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QuantumPathic^®
Center of Consciousness
6701 E. Clinton St.
Scottsdale, AZ 85254
(480)609-0874

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Along My Way By Sherry Anshara

Prior to 1991, if anyone had asked me if I thought I would be doing what I am doing today, I would have told them, "You are crazy!"

The funny thing is I always knew I wanted to write a book. I did not envision writing a book like this one. Since I comprehend now that nothing is ever what we think it is, my life is definitely not at all what I thought it would be today

Looking back, I had so many unusual episodes and experiences that did not fit the 'norm' at the time. As a very young child, I saw lights emanating from people and sometimes around objects. Sometimes it appeared to me as if I was watching a movie. I could see objects, symbols, and colors in the light surrounding a person. But, I realized very early that talking about any of this was not appropriate. This frustrated me as a child.

The paranormal was never discussed in my family, certainly not with me. I would say the concept of precognition was not even a consideration to be discussed. I had many of those experiences, knowing something would happen and it did.

In one of those incidents, what my mother called, "a scary moment," I had one of those "feelings". At age nine, my mother and I, vacationing with my aunt and uncle, were staying at a cottage on a lake in the upper peninsula of Michigan. It was a fairly remote area.

My mother and aunt wanted to row across the lake to spend time together alone, talking girl-friend talk. As a rule, I was an independent child, not minding when my mother left. On this particular day, however, I felt an intense feeling that danger threatened them if they went out on the lake alone.

My feelings were so clear, I threw a temper tantrum to stop them from going. At the time, I was unable to articulate my intuitive feelings. My mother, angered by my unusual behavior, was embarrassed. Even my aunt was taken aback by my tantrum. In order to pacify me, they took me along, begrudgingly. They were aggravated at not being able to be alone.

Together, we rowed across the lake to a little marshy island. When we arrived there, they got out of the boat to walk around, leaving me in the boat. Within minutes, they were up to their knees in quicksand. They screamed and I screamed with them. I was terrified. I knew what I had felt earlier was now happening. Fortunately, for all of us, my uncle heard us. Jumping into a motorboat, he came to our rescue.

My mother was uncomfortable with these kinds of events. My precognizant abilities were not understood. She wished that I would not "do them", and not talk about them. What neither she nor I understood at the time was that they just happened. I wasn't doing anything.

Deep, deep inside of me, always I felt connected, connected to something beyond the here and now. Yet, I learned to be quiet about it, and not to talk about it to anyone. I still did not want to be considered weird. Throughout my entire life, I had many pre-cognitive experiences. Some seemed sad or seemed joyful, but to me it was merely information. My idea was to control it, and not expose myself to the world.

As a young woman in the sixties, many young people were using drugs. They would talk about their experiences while under the influence, relating stories of visions or their trips. It seemed ridiculous to me to have to use drugs to have out-of-body experiences, when I was having them sober and under control. Matter of fact, the funny part of it is to me, is my closed friends would try to get me drunk so I would "spill the beans." They wanted to know about their futures, their past lives, present day concerns. After two glasses of wine, my guard dropped, and I would tell them everything they wanted to know. When it was about the future, it happened just as I told them.

Where I was at the time, I was unable to give it a name. The information came readily. I knew what I was doing, but I denied that I was doing it. I did not want to be identified with those weird people we call psychics, intuitives, or heaven forbid, "fortune-tellers".

There are no accidents if life. At twenty-two I was in an extraordinary auto accident. In a brand new 1965 red Corvette, I was a block from home. I was hit twice by a hot Chevy. The Chevy broadsided me, spun around and hit me again, pushing my Corvette over a curb. My car knocked down a 40' evergreen tree sheering it off at the ground. The force pushed my car into a cement block wall caving the front end in up to the windshield. The jolt of the crash caused a severe head injury and internal bleeding.

The crash totaled the car and almost totaled me. It was a miracle I lived. I remember being out-of-body, and feeling light and free. I remember the moment I re-entered my physical body. I know now that this was a near-death experience, but I did not know what to call it at the time. In 1965 I had no intention of telling anyone this part of the story. Then again, I had no one to tell. There was no one I could talk to about it. Who would have listened? Not my husband, not my family, not my friends, no one would understand. Inside I felt even more different than before.

