People seeking

So often seeking,

Seeking what seems to be missing.

So busy moving,

Afraid to breathe.


Afraid to be still,

Afraid to be light,

Afraid to be love,

Afraid to be peace.


Just for today, breathe

Lift your face to the sky…


And receive.


Image: Soap bubble in the air by Vladas Dirzys at, 2015


Who am I and why am I here?

Unsurprisingly, the story of this blog has been an unfolding journey… like the morning sun kissing the surface of a still pond… or the slowly awakening petals of a lotus, opening until we reach its heart.


Image: Pond lily by Kevin M,

This blog began as a way for me to begin writing again… something I had given up as a young woman when I realized I must give myself only one option for the words that needed to be spoken. Now, words begged to be written. I was burning with outrage at the way our Western throw-away society throws away people. I wanted to ignite hope in the hopeless. I wanted to communicate to those considering suicide that “dead is not dead”. I wanted to light a candle in the darkness.

I still want to do that…

But on the way, it changed…

Life called. We live in a society where children must be fed and educated, and a roof over our heads just takes money. My blog morphed into a business website. I learned about Faith and Abundance (yes! with capital letters) and my clinical rooms became a re-charging station for people who help others.

And still, there has been a book calling me… a book calling me to write it. The message has changed. I am still listening for what it may be while I polish each post like a gem… making today’s few words gleam in the sun, resonating with joy and peace, love and hope.

Wishing you all the very best for 2016. May miracles find you daily.


We are all connected…

We are all connected…

Unsurprisingly, I had nightmares that night.

When I finally returned to my hotel room after the first day of the ‘Many Lives Many Masters’ workshop with Dr Brian Weiss, I reluctantly turned on the TV, feeling compelled by a sense of world citizenship. “I should make sure that I know what is happening.” I told myself.

I watched the strained faces of the reporters, I heard the attempts at counting bodies and watched the mountain of flowers grow, and I felt numb and disconnected. It always surprises me – that disconnect. You think I would be prepared for it. There have been so many atrocities in my lifetime, so many disasters, some the violence of nature and some the violence of man.

But I never get used to experiencing those first moments and feeling nothing because it is so shocking… and feeling like I should feel something.

I started to sense the fear being broadcast along with the terrible news, infecting listeners like the most recent form of winter flu. I knew better than to absorb the violence and cruelty into my aura.

I took a deep breath and imagined Light and Love and Healing pouring into Paris. I asked for everyone affected to be nurtured and supported during the crisis. And I asked for forgiveness for the misguided souls who had perpetrated such a criminal act. But I had overlooked something.

I woke in the early hours, bathed in sweat and overwhelmed by panic.

Blog_151219_1993 Ochre Pits2

Image: The Ochre Pits – Sacred Site, Central Australia by Anne Marie McGlasson, 1993

The aboriginal sacred sites were filled with mud. They were choking with pollution and crying out to me for help. I was up to my waist and covered in mud, digging, digging and digging. trying desperately to clear the mud so that the sites could glow again. So they could do their job as a part of a greater system of transmitting life force around the planet. And there was too much mud. It was caving back in on me as I tried to move it away. I was failing. My chest heaved with tortured sobs.

Barely awake, I frantically texted one of my favourite friends from Past Life Regression Therapy training. It was only the next day that I realized that I hadn’t been very coherent, but he listened and lovingly put the dirt under my feet… and I went back to sleep so my higher consciousness could finish the job.

We are one world and one people. What affects one of us affects us all. We are instrinsically attached to this planet we call Earth – mentally, emotionally and spiritually. Indigenous people understand this. Their ceremonies and rituals honour our interconnection with the planet.

The impact of terrorist attack in Paris spread out like a wave, washing through people’s psyche and filling the sacred sites of the world with shock and horror. And there was a group of souls who answered the call to action. I was not alone in clearing the scared sites that night. I woke in the morning with a vision – the sacred sites were clear and once again transmitting their golden light back to humanity.

Click here for more information about our connection to the planet.


You can remember everything…

“Whatever you have forgotten, you can remember.

Whatever you have buried you can unearth.

If you are willing to look deep into your own nature,

if you are willing to peel away the layers of not-self you have adopted

in making your way through the tribulations of life,

you will find that your true self is not as far removed as you think.”

Meredith Jordan


Image: Love is everywhere taken by Lauren Tatner, 2015

with help from the clear sighted Julia Treat

Past Life Regression Therapy training

I love the beginning of workshops and conferences. The hushed expectation – people finding seats in a dance of mystery that places together the people who have natural synchronicity, whether they like it or not. And when the workshop has been organised with full support from the teachers who reside on the higher sub-plane of the mental plane, then miracles are in the air.

I was still bemused by my morning meditation. The image had been quite clear in spite of my way of perceiving things. My feel-sense-see way of doing things showed me a crystal palace of the most beautiful and colourful hues radiating the purest of energies and floating over the top of the hall. It was a promise of wonderful things to come. It was something I could trust.

All my senses were heightened and I was glad that I was staying at Omega, at the workshop venue. From years of meditation and Reiki and experiences in the desert, I was quite aware that I was in a heightened state. I gave myself full permission to do exactly what I felt inclined to, and not worry that I may be too vague to connect well socially. I was grateful not to have to navigate roads and cars. Putting one foot in front of the other and not falling over was enough for me to be content.

