4. Wisdom from Scotland
The intended launch of part four of my autobiography, Candle and the Wind, was on track for 30/7, the fifth Sunday in July 05, I had picked this title a week earlier. It was only natural for me in my introduction to comment about singer/entertainer Elton John, Lady Di and the popular song with a similar title. As if a spy had anticipated my launch and title, our newspaper ‘The Advertiser’ on that same day featured Elton John on the top of the front page.
I had no doubt that with the latest technology (we had recently connected to broadband) any writing I was doing, might have been externally monitored. If I was still listed, as I had suspected years ago, on a Government register of troublemakers, any surveillance of my activities on and offline might even have been carried out legally.
This didn't bother me. I had taken the course of total openness in my writing online and the action I took. I had nothing to hide and nothing to lose. When I engaged secrecy in passing communication, a video or a whistle blowing letter, I did this only to protect the recipients. If my attempt for privacy worked was unclear. I never received any open feedback.
Unless it was my imagination, feedback came in a coded form. I could see and hear it everywhere. What my family regarded as my mental illness, I regarded certain mysterious happenings, little gems along the way, as feedback that somebody liked my writing and even my playful use of numbers.
The following discovery is a classic example, where I could see how a secret, distant fan created some magic with my numbers. I loved it - judge for yourself.
Just look at the number 531135 on my Maestro (Master) keycard.
I had noticed and smiled about 'my' six digits in my keycard, when it was first issued. But only recently I noticed what those favorite numbers of mine read, after I looked at my card upside down.
L2 SETTES - There are a few possible variations:
SEES TT or TT IT (ES in German means it). Just as I typed I discovered another way: TEST IT.
How would you regard such a fluke? Use the numbers on your next Lotto tip?
An incident at our bank recently could have been in the same vein as above. My wife and I were at our bank branch to clear the debt on our credit card. We were at teller 7. The lady at teller 8 was named Pauline (my mother's name). There was a minor glitch to begin transaction. The lady teller showed us that the computer screen showed our available credit as 909 million Dollars. (Bit disappointing to think I can't be trusted with a billion).
On the day of writing the bank concerned (the Who Bank) announced a record profit of nearly 4 billion Dollars for 04. There must have been many battlers in the same low income bracket as me, who made use of their 909 million Dollars credit card limit!
A thought came to me recently about my original query, co-incidence versus God incident. How can a believer in the power of prayer claim on the one hand that God answers prayer, but on the other hand regards everything that happens as co-incidental? How then do we know, when and if God is at work or it's just happening anyway. I found living by faith, seeing and trusting God in all situations, very rewarding and so exciting, especially when months later it comes back to you. .
The following is a good example of this. In chapter 23, Part 3 (Found) I wrote:
As I turned my car around to reverse and enter the street, which leads to the ‘Peace’ place, I saw a huge No. 7 (house No.) made of brass. It gave my numbers-brain a little comfort that I may be indeed on the right path in my journey.
On July 14th I was showing my wife's cousin from interstate around the Eastern suburbs of Adelaide. Out of interest I embarked on a minor walk down memory lane, taking my visitor to the Arts Centre described in Chapter 23, Found. (It was the place, where I had discovered an interesting painting named Redhill). That day I remembered and wanted to find the huge number 7, which had given me such assurance months earlier. Here is the photo I took:
Just as I took this photo, the clock radio on the dashboard showed 1.07pm. Madness or magic - it's what you believe and see. In this case I had a passenger, who also saw it.
What my visitor thought, when I took the photo of a stranger's front porch, I do not know. He was a relative of my wife and I frankly didn’t care.
Only a few hours earlier the same person, as he was sitting beside me in my passenger's seat, had experienced with his own eyes another idiosyncrasy. We were driving towards the city of Adelaide, where I had planned on delivering copies of a major whistle-blowing letter to various contacts, politicians and the media, around Adelaide.
Trying to explain my action as good as I could, without too much confusing detail, I said at one point: “One of the letters I am delivering goes to a radio station. The two presenters are on right now." As I said it, I switched on the radio, which was already tuned to the channel in question.
That wasn't unusual. What blew me over was the first words spoken by the presenter concerned: “…people sent us letters all the time.”
If my passenger noticed anything unusual, I don’t know. I explained this kind of thing was happening to me all the time. I am not sure, if I was making sense to him.
Contemplating later, I realized the date I had bombarded those important people with one of my most brazen letters yet, took place on a very appropriate day. The French Independence Day, July 14, is called Bastille Day, because it celebrates the storming of the Bastille, a famous prison, during the French Revolution, in 1789. With the taking of this prison, the movement to replace a two-person government with a representative government began.
I too was hoping to achieve a revolution – to replace all corrupt elements in politics and the judiciary with open, honest, dedicated people. If this could be achieved through my strange escapades, discoveries and writing about them, remained to be seen. I had embarked on a mission, trusting it was God's will. I just followed my instincts.
