Rise above

About little lamas and Upstairs

My father here, with my older sister. The two of them had the stronger bond, which shows when you look at these photos. My sister, quite the Daddy’s girl. So why would it be different

with me, his second child, about to be born? Why would I need a different approach? He didn’t know about Tibet, and had no way of knowing that what they had aimed for, was to link the most

simple gestures in everyday life, to fear. And especially, anything to do with the interaction between a father and son. The man that hurt me, mimicking those interactions.

My father, in this life, having managed to accomplish one thing: to teach me as his little girl that fathers do not have a sexual interest in their daughters.

I have started to suspect that he did so very deliberately.

It is hard to grow up with monsters under the bed, when the ones you remember were real. I was a very frightened child. My parents, unable to reassure me, for they did not know about Tibet,

they did not know about me, and they did not know there are also monsters that are real. They had no way of knowing either, why they found me, all too often, inconsolable.

But if Dad and Pap, as her Tibetan fathers, say it is alright, it is.

Except that this is a little Tibetan boy, holding his Tibetan daughter. It is me he is holding here.

Regular spider. That is not a normal way to hold a child. It is meant as a threat for anyone who sees this photo.

There is this photo that I now can’t find. I have asked my mother to go and look for it. Two years old, a portrait to be taken in the studio, and the safest place to be was in

his arms. Because he did know. He knew all that he needed to know. The crime was theirs. It was never that of my family. At this, or any other time. And

this is where I have someone muttering: “He really should be figuring these things out himself.” That he gets too much handed to him.

On to leaving him to do just that, for the rest of this presentation:

Nevertheless, and this with a loving grin: my father was, and to me will always remain “the villain with the fake French accent”. So I am introducing him.

Because we are not finished with him yet;). They have a tendency to want to be reborn into roughly the same position to do the same thing, yet again.

He can’t be my father again, which then leaves you to wonder: what will he come up with?

He was a proud man. To have a family, a wife and two daughters, and to be able to take them travelling, was his pride. On the right, that is him with my sister.

From before I was born. That is why I call her a Daddy’s girl. There are no photos of me where I am in any way, shape or form that relaxed around him. Except for this one photo,

taken at two years old. Leaning against his chest. One hand underneath his jacket.In a studio that is a scary place, but not scared. Observant eyes and just

protesting against the whole thing. The way two year olds do.

In most of these photos, I am looking at him. Except in this one. I can’t be me around him.

Because of the fear of being reported on. Which he kept going, at my request. Because you can’t have people talking about that little lama at school. Better to hide

among the masses. You can’t find me as a grain of sand. You can find me among little lamas being reported on. And without him, I would have been. For

which, by the way, he had to control everyone around me.

I had reason to believe they would be looking. Just to be on the safe side. I was trained in a specific way that made that a risk.

They wanted us to be easily found, if they ever did lose track of us. We were trained to stand out. Any which way. And we were trained to stand out as Tibetan. And

then the people in our environment, most of them, were trained to not mind.

Just for fun: though the chances of me leaving for a monastery to reach enlightenment would be pretty much nil.

A pause. A think, a decision made, somewhere not consciously, and: “Waste of time” and “What would I do there?”

Then another thought, while on a walk:

This mother. Does she have him from one controlling environment into another without even a whiff of freedom? Don’t mind, but you are going to get controlled over it.

Another thing to avoid. There was a reason I was born in the Netherlands.I did not want to be anywhere near the Tibetan community!

There was an uncle who went to court for him, but he may have planned it that way. It makes a point. We do seem to know what we are doing. Us tulkus.

If I had been reborn anywhere near the Tibetan community, I might have ended up back in some sort of monastery or Tibetan life. Because of the fear and need to blend in.

I wanted to blend into the Dutch society. And I mean: really blend in.

And then I also just wanted to be Dutch.

There are a lot of photos like this one. Not just of me, also of my mother, my sister and my grandmother. It seems as if he would photograph you in

any mood. It is because of him that there aren’t just the usual smiling, happy family photos that don’t really tell you anything.

It is almost as if he wanted a story told. This one. About what they did. And at the same scale.

My parents would tell me about how much I cried as a baby. How they had said that their second child could never be as bad as the first. How my father had taken up smoking again, when I came around. And my father would tell a story. How while at this camping, he would take

me and carry me around on walks, at night, so that I wouldn’t keep everyone awake. I knew I felt safe then. Maybe because as long as he was there, they wouldn’t come around.

