In the years following my experiences around the mid-lower latitudes of Australia from 1997-1998, which allowed me to gain a greater understanding of the abilities I had integrated into my consciousness from Atlantis, I got lost in my human nature, forgetting my eternal soul. My conscious evolution of healing, understanding, and processing the traumatic programming of my childhood manifested in my relationships with people, my partners, and friendships. Spirituality still played a huge part in my everyday life, but I reeled in the egoic magnetism that drew women into my intimate life. My dalliance of confidence and authenticity reached new heights in Vancouver, 2001. Somewhere in that melee’ of a drug-fuelled, sexual interaction-laden whirlwind, I met Kathy Hobbs. She was a woman in every sense of the word, as much as I was still a boy. To me she seemed otherworldly, ethereal in her timeless beauty, she was a star whose light brightened all who it touched. Sometimes when I interacted with her my sense of awe was palatable, and my inherent weakness around beautiful women may have made for some truly awkward moments. This began to pass as we spent more time together, and she opened to me, and as I to her. Despite the lovers that shared themselves with me, and those to who I opened my heart, my reverence for Kathy expanded into my soul and I began to find the courage to acknowledge that I could give more, be more, and chose to express how deeply I cared for her.
Around two years since we had met, she had asked me to come home with her after we had been at a dance party together. I naturally agreed to do so, and that night I held her and envisaged my life with her from that moment onward. The morning after, Kathy with the authenticity and gentleness necessary to make it clear told me that she had chosen to be with someone else and that this moment we had shared was her holding space for us to share our deep affection for one another. I don’t think I loved her more at that moment than when she told me about her decision, but I had a wellspring of love that was coursing through my body in ways I didn’t want to negate, or control. It had been many years since the urge to write empowered me to do so, but that same day I went home and began to write the novel that would become Sanctum. Living in the house that I did at 2785 West 10th / MacDonald, spirituality was never far from my awareness, the house was a portal, grand central for the disembodied, spirits ventured about the property with free reign of the entire house. Due to the nature of my work (I was a personal assistant for Suzanne Castonguay, a gifted psychic) my daily interactions with spirit were off the richter, this coupled with my lack of personal boundaries. As my conscious evolution wrestled for my attention against my drug addiction. I replaced one addiction for the constructive focus that would be writing this novel, and as I wrote, the horrors of my last lifetime on Atlantis found their way into the book as I realised that this was a book about redemption through surrendering to love.
Sanctum has had many incarnations, I’ve re-written this book several times as new insights, new character developments, and a greater understanding of not only that last lifetime on Atlantis and those connected to it, but every aspect of the fantastical story to elucidate, and permeate my very being. I can see with hindsight that, knowledge without wisdom allowed for what made me human then, to give over to an absence of what had moved me to create Sanctum in the first place. Love. Perhaps it was spirit that reeled me back in at Redgate beach, knowing that the knowledge of that life would surface from the murky depths of my soul at the right time so that I could not recreate that lifetime again, or worse, allow someone else to recreate it in me.
Sanctum is my magnum opus, and Kathy and Eryn (who the characters Brody/Raephaesia and Kobe are based on) were two of the most important people I have met in my life experience. Their collective presence has helped me become the human I am today. I feel this is due to my acknowledgment of the multidimensionality of life. So many lives lived all at once, parallel universes, worlds, lives, all on the head of a pin. I have only learned about the machinations of the last part of my Atlantean lifetime due to writing Sanctum. In this book I redeem myself, using what I know for the benefit of planetary and cosmic consciousness. So now my name Pha rae us, has new meaning not only to me, but to those who have known me then, and now.
