Is IT Enlightenment?

The year was 1998. I had recently gone through the most traumatic crisis of my life.

Due to circumstances, I believed beyond my control, I had lost ‘everything’. I had been financially bankrupted by the actions of another person. I had lost everything I had been working toward.

Just to top it off, I had been accused and charged of an offence by police for which I was innocent. I was being hounded by reporters and television and newspaper cameras. If found guilty I could find myself jailed. I had no money to employ a lawyer.

I found myself ‘stripped bare’. In so many ways I felt bereft, cheated and alone.

As a qualified psychotherapist I was acutely aware that there was something troubling deep within myself that needed to be resolved. Something inside myself was attracting all this destructive, negative energy. I also knew I could not find it, and deal with it without outsider help.

I needed a psychotherapist more than I needed a lawyer. I found someone by recommendation from a friend, which is always the best way.

At the time I lived on a farm in the Keiwa Valley in Northeast Victoria, Australia. The psychotherapist I needed to visit was located in the outer eastern suburbs of Melbourne, in the lower foothills of the Dandenong Ranges.

So, I took the country train to the city, where I transferred to a metro train which took me to the end of the line at a place called Belgrave. From there I walked to the psychotherapist’s clinic.

It was a former house, renovated into an open plan venue suitable for group meetings and activities. A couple of smaller rooms served as one-on-one therapy rooms.

Our comfortable therapy room had a large white board one wall, and two lounges located opposite each other, each scattered with cushions.

What followed that day was the most confronting and dramatic experience of my life.

The deepest recesses of my unconscious mind revealed that I had been abused by my own grandmother as a baby. I had been so emotionally damaged by this woman, my childhood, my adulthood had never recovered.

The whole therapy process took the better part of the day. I relived the anguish and terror of a 2-year-old boy who was trapped alone with a mad old woman intent on destroying his mind. Through tears I gave him my unconditional love and found forgives for the old woman who knew no better.

Something profound happened that day! I changed in a way I could never have anticipated.

From the clinic I had to walk uphill to a village, then down a pathway to a railway station nested in a valley below. Yet, I realised I was not walking up a hill. I was floating. I was flying just above the ground.

As I gilded past people, I could hear them thinking to themselves. I could hear their incessant chatter to themselves. I felt an undeniable connectedness to everyone and everything.

I could hear other people’s drama’s playing in their minds, like television soap operas. I felt like grabbing them by the shoulders and shaking them awake. Yet I knew I had no right to interfere in their free choice.

At the railway station I purchased a ticket and made my way to the train waiting on one side of the terminus platform. Immediately, as I stepped on to the train, I felt something was horribly wrong with the train carriage.

I stepped off and walked to another carriage. Stepping on I felt the same awful feeling.

I went back to the ticket office and asked the attendant when the next train following the departure of this train was due?

She laughed as she said. “This train is going nowhere. It has broken down. So, when the next train arrives on the other side of the platform, over the public address I will ask all the passengers currently waiting in the broken train to get off that train, and move across to the other train.”

Within an hour I was in the city waiting for my country train. The railway terminal was massive. It was a suburban station and a terminal for both country and interstate trains. There were people everywhere. Some hurriedly coming and going, and hundreds of others waiting, many with suitcases and baggage.

I had not eaten since breakfast, so I decided to buy a sandwich. As I stood in a line of people queued for their turn at the sandwich counter, a clear voice in my mind told me to look carefully at a young man standing in another que who like me was also waiting for his turn at the counter. The voice said, “Look at his face and remember it. He will lose his train ticket and you will find it and return it to him.”

I took a photo of his face in my mind and stored it away. Eventually the waiting que witled down to the point where I was standing at the counter watching a uniformed lady make a sandwich for me. As I turned to walk away, I saw a train ticket left on the counter where the young man I had seen earlier would have been standing when he placed his own order.

I picked up the ticket and went in search for the face I had seen earlier. It was not easy, as there were hundreds of people milling about. I found him with a group of other young people and said, “This is your missing ticket,” and then I walked away.

Apparently, up until that moment he was unaware he had lost his ticket!

Throughout the whole experience, although I was in a crowded chaotic railway station terminus, I felt empowered. I felt a connection to all these people moving too and frow, all going about their business.

Weeks later, in the courtroom, the magistrate heard the prosecution evidence. Then he told them to stop wasting the courts time with frivolous accusations and threw their case out. He told the police that it was obvious to a blind man I had not committed an offence, and what was more, they had charged me with having broken a law that was irrelevant to the charges brought against me. The reporters sitting in the court room silently withdrew.

I knew exactly why accusations had been bought against me and why I had ended up in the courtroom. It was connected to my own child’s death in a previous lifetime, where I had been accused and subsequently killed for something I was innocent. The players in the current drama were the same souls involved in that previous drama. They were accusing me again! But this time they failed.

What was this experience? What was IT?

Is it enlightenment?

Since that time I have been working one-on-one to assist people overcome the emotional ‘weight’ of negativity, self-limiting beliefs, depression, anxiety, trauma and addiction.

I have been gifted techniques that are more effective than anything I had been taught in any of my trainings.

These are blocks we all face to our realisation that we are all enlightened.  They are life’s drama we are here to overcome.

Photo Copyright by Peter Zapfella, © 2002-22 Peter Zapfella. All Rights Reserved,

Photo of Peter taken from a television interview on YouTube.

Since that time, I have been teaching thousands of people the science behind the relationship between the logical, analytical executive conscious mind (that thinks it is the ‘boss’) and the deep unconscious mind (which controls our emotions and actions). From time-to-time I also talk about our super consciousness, our soul (which understands the BIG picture).

Today I still chop wood and fetch water, but it is with a different perception. It is with a greater understanding of the BIG picture.

I feel I understand why we are here at this time and doing the things we are doing. Everything is as it should be within the drama of life.

Through these dramas of our own making we learn about ’cause’ and ‘effect’. We learn about negative emotions (based on fear) and positive emotions (based on love). We make decisions between them and as a result attract energies to ourselves so we can learn more through ‘pain’ and ‘pleasure’. Pain is the fast way to learn. It is a great teacher.

Planet earth is a fantastic place to learn about pain. That is why we chose to be here. That is why we chose our parents and the major experiences of our lives. Though these tough lessons we eventually overcome the negativity, as we find it does not serve us.

If I can give you just one take away from all this…..

Peter Zapfella quote Image is © Copyright owned by Peter Zapfella.