So, I told no one. I intended to get on with my life. I would do what I thought I was supposed to do, to be a wife, to work, to live the American dream. Even in 1965 my desire was to be a career woman in business. I wanted to emmulate my brothers in business. Getting married was not my idea, but I did so because it was part of the program. I called this my "double life," the life I performed on the outside, and the life I experienced within myself. They conflicted.

Life progressed. To a casual observer, or even to my family and friends, my life appeared normal. My husband and I had a beautiful home in Michigan. We both drove expensive cars. I was in business. We owned an airplane. We lived the dream, all according to the programs of contemporary society. It was a very third dimensional life.

In my third dimensional life, I looked pretty good. As a businesswoman, I owned businesses, as well as being an executive in a large corporation. I belonged to many business and professional organizations, such as International Association of Women Pilots, National Association of Female Executives, Special Interest Video Association, just to name a few. By third dimensional standards, my life appeared normal. Sometimes it was normal. Sometimes, I loved my life. I had fun. I worked hard and played hard.

Inside me, though, I knew there was more. Not being able to put my finger on what "more" meant, I remained unable to identify what was happening to me. The idea of multiple dimensional experiences had never been part of reality, even though I had continuously experienced a variety of mysterious phenomena. Today they can be identified as channeling, astro-projection, out of body experiences, extra-terrestrial visitations, angelic visitations, pre-cognition, telepathy, empathic moments, you name it. Then I could not name it--or explain it. All of these experiences were happening to me. Sometimes, it was like watching a movie. I was in the movie and in the audience at the same time.

From 1965 to 1991, by all intents and purposes it appeared to the outside world I lived an ordinary life. However, life is not always what it seems. For these twenty-six years, I still led my double life. My not-normal experiences remained secret. My mysterious escapades, journeys of my soul, stayed hidden most of the time. Sometimes in a moment of fun and playfulness, I might reveal information to a friend or client in a style that cloaked the profoundness of the information and how it was coming to me. For example, I might be talking a friend about their life concerns. In the course of the conversation, I would express caring and concern in a consultative style. They had no idea that the source of the information I was relaying to them originated from an angel, a departed loved one, or spirit guide that I could actually see and hear at that moment.

There are no accidents in life. Twenty-six years later, in 1991, I experienced a car accident even more extraordinary than the one before. A foreshadowing of this accident came to me while I was under hypnosis for a past-life regression a month before the accident. Feeling like I was in a very dark, oppressive place, I felt terrified. Panicked, I forced myself out of the hypnotic stated abruptly, not know what this feeling was. I decided I was not going to go there. From this experience I knew deep inside of me that something awful was going to happen, something that I did not like or want. I just wanted to ignore it. If I did not think about it, it would go away.

A month later an occurrence happened that I have come to define as a "set-up". A "set-up" comes about when the higher self overrides the ego for the purpose of placing us in a situation, condition, or a "twist of fate" that changes our lives in a profound way. I was in New York City at a corporate a tradeshow attended by approximately 30,000 people. Out of all these people who were there, an acquaintance from high school walked up to my booth and said, "Don't we know each other?"

"Oh my God, we went to the same high school!" I exclaimed, and asked, "What are the odds of us running into each other here at the Javitz Center?"

We chatted and laughed about school. After a brief conversation, she asked me when I would be on the east coast again. "As a matter of fact, I will be in Boston next month, the week of Memorial weekend," I replied.

"What a coincidence, so will my husband and I. When are you flying back to Michigan?" she asked.

"My business conference ends Friday at 5:00. Then I head for the airport," I responded.

She stepped back and said in amazement, "My husband and I are through with our business at 5:00 that same day. So instead of flying back to Michigan, why don't we just pick you up, and come with us to Connecticut and stay with us in our home over the Memorial Day weekend?"

"Sounds like fun," I confirmed. So we made a plan. Little did I know how that plan would change my life.