In late June 05 this instinctive sense alerted me as I flicked casually through a newspaper. I noticed this ad on page 25, a number that had dominated a recent chapter of my biography. I took notice immediately.
The numbers 5 & 9 stood out, as well as GOOD. It warranted a trip to St. Marys. When I arrived there I noticed straight away that above premises are located on the corner of Brookman Street. I knew it was a game. Walking up Brookman Street I picked up a bicycle helmet, not a blue one, just the white foam shell. The company's name right there, F IC, fitted nicely; so did the business just around the corner - Howden. How den this happen?
My simple maths brain played with the number 25, the central number, which had played a remarkable role a month earlier. (So did a bike helmet plus the remarkable address 1053 on the same road). 1053 + 250 = 1303.
And why print a correction in an Adelaide newspaper, when the wrong information was originally from a paper in the UK. Unless there is a Guardian in Adelaide and I don't know it?
Around the time of launching part 4 of this book, another unreal series of events occurred, while surfing the net. It culminated in an incredible matching of numbers, which seemed to be dominating my supernatural awareness around this time.
If what I saw was nothing, then it was a remarkable bit of nothing. I discovered a link between the parking incident in Downtown Melbourne (Chapter 45, Found) and an address in Edinburgh, Scotland, which I just happened to glance over online, while looking for email addresses. (I had hinted to this in the previous chapter, here are the details).
Like the Lone-Wolf-connection, a blue train linked to a website in the USA, this complex trail of data from Melbourne to Edinburgh may be nothing but a series of numbers. However, if an intelligent power had arranged it all behind the scenes, it could be confirmation that God really leads people's minds and can control everyday activities, even surfing the net, if HE wishes to do so.
On Wednesday 27 July, 05 I had dropped my wife’s cousin back to the Adelaide airport, after his visit with us. The timing was perfect. After seeing him board the plane I had just enough time to drive the short distance to Glandore, a nearby suburb, to attend a free seminar about mental illness, run by the Mood Disorders Association.
Normally I would stay clear of such gatherings, simply because I felt better than ever after my mental trauma some years earlier. Plus I knew a lot about the subject. Yet, I felt to go to this information morning as soon as I heard it on the TV News a night or two before. I registered the time and place on my brain. It tied in with my trip to the airport.
As I listened to the speakers I reflected on my own experience. I was thankful for living a normal life, free of tablets or visits to doctors or hospital wards. During the presentation I had a thought. Sufferers of mood disorders find comfort in the fact that a long list of famous people also suffered from manic depression. Many were able to live normally and achieve great things, despite their bouts of depression. Winston Churchill is the classical example.
A thought struck me when I heard the phrase ‘delusions of grandeur’, one of the symptoms of the illness. Something didn’t make sense; the phrase was badly worded.
A day or so later I sent an email to the presenters of the seminar, with copies to professional psychiatrists in Australia, the USA and the UK. (During this process I stumbled cross the Edinburgh address). My email explains, why I didn't like the word delusions.
Subject: Re-naming symptom, dated 30/7/05
On Thursday I attended an information session of MDA at the Glandore Community Centre. Thank you very much for the excellent presentation.
I had one thought afterwards. Perhaps the profession needs to re-phrase the term 'Delusions of grandeur'?
Why am I saying this? At presentations such as yours we always hear of the big names, who suffered from the same condition as us - Winston Churchill is only one of many. You know the list of who's who, famous names, who suffered from mental illness, is a long one.
Why don't we rephrase the symptom from delusions to 'Dreams of grandeur'? You see, when we use the term delusions, we already judge the person in a very negative way. Winston dreamt of liberating Europe, Spike Milligan dreamt of entertaining millions on radio, etc. etc. Did these people suffer from delusions or simply have dreams, which, thank God, came true?
I also think that your powerpoint presentation should include phrases like Prayer (not just meditation), or Minister of Religion (not just social worker) and Church (not just Support Agency).
One final suggestion - even if the vast majority of sufferers will need medication for the rest of their lives, not all do. There are some, who become well again and live without medications happily ever after. God can heal body, soul, spirit and restore minds. He did mine.
Dieter R. Fischer
you might think I'm ...
PS I better not become
At the discussion time I had brought up above point about the spiritual aspect of mental recovery. I was speaking from first hand experience that a good dose of God inside an honest, clean mind can work wonders.
But please, nobody discontinue medication, only because this worked for me. My intimate and dedicated relationship with God was my anchor, when I went through the storm, losing my job, my sanity and the respect of family and friends. (The trouble is this storm has long passed, but my family won't let me heave the anchor).