You? All you do is threaten me with monsters.

Weight of the world on my shoulders. Even that young. First you are a leader, then you are not. But they made sure that I would never be free from

that responsibility. And they linked it to the greatest fear.

If only they looked like that.

It’s a report from 2015. They seem to like to build on previous experience. Theirs or someone else’s. These kinds of things tend to not get picked up by the mainstream

media. Which suits them. And, based on experience, they know how to make sure a report like this doesn’t end up in the mainstream media.

You study your enemy.

It’s just my sense of humour. Mao was around until 1976, when I was six years old: he is quite someone to play hide and seek with.

The rest was free to be out in the open. But not to show themselves as Tibetan. Not part of the plan. Being born into a Western society would do that.

And of course, I grew up with everyone out there. My father would mention Zalm. “Ik zal’m, gij zult hem.” It felt like a test if I would respond the right way.

This photo, taken in 1998, when he was about to become Finance Minister a second time, is just for fun. Because it seems to be taken for fun. He is showing off a little bit.

That is the thing with brainwashing. I could have sworn I was a child, when that went on. It is as if things are forcibly coded as timeless. Or more like forcibly out of context.

It is a moment, and you remember only that moment, and in that moment, you remember there have been other moments, and added to it, is a context

that is more felt than remembered. The feeling of being a child.

Which then confuses you. Or gives you a cue that you are to remember it a certain way. I didn’t feel safe growing up. I was safe, but I didn’t feel safe.

For people who are traumatised, it takes a lot of time to feel safe.

Meanwhile (obstinate): a CEO of ABN AMRO who is known to play video games in between meetings, a particular one that is more for boys: yeah, he is from our time.

And I have counselling available for you if you can’t handle that. (Fuck you.)

The test and the response that he was looking for, was to hide knowing him. So that would be a two year old. And then for me to then later on, looking back, remember

it this way. Brainwashing used as a way of telling me something.

I was not to know anyone in politics.

It’s a dictatorship. They find it useful to have monsters around. And they find it useful for you to know that. And if I had done something they would have decided to have an issue

with, I would have had to deal with the Aribert Heim’s or the Joseph Mengele’s of them. They had special ones reserved for someone with my status, is, what I am starting

to think, they threatened with. And no one around you was safe from them.

Aribert Heim would be the guy in the middle.

Though Chen Yun, one of the Eight Elders, looks as charming. They kind of look like Nazi’s, don’t they? They used forced labour, and those too old or too sick to work were forced

to die. And were selected to die. Just some short hand history. And yet, they are still only seen as Communists. There is a frustrating duplicity about them in the West.

Maybe because they only killed their own people. And Tibetans. In the 50-ties.When you could still get away with mass slaughter at that scale, unseen.

Deng Xiaoping would come into power in 1978, and made his decisions as part of the Eight Elders. Communists of the first hour. Keepers of secrets.

They explained that theirs wasn’t just any kind of a dictatorship. It was thàt kind of a dictatorship. As if, by then,

you wouldn’t have figured that out.

That’s him, to take a photo of you when you are this tired. He played his role as a regular spider, but he knew. To touch on my father

is to touch on one of my most deeply buried secrets.

Though the secret I have been guarding isn’t holy. The way I see it. It is theirs.

A four-foot-and-something tall Deng Xiaoping meeting with president Gerald Ford. This is one guy who doesn’t seem to be bothered about his height. (“What? I just notice these things.”)

Deng wanting to launch a market economy. No doubt to ensure the stability of the party.Which is handily part of their doctrine. And for which he needed the West.

Yeah, that would have been inconvenient.

It doesn’t matter if the cat is black or white, as long as it catches mice. And you can do with one more dead cat. If it is an inconvenient one. Men like

Deng make these kinds of decisions. It is kind of like the Mafia.

Smiling about the subtext and leaving it in. You being like Deng. All for making it as hard as possible for you. Searching the web, about Chinese leaders: I love when they’re called politicians.

For tulkus to emerge like that, also one in Australia that I remember, makes a point: the secret is going to come out eventually.

But it would take time for them to get used to the idea. Until then: peek-a-boo!

But for their secret to come out eventually may only be in ten, fifteen, twenty years from now. And with China gearing up to become

a super power, it would still be inconvenient.