That particular Friday after 5:00, the three of us drove from Boston to Connecticut. We had dinner and decided to go out for dessert and drinks in a neighboring town. After she parked, we began walking toward the restaurant. While we were walking, an acquaintance of hers called her over to say hello. I said I would go on ahead into the restaurant and wait for her there.

As I was walking across the parking lot, a woman in her car was backing out of her parking space and smashed into the car behind her, then pulled it forward back into the parking space. She swung her door open and stumbled out of her car, obviously drunk. She asked me if I could help her get her car out of the parking spot. As I remember in this part of the "set-up," now I ask myself, "What the hell was I thinking?"

With my purse on my shoulder, which contained all my identification of whom I used to be, I got in the car. I put her car into reverse. Like a shot, it smashed into the same car behind her again. I could not believe it! I thought to myself, "I am in big time trouble while I was trying to help someone." After putting the car into neutral, the next thing I know…the car is doing about zero to sixty headed for the metal fencing surrounding the parking lot, which overlooking the marina, mooring luxury boats and yachts.

Seeing the railing ahead of me, I expected the car to be stopped by the fencing. Instead, the railing served to catapult the car and me approximately forty feet in the air. The car flipped over in the air, landing upside down in the water, and settled at the bottom of the Connecticut River. My body was trapped in the upside down car fifteen feet below the surface. But I was not there.

As soon as the car took off, I was out of my body, flying through the tunnel. The next thing I know I was having an extraordinary conversation with twelve light beings dressed in iridescent white robes. To me they looked tangible as if they had physical form. We were on what seemed like a space ship hovering over the river just above the accident. I could see people running around trying to figure out what happened. I watched it in living color, but feeling very detached from the events happening below. I could have cared less.

What struck me so funny was that the only color in the room where I was with the white beings was me. That day I wore a black and white knit jacket with red piping, with a black skirt and a matching black and white knit top. Amusingly, the knit top had an embroidered nautical anchor on it. I thought how profound and coincidental.

The red piping on my jacket and the black in the outfit was the only color in the room. Even though I was overwhelmed, I still felt safe. The feeling of unconditional love permeated my being. Love was all around. Unconditional love enveloped me. Not a physical word was spoken. But I knew I had choices to make. I grimaced to myself, "Do they really expect me to get back into that body?" The truth is, it was up to me.

What I was given to know is it would be more than just me who would be returning to that body, a body that I really did not want anymore. I just wanted to be free and go home. Home was not Earth. What I was given to understand, and the agreement I made at the time, was thirty-two celestial beings from a variety of dimensions would accompany me.

These beings would be housed in my body with me. My body would facilitate the missions of each one during various times, by allowing them a physical expression of their messages. My body would be the channel for them to fulfill their purpose and our agreement. Their purpose was to communicate messages in the form of poetry, songs, writings, speaking, drawings, and intuitive healing. These messages would be designed to help human beings empower themselves.

My visit with these beings who radiated love transformed me. Through unspoken communication, I understood I would be returning to my body. The next thing I knew I was in a tube shooting up to the top of the water from inside the car. When I reached the surface, I opened my eyes to see people on the docks. I had no idea how much time had passed. I had just experienced the "no-time". Time did not exist where I had been. "I can't swim," I screamed at everyone. In a split second, someone reached me from behind and lifted me up to people holding out their arms to help me up onto the dock.

As I was lying on the dock, I remembered saying to the people hovering me that I was going into shock. I tried to get up. Someone said, "Lay still." I replied, "I have to get up and go home." Someone in the crowd asked, "Where do you live?" They laughed when I said, "Michigan."

Still trying to get up, I heard a man's voice telling me to lie still, that I had a head injury. While still lying on the pavement, I reached with my right hand to touch my forehead. My middle finger felt it's way into the gash in my forehead. As I pulled my hand away, I saw watery blood run down my arm. The ambulance arrived.

I was whisked off to the hospital emergency room. The funny part about that was the emergency room doctor said that I required stitches. For some unknown reason, I said to him, "I was told if ever I was in accident, and required stitches, to ask for a plastic surgeon." He looked at me and said, "I'll get one." At 1:30 in the morning, a wonderful doctor showed up. He told me," Do you know I came here from a party just to sew you up?" We both found it amusing. The other strange thing about it was I was unsure who inside me orchestrated this situation. This may sound strangely bizarre, but true. Looking through my eyes, everything around me appeared different to me.