Breakfast with Bhavi and friends had been a pleasant social occasion and I was happily scooped up into the group walk from the dining hall to the workshop. To my Southern Australian eyes, it was all so green and lush. Each footstep was a celebration of life. The summer humidity nurtured plants and animals alike – the wild ones quite unselfconsciously helped themselves to the organic vegetables in the garden.


Image: Groundhog, Anne Marie McGlasson, 2015

“Please sit with us.” said Bhavi, and I found myself sandwiched comfortably between two Indian women. The room was a kaleidoscope of people of different cultures and accents, everyone finding their place and finding themselves, centreing themselves in their experience, and locating the connections past, present and future.

“OK” I thought, taking note. “It could be an Indian past life that is important.”

I was under no illusions that my conscious mind had any say in it at all. After all, I had gone to the experiential workshop with Brian and Carole Weiss in Coolum (QLD) the year before. At the end of my time as an adult educator, my conscious intention was to learn new work skills. But what actually occurred threw me into a positive healing trajectory that was entirely personal.

I knew that I could not predict whatever was about to occur…



“It’s never an accident who you sit next to… watch and observe!” Anonymous

I was told this so long ago that I have forgotten who told me and when. To whomsoever, thank you for the wisdom. I have always since found this to be true…

“Hello” she said, the liquid tones of her voice sliding melodiously over each another. “Can my friends and I sit with you?”

The balcony breakfast table I was enjoying was empty, but for me and the cooling breeze that had joined me briefly while drifting its way from tree to tree. “Sure” I said.

“You are very welcome” I added, more correctly, and wondered what adventure was about to begin. “It’s no accident…” I reminded myself and opened my mind and heart to the possibilities of this new encounter. Who was this woman really? Who was she to me? What did she have to teach me?

“It’s no accident” I repeated.

The air was warm and wet in a way that only happens in humid climates, where the make-up slides off your face, but you don’t care because it seems more important that your bare feet wriggle in the dirt. I was excited and ready for all possibilities.

My morning meditations had been particularly encouraging. Visions of crystal palaces and rainbow waves welcoming and drawing everyone in, suggested that something magical and transformational was coming. I was ready. I was prepared.

Omega_Cottage balcony

Image: Omega cottage balcony, Anne Marie McGlasson 2015


Surviving the desert…

It was my survival talk. Why did people think they could run away to the desert and leave all their problems behind? I had seen it again and again. If you think you had problems while living in a city on the coast, then by all means come to the desert… and watch those problems become bigger than Ben Hur and wallop you over the head!


Image: Ormiston Gorge, by Anne Marie McGlasson, 1993

The face sitting across from me might change but the story was always the same. They had problems. They thought running away would help. They especially thought that their problems would go away if they disappeared somewhere remote enough. Sometimes they wanted to be of service, sometimes they wanted to rescue aboriginal people and occassionally they fell in love.

Alice Springs was the frontier. Alice Springs was also the heart of Australia, and that meant that matters of the heart did not magically disappear when you arrived in town, foreswearing all previous experiences. The desert had it’s own magic and it’s own rules. This country was unforgiving to those who didn’t know it.

“OK has anyone given you the survival talk?” I would ask.

And the answer was always “No”.

“OK so let me give it to you…”

Rule number 1: You are no longer living in your Australia. This is Aboriginal Australia. Alice Springs is at the conjunction of 4 different tribal lands and contains many sacred sites. This is sacred country looked after by guardians of the land (spirits of their ancestors). The relationship between aboriginal people and their dreamimg is deeply personal and real. Weird things are going to happen that will challenge your perception of what is real. Be respectful. Get educated. Do a cross cultural course facilitated by local aboriginal people. And if an aboriginal person walks onto the road… give way. This is their country.”

And always a look of “Hey, what?” would come over their face.

Rule number 2: You are living in the desert… YOU ARE LIVING IN THE DESERT! Insects and reptiles are not living in your backyard, you are living in theirs! The desert and her moods influences everything we do. When the north wind blows amethyst dust from the ranges through town, the children run wild and the adults get cranky. Watch the weather. Listen to advice. Do not drive out of town without water in the car… ever. The desert doesn’t care that you are only half an hour drive out of town. If you break down without water, you can die.”

Once someone asked me about ‘group psychosis’… as in, was the whole town crazy?

Rule number 3: The desert is a place of intensity… intense beauty, intense challenge, intense experience. The desert intensifes everything. If you thought you could run away, think again. The desert is going to present you with every painful experience you have ever had in the most intense way. If you want to heal things quickly and find your way to a heightened sense of peace and joy, this is the place to be. But the journey can be rough and the pace uncompromising. It is no shame to go home… and in fact, I recommend it if you don’t want to address your issues. But if you stay, I will help you.”

And the face across from me would freeze between fear and doubt. I would see them ask themselves “Is she crazy? Or is this real?”



I was the counsellor for the whole town. Alice Springs was a thriving community in 1993. I arrived as a fresh faced young professional seeking opportunities to expand my skills and experience.

I had begun my working career as a rehabilitation counsellor in Adelaide four years before and through good training and sheer stubborness has survived twice as long as anyone else in an occupation that burned people out in record time. At 27, I was considered to be a grandmother in my field and I was well regarded. I also knew I had to get out.

The Universe provided in the form of a replacing a former work colleague going on maternity leave. It was a dream job, but… Alice Springs!

“Wow!” I repeated to myself “What a great job… but Alice Springs!”

I took the job.

I loved the job.

I loved the town.

I loved the people.

I loved the desert.

I had come home.

1993 Anne_Ormiston Gorge

Image: Anne Marie at Ormiston Gorge, by Anne Marie McGlasson 1993