And then there are other reasons why they would know that I would be a threat.

Would there be some thinking behind the way they present themselves? It is the way that they have a president or prime minister, or whatever they call him,

with his own first lady. And here is me with a blast from the past.

You, not his wife.

It is still old school socialism to me.

And another blast from the past. Now they wouldn’t have learned anything from the Russians. But they wanted it to remain undetected, so to get as close to the real thing

as possible. Would they be using “political monomania” here for a reason? Instead of a more regular diagnosis? It is repression. And when you want to have a choice about whether or

not to use repression, then you hide it. How you really want to treat their former elite.

You can understand the attraction. The thinking behind it. Anyone who is dissident would just get hand delivered to them. Though that is not quite what they did.

As just a slight intermission: what part of “let go of me” did you not get?

And you can cover all sorts of sins under ‘war victim’. When it is abuses the current authorities have had nothing to do with. And war victims tend to go a bit “off”, mentally.

But then, so too do those who are more spiritual by nature. It’s all very handy.

Now how to keep that in place?

They had a way to solve any succession problems. While climbing to the top, there would be a test to see if you were corruptible.

Is, how they explained, their organisation worked.

Bottom line: whoever ended up at the top could not be trusted. And another smile.

And another can of Bono-be-gone. Shake-shake!

My mother and my sister. My father’s treasure. In the car he could afford, thank you very much.

You can imagine that it isn’t all that reassuring if your family is not consciously aware that there is this Chinese dictatorship with a rat’s

nest of psychopaths that would have reason to look for you.

He gave me a nice, stable childhood. I was miserable most of the time, but that wasn’t their fault. And I will tell you something else. He handled it. All of my life. Me being me.

Not as who I was hiding. Me being me. He didn’t treat it as an inconvenience.

I was his daughter.

What we would call in the Netherlands ‘an obligatory number’.These days my hair is half long, the bangs are gone, and you couldn’t get me

into a skirt if you paid me. But the clematis in the background is about to make a re-entrance. In my garden. Because it was his. Consciously and very

deliberately. The way I have always been, with these things.

Grumble. Pissed off.

My father had unknown depths, that he took with him into the grave. There was a vulnerability there. Also a bit of posturing going on there. He was

a dreamer. He was an office man. Accomplished. As we say in the Netherlands: you could draw him in a suit. I will love having

him around again. Living his dreams. Up to no good.

Though not exactly as my father, mind you;). I’d have to admit, there is a little bit of: ‘fingers crossed, a little distance goes a long way’ there.

Now if I am right about this, and of course, I can’t be, the one he prepared me for, was you. Because it was the villainous thing to do;). Equally height challenged, more of a

stocky build. If you were to take this photo of me at eight years old, and compare it to the one one slide back, you would see the same wall paper. He would have been as old as I am now,

maybe one year younger. And he may have asked my mother to take that photo. Portrait photography would have been en vogue. They still had dreams then.

Or photography was a cover. I remember it as one of his hobbies.

My father as a regular spider would have been more for getting at my freedom, the way he was trained. I may have picked my mother because she would be a match for him and remind him that we don’t do that. Though with him, there was a bond.

I was his daughter. You? You want to cut off wings and put in a box. And it is that brutal. I am starting to think that this singing of yours is to hide

that you are not exactly Mr. Sensitivity.

“You’re the reason why-y-y-y I’m still dis-so-cia-ting,”

It had to be the most expensive equipment. *Cough*

*Cough* Zooropa. *Cough* Would I be on to something here?

That would be: the most expensive equipment of anyone in the house. You outdo your loved ones. The highest quality. The most exclusive…Anything less just wouldn’t do,

honestly…And then it is only with some things. So it draws the attention.

Why is your daughter banned from using your New York apartment? While she is in her twenties and might have shown herself able to handle it?

Or would that have been the problem? It is control over resources. And if the other person is able to handle resources, there is

no need to control them with resources, now is there?

I dare you: try and proclaim innocence on that one.

My heart will sing, when I will know that he is reborn. Do you remember? Because I remember. What it is like to lay your eyes on someone, and know that they have been reborn. My loved ones are my treasure. But my heart will sing,

mainly, because he will be reborn somewhere where it will be safe.

And you complain about being in the same category? Alright then.

