Reflections by: Olivia Robertson

A lovely young girl of fourteen came down to breakfast and surprised her family by asking for a second helping. They gave it to her. Then she said, after eating it, “I am going upstairs to die. I have taken poison.” She quietly left the table, and went upstairs to her bedroom. Terrified, her family rang up their Doctor. But when he arrived, the girl was dead. At the same time her boy friend, companion at school, had also committed suicide.

I knew her grandfather and grandmother well. I gathered there was no apparent cause. The parents wrote this sad story in their child’s funeral card, with a photograph of her as a smiling, happy girl. When the news of the two suicides was gently broken to her school-mates in our neighbouring town, the children declared that they had contemplated killing themselves. They gave no explanation.

Deeply meditating on this – and I know of many similar cases even afflicting under-eights, I came up with this idea. In the past, children were brought up in a richly populated world containing God, Angels, Ancestors, Devils, ghosts and a future existence for themselves in some other sphere, either pleasant or fearful. That belief in the supernatural was very real was shown to my brother, a rector. A farmer, his parishioner, asked him at a dinner party: “Tell me, Padre, when Our Lord ascended into Heaven, did he go into orbit?” Science was catching up on him! So in this no-man’s land between ‘Homo Sapiens’ and ‘Divine Humanity’, children are brought up in a psychological vacuum, for who can endure the prospect of oblivion at death.

My mother told me she had been afraid of going to hell, because she did not believe in it. At least she had a hope of survival somewhere! One little boy I knew asked what had happened to a lady who had just died. He was told she had gone to sleep forever. He fainted with horror.

Within every creature is totality – childhood, life, death and beyond. Within each human, in the womb, are the embryos of the fish, the reptile – and the famous chimpanzee plus tail, which comprises 98% of our physical bodies. We all start female in the womb anyway.

People who turn up their noses at containing mere animals – and so tolerate vivisection – ignore their divine selves, for our future is with us like a buried star.

I have my painting of the red-haired boy in rags, seated in a slum doorway. I had it propped on railings outside my first painting exhibition in 1938. The little boy himself came up and contemplated himself! When I painted similar children during my work on the Dublin city playgrounds – I gave the children themselves a glamorous version – I would depict them glowing with health, instead of being emaciated; richly clad with necklaces and smart socks and even boots, instead of bare feet. One boy wanted a football jersey. He got it – in paint.

But is there some artistic link with this earth and spirit sphere? I painted the red-haired boy eight years before I saw a child in an energy body. I was lying flat on a couch when I heard a rushing sound – my arms were lifted above my head – and leaning over me was a divinely luminous small boy, shining with golden colour. He had hair like uncarded vermilion wool – and the most glorious smile I have ever seen – showing dazzling white teeth. He looked Indian.

We all have our divine counterpart in Divine Reality. We worry over our transient physical counterparts – a material replica – sometimes a travesty, of our true Selves.

I have seen a divine girl in Spirit who had long chestnut hair and the most amazing blue robe – luminous Royal blue. When I asked why this young girl – about fifteen – showed herself masked, descending into this world, I was told: “She represents the Abused Principle. Her coming is good for the virtuous – bad for the wicked.”

I expect many of us democrats worry about the coming of “Indigo children” – alleged to be from the stars. This suggests a detestable caste system: “I am high, sister.” “And I am higher than you…” Great will be the number of “Merlins,” “Archangel Michaels” and “Nefertitis”, I fear. We have enough of these already. True Avatars do not advertise!

I asked Spirit about this problem of the Almighty Ego, and like the answer. I was told that for every avatar there is a balancing human; which keeps the visitant in order! I was shown Leonardo da Vinci as the Extraterrestrial, and Michelangelo, his human counterpart, well able for him – and also a genius in a human way. I was told to contrast Goethe, the visitant, and Beethoven, the human. As for women avatars, I was greatly entertained by the contrast between Florence Nightingale and General Miranda. Florence had her saintly image reflected spiritually over the sky as Lady of the Lamp. Even my grandmother was reverently christened “Florence.” But General Miranda is unknown to fame. She was a disguised woman, living at the same time as Florence. She joined the Medical Service of the British Army, as a man. Her work was remarkable. She did far more for wounded soldiers than ever Florence could accomplish. Her life, however, had no saintly distinction… On one fascinating occasion the two women met. In a rage, surely for good reason, the General was issuing a stream of hair-raising foul language, while Florence listened with disgust. “What an appalling creature,” she exclaimed. “And they say she is a WOMAN…” Who is she – he – really?”

Who indeed. This see-saw of balance of characters is designed by Providence to help us. Whenever someone comes into our life whom we detest as antagonistic, unpleasant, critical… We face our Judge! For who can judge us as truthfully as an enemy? We should give thanks. By the way, I wonder if Leonardo and Michelangelo ever make it up?

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