.

CHILD OF THE STREET

I am the offspring of a family  
But they couldn’t understand me  
I see no hope for this life I must live  
 No one to me a job will give.

  They talk but don’t listen to what I say  
If they did, perhaps together we could find a way  
To give me a feeling of worth and pride  
Life would be easier with a loving parent by my side.

  But my parents with me cannot cope  
So I find solace in taking dope  
At home, of laziness I am accused  
My mind and body is abused.

  I leave this home with a bitter taste  
Now on the streets my time I waste  
We have no money to buy a meal  
So someone’s belongings we must steal  
And if that does not my hunger quell  
Then my body I must sell.  
   
We live a life full of mistrust and fear  
My friend has not reached their teenage year  
Under bridges we live in packs  
With no warm blankets to keep the cold off our backs  
Time passes slowly when you’re all alone  
And the streets you have to roam.

  I crave the love of my family  
Do they ever think of me?  
Would they take me back if I knocked on the door?  
Or is this my life forever more?

  I am a child, a child of the street  
Think of me and as you weep  
Think what it’s like at the break of day  
Not to be able to see a better way.

  I have no plans for the years to come  
I must fight to survive this day that has just begun  
My life could be short and if this world I leave  
Would my parents for me grieve?  
Or would guilt be the biggest part of their sorrow?  
For not helping me find a brighter tomorrow.  
 

*

I HAVE A FRIEND

  I HAVE A FRIEND, A VERY CLOSE FRIEND.  
I CAN RELY ON THIS FRIEND TO COMFORT ME,  
TO HELP ME TO FORGET THE CARES OF THE WORLD.

  THIS FRIEND MAKES ME LAUGH,  
ALTHOUGH AT TIMES, NO ONE ELSE KNOWS WHAT I’M
LAUGHING AT.  
THIS FRIEND AND I SHARE THE SAME CIRCLE OF FRIENDS,  
BECAUSE WE ALL HAVE A COMMON INTEREST.  

THERE ARE MANY PEOPLE WHO DON’T AND WON’T ACCEPT MY FRIEND.  
WE ARE NOT ALLOWED TO ENTER THEIR LIVES IN ANY WAY, SHAPE OR FORM.  
WE ARE MADE OUTCASTS.  

MY FRIEND AND I BECOME KNOWN TO THE POLICE,  
WHO FACE DAILY THE MATTERS RELATING TO MY FRIEND.  
MY FRIEND HAS MUCH POWER,  
AND HAS THE ABILITY TO GIVE TO PEOPLE A VERY RICH AND LAVISH LIFESTYLE.

  THIS FRIEND IS CONSTANTLY ON MY MIND, FOR I MUST HAVE THIS FRIEND.  
MY FRIEND IS MY LIFELINE AND WITH THIS FRIEND, I WILL LIVE OR DIE.  
I TURN MY BACK ON OTHERS TO STAY TRUE TO THIS FRIEND.  
I WILL NEVER ADMIT THIS FRIEND RULES MY LIFE.  
I WILL NEVER ADMIT IT BRINGS SUFFERING AND SICKNESS INTO MY LIFE  
I WILL NEVER ADMIT IT CAUSES ME TO LIE AND TO STEAL  
I WILL NEVER ADMIT I HATE THIS FRIEND  
AND I CURSE THE DAY THAT OUR LIVES BECAME ONE.  
I WILL NEVER ADMIT I HAVE LOST FAMILY AND TRUE FRIENDS  BECAUSE OF MY ASSOCIATION WITH THIS FRIEND.

  I FEEL THE TEARS OF SHAME AND SORROW START TO FALL YET AGAIN  
SO I TAKE YOU IN MY ARM DEAR FRIEND  
AND ONCE AGAIN I FEEL YOUR COMFORT  
AND MY MIND IS AGAIN FREE OF ALL THAT TROUBLES IT  
AND I LAUGH TO MYSELF  
ALL IS RIGHT IN THE WORLD

MY FRIEND WARMS ME  
I FEEL IT DANCE WITHIN MY BODY, IT IS SO LIGHT.  
LET ME JUST ENJOY MY FRIEND AND THE PLEASURE I GET.  
LET ME LAUGH  
LET ME DANCE  
LET ME WEEP  
AND THEN, LET ME SLEEP.