As I searched for an email contact on the website of the Royal College of Psychiatrists in Edinburgh, Scotland (http://www.rcpsych.ac.uk/contact.htm#scot) I noticed for a flash of a second their postal address. I wasn’t writing a letter; there was no reason to take notice. But I caught enough info within the postcode to pause and have a second look. I was astounded and perplexed. I was tempted to just move on and say, so what? But my mind could not concentrate.
I kept coming back to re-read the postcode. The more I did the more peculiar it became. Was there a message for me from faraway or was my mind playing games? That game!
In times like these the loneliness of my journey became almost overwhelming. I longed to just say to somebody - Hey look, isn't that unusual? There wasn't anybody who appreciated the way I viewed my world. I wasn't looking for praise, just acceptance that I was creative not crazy; why didn't somebody accept that my noticing numbers was normal, magic normal! It was frustrating. You judge.
Email to The Royal College of Psychiatrists, Edinburgh, UK, dated 30/7/05:
Subject: Your address and postcode
Is the address below really your correct address? I find it amazing, if it is. If you want to know why, please email me and ask. It truly is a remarkable co-incidence.
12 Queen Street
Kind regards from Australia
Initially it was 1JE that had caught my eye. It hit home straight away. Those three digits were the very same as that of the parking clock in downtown Melbourne (Chapter 45, Found). Can you see three more Da Ninci codes? The first part of the postcode HE 2 fitted perfectly into the picture. Was I getting the same 'Melbourne message' re-enforced from Edinburgh, Scotland?
But there was more. Those with a good memory realized that my JE 1 parking clock was located in Elizabeth Street, named after our Queen.
Friends, if God led my fingers and the mouse button of my P/C to discover all this, there must be a reason. HE is not one to torture our minds. HIS Spirit is described in the bible as one of love and of power - and sound. My modern German version translates the last word of this verse as ‘Besonnenheit’. This word stems from the word ‘Sinn’, which means mind or sense. It all makes sense.
What conclusion would a research scientist, a brilliant academic, draw after discovering such a remote, complex connection during an experiment in the laboratory? Let me say, if he or she was simply ignoring it, no sensational new discoveries would ever come out of that laboratory.
Driving home on Main North Road (it was in late 2004 or early 05) I took this photo. As I drove past, the figures 95/96 registered, plus the large letters PRC. I turned back. Glad I did.
Was I not in a precision race? Was this a component? I read ...531 the registration plate. VIC stands for Victoria, the place I started my trip from in 2003. My destination was the USA.
A few weeks later I noticed the location - exactly opposite Glover Street. Lover it. (The land has since been built on).
There was a further, similar distant link to the UK after my July Melbourne trip. As I lay in my Suzuki that memorable Sunday morning, July 3rd, listening to the radio uninterrupted, I overheard a website address and a name. I took a mental note. Something had struck a cord, but I soon forgot about it.
After arriving home two days later on July 5th, I googled with the phrases and web address I vaguely recalled. Suddenly, again as if somebody was teasing my code filled brain I came across a website. The address read 15 North…. Street, J. Goodall, VC1 etc. I clicked on the locality map and noticed a main road nearby - Goswell. I hoped that all goes well.
Out of curiosity I emailed to enquire about the name mentioned on the radio a few days earlier, if that man was known in their organisation etc. I received an automatic reply. I simply said that the recipient was away until July 11th and to direct any urgent matters to Erika.chivers@ …. I tried to sent my email to her, but the link was dead, which made me suspect that somebody was playing games with me and my codes.
Extract from my diary - July 5th, 05
What do you make of a lady called Erika Chivers? When I tried to respond and send her an email, the link was dead. Was somebody in London shivering in mid-summer?
The book of James in the bible starts with a paradox – be happy when you are going through trials. Those going to church have heard sermons on the subject. Lately this scripture has been my comfort. I imagined that God was testing people's faith, not only mine. This was the only way I could cope with these incredible numbers incidences I came across.
I had not searched for any of these numbers, they came to me. I thanked God for what was happening, despite not understanding it all fully. HE knows what is going on behind the scenes - in Melbourne, Edinburgh or London.
My reading for today (Aug 9th, 05, the day of writing) from Every Day with Jesus was right along these lines. The first sentence "The sooner we come to terms with the fact that there are things which happen in life, for which there is no adequate explanation, the better we shall be". This takes true wisdom, friends.
The first chapter in the book of James reveals some of the secrets of a successful life. For years I had prayed to God for wisdom, quoting verse 5 of James 1 in my prayers.
It seems a paradox, but if you admit that you need wisdom from God, you are having a wise thought. The next step is to ask God for wisdom. If you then really believe, without any doubt, that God will give you HIS insight into whatever situation you are faced with, you will be acting in wisdom.
HE promised to grant HIS wisdom to all, without discrimination, to those who simply ask of HIM.
No credit card, membership card or any Id-card is necessary. Just an honest, humble heart.
If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him.
(James 1, 5)