ABOUT THE AUTHOR
The author Leanne Jackson has been involved in the
world of natural therapies for many years and has been part of the awakening of
many issues. She has written three other books pertaining to this genre.
In this book she has used her own experiences from
childhood onwards to draw on and expand this into a story of fiction which
loosely echoes her own life and those of her fictional family.
She feels that many people have also had experiences
and adventures both pleasant and unpleasant and that written down, they too
could form a story of interest for other people to enjoy and maybe even relate
She has written this book with that format in mind,
that it can be an enjoyable read and perhaps offer an insight to the many facets
of families in today’s’ world.
Writing has now become both a focus and a pastime and
most importantly, an enjoyment, which she hopes she has passed on to her
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS AND DEDICATION
This book has been written to offer the biggest heartfelt
thank-you to all my fellow soul mates who offered to be once again a part of my
human existence, and to play which ever role was applicable in order for me and
my soul to grow.
Each and every-one has contributed to this growth in good
ways, and as some-times perceived, not so good ways, but the roles were right.
Hopefully my growth has been positive and hopefully in some
way I have also contributed to your growth.
Family, friends and acquaintances I wish to pass on my
gratitude and re-iterate that without you, my life would have been without
This is my story.
Everyone has two lives, the one they need to live and
the one they choose to live.
This is not out to prove that every soul has two
lives, I just know that it has been a fact in my life up until this point, and
this is how I slowly came to this understanding.
For many years I have searched and been part of the
‘New Age’ scenario which is one way of explaining my road to this discovery, but
I will begin at the beginning.
Although I wasn’t aware of it for many years, I was
the product of a ‘had to get married’ couple. My understanding now is that we
actually chose the situation of our birth and a path which will offer us the
events which we need to address in order for us to progress in the growth of our
spiritual soul. Our parents have their chosen paths they can follow along with
any siblings, and they may choose to address any situation that confronts them
or they may choose not to. Whatever path you choose usually opens up another
scenario and so the choice is presented again to choose or not.
There is no right or wrong or prize or punishment,
because when you return to your home base, which in the popular belief is called
heaven, you will then have support to review your own actions or non-actions.
You can then negotiate another set of conditions with the aim that it will help
you achieve advancement in your own personal soul’s growth, and maybe
enlightenment, which it is sometimes referred to as.
This is just a short overview of my belief, and over
time I have proven it to myself for my own benefit, and so it has become a
natural belief of mine and one which I can relate my own personal experience to.
So I return back to my original beginnings in the
womb. Babies are very much aware of outside influences and in fact it has been
studied by the medical profession and given the grand name of Fetology as they
have proven that babies can respond from the womb. They are certainly responsive
to emotional issues and so I began my life with a ‘not wanted’ scenario. This
was not hard to figure out when as time went by I became aware of my parents
situation during my womb time.
My mother had ventured out from a small beachside
town in northern N.S.W. when she finished school and, along with a girlfriend
who became my godmother, headed to the bright lights of Sydney just before a
world war was about to break out. She had been one of five living children with
three dying young before she was born and knowing of her makeup in later life, I
am guessing that she would have loved the bright lights and freedom she found
there. She did however always give us a fairytale version of her life in the
tiny town by the sea.
My father had also arrived in Sydney from Melbourne.
At an early age he had lost his father due to the First World War and had grown
up being very supportive of his mother. His parents had migrated from Scotland
and he had been born soon after. When he was around the age of two, his father
joined the Australian forces and returned to France to fight and eventually
returned back to Australia. Due to his injuries he was mainly in and out of
hospital until his death a few years later.
Family rumour has it that he needed to leave
Melbourne and his close family ties in order to expand his horizon.
These two people met up in Sydney at a dance one
night and I can say that, not being very responsible for their own actions, soon
meant that I was on the way. I can fully appreciate their immediate dilemma and
can understand why a baby would not be wanted particularly at that point. The
war had now begun and, even more importantly, they were not even married. A
marriage was quickly arranged which was not attended by any of their family
members. My future godmother was now a bridesmaid and I arrived five and a half
months later. One year and ten months later my sister was born; we were now
living in Wollongong and my father was working in the local steel mills which
were producing ammunition for the war.
I have to accept that this alliance was meant to
happen, even my birth situation, but I have wondered if they had had a choice to
marry or not, if it would have happened at that time. Many years later as a
child I would often be told by either one of them that the unhappiness they were
experiencing in their marriage ‘was all your fault’. It was many years later
before I found out the reason for this accusation and the words did form a scar
for me that I had to deal with at a later date.