*

 A young man who died from an overdose channelled through the following to Julie. He was the one who first introduced her son to drugs and so she was GLAD when she heard of his death – UNTIL he came to her with the following:

A MOUNTAIN TOO HIGH

  I stand and in front of me I see a mountain  
I cannot see an easy path for me to climb this mountain  
It seems to tower over me,  
Making me feel small, humble, ashamed and inadequate.  
It is a mountain of granite rock, hard and cold.  
It does not welcome me  
It offers me no opportunities to climb its steep slopes.  
I stand alone at the bottom of the mountain  
And I cry  
For without the help of guides to show me the way,  
Ropes to stop me when I fall,  
Shoes that give me a firm grip upon the earth,  
I cannot go on.

  I stand in a room,  
And in front of me I see a sea of faces.  
On these faces I see all emotions,  
I see sympathy for me,  
Understanding for me,  
Love for me  
And I also see disapproval of me and judgement of me.  
Some people stand away from me  
While others draw me near.  
Some let me talk and listen to what I say  
While others turn their backs.  
 I ask of you is that you do not shout at me,  
Do not judge me,  
Do not sympathise with me.  
All I need is one person to love me  
And to care what happens to me,  
For without love and care  
I cannot go on.

  I lay on a bed  
Maybe I’m dreaming, maybe I’m not  
I am surrounded by pills, powder, syringes - the lot  
I try not to listen to the voices in my head  
But they scream at me as I lay on this bed.  
   The voice of the wind that swirls the mountain high  
Says, ‘Don’t climb, give up, it’s so much easier to die  
The voices of the people in the room  
Say no joy for me, only gloom  
They whisper but to me they seem to shout,  
‘Leave this room, this world, it’s time to get out’.

  I’ve had enough drink to make me drunk  
So now I’ll fill my veins with junk  
And to hell with trying this life to live,  
No hope, no joy to me did it give  
So many of my friends have gone before,  
Lost to this world forevermore.  
I’ve seen parents cry and wonder why  
But they just don’t understand, although they try.  
   
It’s time now for me to leave and put my tortured body to rest  
I know I was loved and you did your best  
I feel the numbness as the drug courses my veins  
But not much time now does remain.
Love me still although now I am dead,  
Love me like you did when I was a child and you put me to bed  
Just know for some, this is the way it must be  
And from the horror of drugs we must be free.  
Some have the strength to recover and the world is bright  
But for some, we cannot find the Light.

  Mountains too high, voices too loud.
The road ahead too hard to be ploughed.  
Drugs gave me comfort along with pain so deep  
And now they give me peaceful sleep  
They are the one thing I thought of from morning ‘til night  
Use it, buy it, sell it! Such was my plight.
Now I am still in the darkness of night  
I succumb to the drug  
And I give up the fight.

*

Julie finished her story with the following:

There is a lot of intolerance to youth on drugs and I ask you now to think about this…

When you were young, maybe the strongest drug you could have become addicted to was nicotine. How many of us, knowing how addictive they are and without our parent’s consent, bought and smoked cigarettes? How many of us became addicted to them? How many of us have died, or will die of an illness caused by our addiction? How many of us still smoke knowing our addiction could kill? Maybe cigarettes just take longer to kill than the drugs kids use today…so what is the difference between you and I and the drug addict?

Another strong and addictive drug is alcohol. This too affects the way you think and act; it too damages the body and leads to sickness and death. How many people; have lost their lives because of a drunk driver? So, what is the difference between you and I and a drug addict?

How many of us have become addicted to gambling? All our money gone, none to pay the bills. We begin to lie, steal and cheat. So what is the difference between you and I and a drug addict?

If your child in their growing years became addicted to one of the above, what did you do? Did you try to help them or turn them out of your home to live the best way they could? Did you love them any less?

I’m sure in your days these addictions were just as poorly tolerated. They were around then and they are still around now, however, to a certain extent they have been swept under the carpet and the more powerful addiction of today’s drugs has come to the fore. People still sell cigarettes and alcohol and you can gamble any time during the day or night. People are still getting rich out of the misery of others…so what is the difference?

I must state here that I am not condoning nor condemning people. I have smoked from the age of fourteen. I know what it is like to live under the same roof as someone who drinks too much. I enjoy nothing better than a serious game of cards and a day at the casino. We have owned racing dogs for many years and my daughter is involved with racehorses. So I have plenty of opportunities to gamble, which I will openly admit I enjoy.

All I’m asking for is tolerance.