The doctors said they wanted me to stay at the hospital for observation. They would determine if they would admit me to the hospital the next day. The next day, I was admitted. As a result of the accident, bruisings and swellings began to manifest on my body, particularly my face and head. These outward physical injuries were normal considering the trauma of the accident that I had experienced. However, when I looked in the mirror, I looked different to me from the inside.

I felt different from the inside. When I looked in the mirror, I had no idea who that person was. I was changed. Part of me seemed to be me. The rest of me was not me. The rest of me was someone else or a combination of someones who I did not know. My roommate in the hospital room had a little girl about three years old. When she came to visit her mother, she began to stare at me, told her parents about the light around me. She wanted to get physically close to me to be embraced by that same light. Her parents were astounded. This little girl did not want to leave my side. I did not know what to make of this.

Word got around the hospital about this lady who had been involved in an unusual accident. "Good Samaritan" they called me in the local newspapers. The papers reported the accident occurred because I was trying to help a drunken woman and almost killed myself in the process. Since this was a teaching hospital, doctors making their rounds would come and see me with their residents. Curious, they wanted to talk to me about the experience. I was even interviewed by a psychologist and psychiatrist. Some element in my story that I told over and over piqued their interest. They kept asking me how I got out of the car. I would say, "Do you want me to tell you how I got out? Or how you think I got out?" To me there was a significant difference.

Parts of my experience I could not share with anyone, because it was difficult even for me to accept what occurred. Who would believe me anyway? Certainly not the doctors or the hospital staff! How could I explain my experienced to them without them thinking I was nuts? I chose not to do that to myself. So I gave them the best version I could while I trying to put it all together myself.

That first morning when they brought me breakfast, I told them, "I absolutely had to have raw food, nothing cooked." I have no idea where that was coming from. I just knew my body required only raw food. The staff dietician came to see me immediately. She said, "I'm the expert here. We have the best food to make you recover better." I replied, "I insist on eating only raw food, fruits and vegetables. That is all I want to eat." We compromised, cooked oatmeal and the rest was raw. I knew she thought it was ridiculous. The truth was I agreed with her…but some force inside of me said "raw foods only."

I would walk around the hospital in what I could only describe as a euphoric state. In some moments, it was like I had never seen a hospital before, like something I was experiencing for the first time. As Sherry, I had been in hospitals before. Yet through my eyes, my new eyes, it seemed as though all of this was new. The sense of curiosity puzzled me. Why should this experience seem so unusual? Who was it that was having this unusual curious experience? Who was looking through my eyes? It would be quite a while before I found out.

The plastic surgeon visited me three days later. He had come to see my progress, and found himself amazed. My head injury, which he had so skillfully stitched up, was almost completely healed. He reminded me of our first encounter in the emergency room. He said, "When I first saw you, it was like you were orchestrating the hospital staff on how to take care of you. I found you calm, deliberate in your directions, intelligent, not pushy, but in a matter-of-fact way." I said, laughingly, "If I was so intelligent in my directions, I should have asked for a facelift, too." He got the biggest kick out of that. He took my stitches out, and that was the last time I saw him. Maybe someday he will give me a facelift, or a facelift to that person who was so calmly directing my emergency room experience.

One of the funniest things that happened during my stay is the hospital operator calling me, asking me if I was a celebrity. I did not know what she was talking about. She said to me, "We have never had so many phone calls from all over the country asking about a patient like we are having with you." I told her I was just as amazed as she was. Perhaps from the notoriety of the accident, people could not believe I was alive. My pilot friends called me and said, "Sherry, you are supposed to fly airplanes, not cars." The truth of it is, I was beginning to fly in a different way.

After a week's stay, I decided it was time to return to Michigan. Although I suffered a traumatic head injury and an incredible near-death experience, I knew it was time to go home, at least to my idea of what home was. From my hospital room I made all the arrangements. First, I informed the doctors and staff, I was leaving. I called the airlines, booked a flight, called a cab to take me to the Hartford airport. The doctors gave me painkillers to relieve the pain while traveling…and off I went.