We left Wollongong when I was around four years old,
driving down to Melbourne, and arriving at my grandmother’s two-bed roomed
house. I think after a short while we then settled down to live in the holiday
house belonging to my father and his mother which was 50 kilometres north in a
very rural setting.
It was like an isolated street of basic houses
completely surrounded by bush and far from any shops. For the times maybe it
wasn’t so basic but we had no electricity; only lamps, tank water, a Coolgardie
safe to keep the food cool, an outside toilet and a tin bath in a tiny room with
only a cold water tap for a bathroom. My father worked in the local sawmill to
which he walked the five kilometres every day.
As a child it was acceptable and I only have good
memories of that part of my life. We loved ‘the bush’ as we called it and as
there were other children nearby we were never bored. All the games and
activities were made up by us and we all learned to climb trees and hide and run
without fear and we would explore the many tracks around. Our father loved it
also, and with him we would walk further afield to a farm to buy milk or a tiny
creek to paddle in. We had tiny bush huts to play in and home-made swings of
rope hanging from trees. I am sure that experience nurtured my love for nature.
Decision time came when I reached six and needed to
attend school. It was too far away to walk to each day with no bus it was time
to move back into the city. My grandmother gave us her house and she shifted in
with her daughter, my aunt, a couple of suburbs away. I loved school and walked
there each day and the next year my sister also started.
I can’t imagine that my life was any different to
many others at that time. People would have been returning to everyday
commitments after the upheaval of the war and trying to resume a normal life. I
know my father would have liked to have bought a house in the area that his
mother lived in, but my mother would not have wanted to live so close and in
this old established area.
My father reconnected with an old friend who was now
a builder and living on the north side of the city. They bought a double block
of land in a very new subdivision and proceeded to build a pair of brick houses.
My father was working during the week and every weekend would drive over and
work on the new house with his friend. I am guessing that would have been fairly
arduous but they soon had built garages on the land and one day we shifted and
began living in ours. I am guessing that also was a fairly normal thing for
those days as I remember the next two double blocks to us were doing the same
thing. In their cases the parents appeared to live in one garage and a married
child in another.
Our street was at first only dirt. Across the road
was a farm with a dam which would be subdivided a few years later. There were
many children around and so, once again, we invented games amongst ourselves and
even built our own cubby houses out of the building materials around.
School was fine and my grades were good and we also
found a variety of sports we were also good at. My father had been a very good
athletic runner and we had his cups to prove it. He maybe could have
participated in the Olympic Games which were the ones that had been cancelled
due to the war. So my life was fine at that time. While living in the garage our
father had taken my sister and me one day to a local hospital, and there was my
mother and a small bundle of white, which turned out to be a baby brother. It
must have been very squashy at the time but soon we did move into our house with
just the basics, but at least we now had a bedroom for my sister and I with my
baby brother in my parents’ room. A strange oversight when you think about it is
that you have three children and you build a two-bedroomed house. There was the
outline of a back veranda and this was to be enclosed at a later date as a third
Gradually the house was furnished with light
fittings, a carpet and new furniture replacing the old. My father who was now
doing two jobs and finishing off the house only bought things when he could pay
cash for them. This brought much nagging from my mother who didn’t like being
the last house in the street that the ice man delivered to until we got our
brand new refrigerator.
I am not aware of any upheaval that may have been
happening until the one night that was to change my direction for the next few
My sister and I woke up one night to find my mother
in our room with our door closed and my father yelling from the other side that
she should open it or he would chop it down. It must have been very terrifying
for me because I can still recall it in a way, and I am guessing that this
scenario also began another turning point in the road I was to travel. My mother
wanted me to climb out the window in the dark and run across the road to a
neighbour to get help. I was eight years old at the time and couldn’t understand
why she, the adult, was not taking command as the dark night was a very scary
place to be in. She did open the door when he actually began to hit it and my
sister and I had to hear him hitting her and her crying. I think my baby brother
may have slept through it all and later my father came in to try and pacify my
sister and me.
That night did change direction for me. My father had
been my idol and we had many of the same abilities. That small child began to
question her life and I also know that, on a deeper level, a decision was made
that she would never allow her own children have the same experience, and one of
the over-riding feelings was that of helplessness in a situation beyond her