Julie Simmons.

^^^^^^^^^^

The following is a selection of songs, written by a young musician who attended our classes, which beautifully describe his mental journey away from drugs and into his Spirituality. A mother whose son hanged himself had always wondered, ‘WHY’?  Reading those words gave her an understanding of how drugs affect the mind. That helped  her to remove that doubt that perhaps it was her actions that drove him.

There were nineteen to select from, I have chosen nine of them. Our thanks for his permission to include these in this file.

HIGH ON LIFE

I don’t need drugs to keep me going  
I tried it once and it stopped me from flowing  
I’d rather be straight and have a sense of knowing  
A clear head to concentrate on what I’m doing  
So I can reach the peak that keeps me flowing  
Then I will be on a high that keeps on going

  Yeah I will be high on life  
The only drug for me  
High on life  
Sets my Soul free  
High on life  
Yeah I will be high on life

  I’m so glad it keeps me going  
I now have a constant rhythm flowing  
It’s good to be straight and have a sense of knowing  
A clear head to concentrate on what I’m doing  
So I can reach the peak that keeps me flowing  
To stay on a high that keeps on going

  Now I can be high on life  
The only drug for me  
High on life  
Sets my Soul free  
High on life  
Now I can be high on life

REMEMBER

There’s something growing inside of me  
And I like it, yes indeed  
A pulsating energy  
That makes me feel so alive  
No more fighting to be free  
Swiftly flying with the breeze  
Fearing nothing I’m at peace  
All I feel now is love

  And it’s so gratifying  
Yes it’s so gratifying  
And it’s so satisfying  
Yes, it’s so satisfying

  Insightful messages  
Entering my head  
So I can remember who I truly am  
Understanding, tuning in  
Probing deep within  
So I can remember who I am

LISTEN

Listen to your heart  
It will guide you on your path  
To the Truth and to the Love  
The Absolute to Heaven  
 

And I’ll be there waiting for you  
To welcome you back home  
Yes, I will be there waiting for you  
To welcome you back home  
Welcome you back home.  

Looking at addictions of any sort with a Spiritual Eye helps us to cope more easily by realising that it is all about Experience and Overcoming – for everyone involved. Help where you can, hand the rest into God’s Hands. Keep putting the whole situation in the Light, and in this way MIRACLES can happen. Never give up – there is a reason.

The question was asked, ‘HOW DO DRUGS AFFECT US SPIRITUALLY?’ and this is the reply we got from Spirit:

To take drugs of any kind weakens the body cells and lowers the vibrations. There are many effects as a result of this.

Liken the body to a radio receiver and transmitter both. The input regulates the output and so when the body is fed drugs that affect the brain cells the output is foul language, foul moods – foul waste.

The body is both electrical and magnetic, it is not just the physical body – that is just the core, the densest part of a much more complex unit which is surrounded and inhabited by invisible bodies - the whole enveloped in an invisible magnetic field.

As the vibrations of this complete unit decrease, the body cells tune into a different wave band from that of the normal healthy body. The mind hears this new ‘station’ and becomes confused with the multiple voices and electrical static. What is actually taking place is the human beginning to hear a part of itself that it is usually protected from; its own Astral Body, filled with its own thought forms.

There is a function of the human body where the ears cannot normally detect the flow of blood in the head and neck arteries – to constantly hear that would cause distraction to the point of madness. This same ‘tuning out’ occurs to protect one from one’s own thought-forms – which are very real and solid if you take on the same rate of vibration! The voices are one of the mind-bending effects of drugs, the only way to tune them out again is to raise the vibrations of the body unit, and this can be done with the use of the White Light protection and projection.

The initial attraction to drug taking is that it produces a temporary ‘high’ – feelings of euphoria, of being invincible, of becoming wise and all knowing. A sense of ‘forthcoming attractions’ as it were. But unfortunately, the attainment of these things cannot be hastened or created artificially, and the very brain cells that are needed for positive self-development are destroyed by narcotics. They have the reverse effect to true Spiritual development, which can only come about through slow, steady growth, and a cleansing of the human unit – not a debasement of it.

However, that is man’s choice – he finds out through trial and error what is good for his growth, and what is not. All the lessons learned along the way are invaluable – both for the one who experiments thus, and for the people around them who have to deal with this.

You come here to EXPERIENCE My Child, never label ‘right’ or ‘wrong’.