I knew in every part of my being my life would never, ever, be the same as it was before. Before this incident, I could never have imagined what lay before me in the next ten years. Many times in these years that followed I wondered why I just did not die. It would have been so much easier. For me, death is a piece of cake. Living is the challenge. I have learned so much about myself, about my agreements with these beings, and yet, there is so much more to learn. We have just begun to scratch the surface of who we really are. Our race is in its infancy. Although, our technology is advancing at a rate almost incomprehensible. We as a people are not evolving consciously as quickly as our technology is evolving. The comparable rate of the two is disproportionate to each other.

The old fear programs under which we are still operating can be dangerous to our existence, like a child playing with an atomic bomb. This reminds me of an old Twilight Zone program. In this particular story, a little boy had the Force, and said in his childish way, "If I don't like something, I can make it go away." Most of the town and its people disappeared. The few people left in that town were terrified. Fear ruled their choices. We have the Force in each of us. For us to live, it is time for us to let go of the fears about each other, each other's religions, gods, ways of thinking and doing, whatever keeps us separate. The only thing created out of fear is destruction and death, whatever we label it, over and over, century after century, day after day.

Fear rules. It is time to change the rules.

One of the visions that was given to me was to build a healing center. I could not comprehend it. At this time, I know I am not the only person on this planet who has had the same vision. It is a part of the collective consciousness of all of us that is seeking, healing within our own centers inside of us.

From 1991, I began to have multi-dimensional experiences in multi-faceted ways. Although I tried to live that ordinary life I so desired, it was over. I actually tried to commit suicide three different times between 1991 and 1995. Each time my efforts were thwarted. I cannot express in words the pain, the confusion, and exhaustion of being here. The more I tried, the harder it got. I thought that I was supposed to do something. I tried to live my life operating under the same old, third dimensional ways of thinking and doing. It was not working. I lost my job. I tried to start another company. I even got contracts, and I simply could not pull anything together. For example, I would be sitting in a business meeting. Suddenly before my eyes I saw angelic beings, spiritual guides, departed relatives, or extra-terrestrial beings in the same room as clearly as I could see the meeting participants. I found myself having conversations with them.

The next thing I knew, everyone would be staring at me. These beings were unseen by everyone else in the room. In the middle of the meeting, for instance, someone's grandfather would appear, tell me his name, and give me a message for a particular person the room. Still in the middle of the meeting, I would describe the grandfather, give his name, and pass on the message. It would cause chaos. This was not fun for me. I found it to be uncontrollable.

I began to channel in so many ways. It hurt my business credibility to the point I lost my job. Eventually, I lost my house. Most importantly, I lost the direction of my life, of the life that I had planned for myself. These multi-dimensional experiences increased, intensified, and took over my life.

Through the many experiences, I discovered that I had a relationship with many non-physical beings that would come and go throughout the next ten years. I had no idea what was in store for me. What I came to find out is that during my visit with the twelve iridescent white beings, I had agreed to allow my body to be utilized as a vehicle for the delivery of messages. I sometimes now jokingly call myself a "spiritual receptionist."

One example of my receptionist work is when I was still living in Michigan in the "early days after my NDE". I received a "message" to look in a particular metaphysical publication, Phenomenews. As I was browsing through it, a woman's picture caught my eye. It was an advertisement for a hypnotherapist. I was "told" to telephone her. Very reluctantly, I called her, introduced myself, and said I was sorry to bother her. I told her it sounds crazy, but I have a message for her from her brother. She began to cry hysterically, and said to me, "Don't know what you are saying." In the ensuing conversation, we found ourselves very emotional. "How soon can I see you?" she asked. The following Sunday, she came to my house.

I was desperate to find a red ink pen for my visit with her. I had no clue as to why I needed a red ink pen. After she arrived, we sat and talked, and I began to do automatic writing with the red ink pen. I found myself writing a very personal message to her in this red ink. The source of the message would not sign the message. At that moment, I still did not know who was writing. In the middle of this experience, I went to get my notebook of sketchings. In this book, I had many drawings of faces, not just human faces, but also non-human faces. She looked through the book and found a picture of her brother who had died of AIDS five months prior. She was shocked.

