RaJohnny Tours ~ Guided Adventures in Kerala India

Now I warned you in the first sentence that I am a writer, so this might take a paragraph or two. I have been searching spiritually for as long as I can remember. I was, from a toddler, a devout Catholic. I became an honor altar boy, having decided at an early age to become a priest. But, for various reasons, as a teenager, I became disillusioned with the church, priests, and nuns and got myself expelled from the Catholic high school that was a tuition burden on my parents. I rationized that I did it to help my parents and improve my education.

I began reading everything spiritual, but non-religious, I could get my hands on. My first exposure to Hindu culture was through “Autobiography of a Yogi” by Yogananda. I mainly read books from the Theosophical Society, especially Annie Besant and Charles Ledbeater- both clairvoyants.

For many years, from pre-teen until after high school, I experienced Déjà vu constantly and it was simply part of my reality. I also clearly heard voices, but did not know what the phrases were about, so pretty much ignored it. I of course always kept that private. I got married and left home at 18, quit going to church, and had 2 children and four stripes on my arm in the Air Force at 20 years old. Life got busy and I didn’t even notice my psychic perceptions went away- not that I ever really valued them at the time.

When I was 23, I joined the Inner Peace Movement and became fully immersed in spiritual leadership. We were all about communicating with our guardian angels and experiencing and developing our psychic abilities. It was pretty progressive- even then in 1969. I typically would lead spiritual study groups 3-4 times a week. The voices and Déjà vu returned. Meditation became my refuge and source of guidance. My career in the fledgling computer industry skyrocketed in Houston, Texas.

When I was 26, I went for the first time to a psychic reader, Nell Elizabeth Kerfoot. Nell was a natural clairvoyant since birth. She was in her 70’s and had been a psychic reader since she was old enough to talk, with family members asking her to read their auras. This is when she was discovered by Annie Besant, President of the Theosophical Society. Annie took Nell, at 8 years old, to India to study several years with Radindranath Tagore, India’s greatest poet and perhaps the world’s greatest writer. The reading she gave me later proved to be amazingly and completely accurate in detail.

I returned for another reading a few months later, and when I was to pay her, she refused it, inviting me to be her apprentice. I would serve her and she would teach me. I mowed her lawn, painted her house, took her places, etc. For the next eight years, I received two one-hour lessons each week that always ended with a reading. Déjà vu came back through my Teacher in full force. Almost every event in my life was anticipated and expected.

During my lessons, Nell, a gifted clairvoyant, would look into a small crystal ball and begin her statements with “My Teacher says”. My spiritual development was being guided by Tagore and he gave me many writing assignments. I would read what I was assigned to write to my Spiritual Teacher in body, and through her, Tagore would critique it, and then give me more to write about. It always had something to do with what was happening in my tumultuous life at the time. Now when I write, I go into an altered state, and it is as if my arms and hands on the keyboard are but gloves for Tagore, scripting elegant verses of commentary on humanity, and I am his instrument- he Loves computers.

After my Spiritual Teacher died, I was misguided and became very materialistic. I had spent all of that time in an intense apprentice, done all that service for so many by showing them spirituality, held the faith all that time, meditated all those zillions of hours, and still was unhappy and unfulfilled, and had not become Clairaudient (yet I was), nor Clairvoyant (yet I had). I became disillusion, or perhaps I should say, illusion-ed. LOL

I climbed the corporate ladder, helping to create a multimillion dollar company trading on the NASDAQ, funded with money from India. I achieved much materially, went through three wives, three families, and many jobs and ventures, to find myself living with my daughter’s black cat Eboni, a Zen Master- I was on the edge of retirement, and alone. I longed for the days when I had family in my life, not remembering all the pain I felt in my family life.

For some reason, I began listening to Indian Kirtan music exclusively- it enchanted me. I began looking up the Sanskrit words I heard in the songs- I began to research India. I began to remember my spiritual roots and I returned to faithfully meditating more than ever. I studied Pranic Healing, got training, and started giving myself energy treatments, healing myself from panic attacks, insomnia, anxiety, sleep apnea, and the normal aches and pains we all suffer with.

I sold my business in North Lake Tahoe, where I had lived for 22 years, and moved to Monterey, California, where I live today. Several years ago, my son was found comatose and near death on the streets of Reno with alcohol poisoning- he was 19 and homeless. After that, it was obvious his brain was damaged. Two years later, he went into a three year penal program for homeless, mentally ill, and drug addicted felons in Las Vegas. He was diagnosed as bi-polar-schizophrenic and heavily medicated to suppress the voices.

When he was released, he lived with me for almost a year. He repeated his alcoholic pattern, and in 2011 at the age of 25, in a drunken stupor, regurgitated into his lungs and suffocated to death. For six months I was also in a stupor with grief. So I journeyed to a spiritual energy vortex in Joshua Tree, California. With my son’s urn of ashes under my arm and headed out to the desert, I encountered a Swami from southern India coming from the other direction. We gave the traditional right hand over heart and respectful bow as we passed.

Within a couple of steps, this frail looking Indian man spun me around, gripped his hands on my shoulders with surprising strength, pulled my forehead to his, and held it there awhile. Next, he released me, backing up quickly- but what impressed me was his huge smile, while rapidly bowing with hand over heart. Then all of a sudden, with the balance of a ballerina, spun around and continued rapidly, and gracefully I thought at the time, on his way. I yelled “where are you from” and, without looking back, he yelled “Tamil Nadu”, and I had a vision of me being there outside a temple as he disappeared. I later learned that is how one Yogi greets another- forehead to forehead. :)

I stood on a hill in the desert in the afternoon when the heat was beginning to subside, which always invokes a stiff wind. With tears and all-consuming emotions, I talked to my son as I cast handfuls of his ashes to be lifted by the wind to spread his remains in a carpet upon the earth in the middle of a high-vibration vortex, and I urged my son to go into the Light. After that, I immediately drove the 12 hours to home.

Each day that I would meditate, just after I invoked for blessings, I had the remembrance of that Swami’s big smile as he bowed and backed away, as if he knew something that I did not. Then in each meditation after arriving home, anything I placed my attention on was shown to me in great detail and in vibrant color- especially in ancient stories about myself and others in my life today. Then in a flash I understood that Yogi’s are all about the Third Eye and the Swami had opened mine- his gift to me, knowingly smiling.

From that point forward, I began to identify those I had shared a life with in the past- many times with details of the life. I was surprised at how many I came across with whom I had a history. Relationships from past lives were being revealed to me that would be significant reconnections in this life- still to be manifested, and perhaps, karma to be balanced or a destiny to be fulfilled.

I have much more story to tell, so stay tuned. There is much more to come...