She said, "I have a picture of him that I carry in my wallet from his funeral. She pulled it out, and showed it to me, saying, "Look, it's him." His name and photo was printed on that funeral notice, giving his full name. When she handed it to me and said, "Here, put it next to the picture you drew." At that moment, his message was signed, not with his formal name, but with his nickname that she had called him. The energy surrounding us was of unconditional love. We both cried. Then she told me that red was his favorite color. Every gift he had bought her red was the dominant color.

Another dimension to this story unfolded. She continued to look through my sketchings. Lo and behold, she found a drawing of herself, just as she looked now, but dressed in the garb of a past life, in the seventeenth century in Genoa, Italy. She said, "I always knew I lived there in those times. Thank you so much for helping me heal the pain of my brother's death. And thank you for helping me connect with a part of me that I was remembering."

Over the years, I was prompted to draw, to draw faces of people from this dimension and others who I would be meeting along my way. I drew their faces, and then I would meet them. The explanation of why I was drawing these faces came to me in a poem.

Sherry, Sherry, who
The faces she draws,
From the pencil
Comes the expressions
And the identities
Of the faces she draws.
Who are We, we
Are in the faces she draws,
Expressions in the faces
Of the thoughts that
She draws,
From the expressions
Of the We that
She draws
Comes the lessons,
And teachings from
The faces she draws,
From the lessons and
The teachings comes
The conclusions that
She draws
From the thoughts
And faces of the
We she draws,
From the different
Planes and dimensions
Of the faces of the We
She draws
Comes the teachings
From the lessons from
The faces of the We
That she draws
From the experiences
And the feelings from
The faces of the We that
She draws.
So she continues
To draw the faces
Of the We so she
Can draw from
The faces of the
We that she draws.
We love you.
The We
Together We are the
We with you and thee.

Another example of one of my drawings is of another person coming into my life is when I met Michael. In 1997, I moved to Arizona. Within about a year of moving there, I met another face that I had drawn. The most interesting about this face is that this individual is a UFO researcher and an abductee. After I met him, I would receive information about an upcoming siting. I would telephone him and relay the information. Later, he would then call me back and confirm the accuracy of my information. Interestingly, I never felt attached to the information, but I found it most extraordinary at the confirmation. For me, this was validation of my 'ET' connections.

Another example of this occurred long before I knew Michael. I had been watching a local television program during which two men were being interviewed about their experiences of having been abducted by extra-terrestrials. On the show, these men showed drawings of the beings who had abducted them. Much to my amazement, I had drawn the same beings. I contacted the television station. The two men from the show came to my house to see me. They were experiencing deep anxiety. They looked at the pictures I had drawn, and were confounded by the fact that I was not afraid of these beings.

I told them that my experiences were not fearful ones. My experienced with the extra-terrestrials had been very positive. For me, my confirmation was exciting. For them, my confirmation irritated and confused them. I had never felt threatened. I was comfortable with my experiences. However, I never told about them on public television. I only shared my experiences with trusted friends. My level of comfort, I believe, came from my near-death experience and the fall out resulting from that experience, including my own paradigm shift of consciousness. I have grown to be comfortable with both a physical reality and a non-physical reality. All was real, and all was loving. It even came to a point of I was unsure of which reality I lived in, and what was "really" real, based on my previous programming from this third dimension.

Over these past ten years, I have had experiences too numerous to put into one book. This book is not all of these experiences, but about one experience from one individual, whom I have come to refer to as a "walkabout-talkabout". Because I had agreed to be a vehicle for many individuals to utilize my physical body as a channel, I found the label 'walk-in' not entirely applicable. They do not walk in and stay in the sense of a 'walk-in' that has taken over someone's body. These individuals come with a message. They come with a message, a lesson for someone or for a group, or to give channeled healing energies to some one who requires it. I call them the Walkabout-Talkabouts.

- Sherry Anshara Quantum Energy Therapist, Medical Intuitive