I do get stressed, whenever I have to do something that is linked to my identity. And I may, at some point, even without any ‘help’ in that department, find myself

having trouble with that again. You never know. I will have a lot coming at me. But I will be handling my own finances for now, thank you.

Dryly: in the interest of world peace, and all that. I mean, you really can’t afford to lose any inches of height, now can you?

I’m sorry, but you waste time like no other. It has been a year now since my father died. I don’t want him to be reborn elsewhere. And if it were to depend

on you, that might happen. And he is not the only one I am worried about. And Peaches. With what they did to us, it needs to be somewhere special for them to feel safe.

Which is why I can’t wait for you. I have loved ones out there. I want them home. It’s Tibetan. It is what we did.

At least, it is what I will still be doing.

Arghhh!!! What do you think those monasteries were for? It is to have all of your loved ones in one place, and to have them feel safe. Where you can give them

that reassurance, because you are able to keep them safe. So I do not come with a hold button, and I haven’t been waiting. Two here.

And therefore: 44, eight, ten, twelve and four.Introducing my spokesperson:

So, I’m sorry, but (dark tones): ‘Ted’ is about to be eliminated. He needs to go.

I am one here. It is my first birthday. Up to my old tricks: Jan Peter tried to warn you.

(Obstinate:) Because I do have him around. Why would he not be? He died.

The way I have Jan Peter around, when she allows him to be, is different. Still based on what they did, but different.

And he was starting to do a pretty good job wooing a little two year old. Until he got sent off. Can’t be around me, or her,

while working. They might harm him. And then even in spirit, she doesn’t dare have him around. But then, with him using what they did, he would have

been around me physically. “Dead”, but not really dead.

What do you want from me? They were twisted. And she really is inconsolable.

Same with Michael. But then, they were also keen to even train in what would have to be your response to a loved one dying. Or to being without them. Or to losing

them before you can get to them. Even in death, to her, loved ones aren’t safe. Can you imagine, having them reborn in a Communist dictatorship? Or

anywhere else, with what they did? As who they are? And Karma!

They would have trained something in about it. For damned sure. Although, after four years of writing about this, and counting, you can’t seem to be.

Yet, I can’t think or talk about either one of them without crying. And that emotion is very real. And then knowing about what they did

and what they used: it would have been more effective in their view if, underneath, they really are your loved ones. More reliable.

Which is what they wanted. But you don’t want to hear that. Rebelling, through me: she can stay at the surface. They had her able to. And then she can go anywhere.

If there is a process that is theirs, and you are not supposed to be Tibetan, and you are not supposed to have been brainwashed, then any information that is

to do with this process has to come from another source: Upstairs. Hence “guidance from above” which isn’t really guidance, it is me. Some of it is still going on in the form

of dissociation. There is information about this process that I don’t have access to.

The difference is that I know it is me. And the nature of this information is changing. More and more, it is starting to be replaced with something else: experience.

They were keen to have certain information on my conscious mind, even if it is in code. Ali was in ‘Upstairs’ as someone who can be got at. Message decoded.

It is something to do with me writing to you about her. Same thing with Billy. Michael was in ‘Upstairs’ because he would have been alive, back then.

Jan Peter wasn’t, when he was alive, because he was safe then.

But even with that kind of safe, he would still have been at risk. To their rules.

Coolly: I am not as impressed by something like that, as you think I am. At any level. I can very easily do without it. As for this writing to you: they did fake spiritual.

You de-traumatise. You realise you no longer need to do that.

That part is not a 100% complete, but I am getting there. Or have you seen me “picking up on your responses”? To something I had written to you? That’s past tense,

and this, by my count, since well over two years ago. It was the first to go.

Obstinate: Bob was never in ‘Upstairs’ and never would be. As her spokesperson: when meeting him for the first time, it would be as someone you don’t know,

but with whom you find yourself having a rapport. That is all she wants.

And oh, you are not popular. Done asking you for anything. Plotting: and I can get him for her, without you.

You were never in ‘Upstairs’ and you never will be. You got featured briefly, but that was more of an ‘obligatory number’. It is also about “information”, knowledge that you have, which you are only allowed to access as if from a different source. And

then later, you are to look back on it, and it will be the key to understanding something. About what they did. A bit of confirmation. Same with Billy.

They used processes. They trained them in. And if and when it seems as if I am being controlled, that would be because this is their process

and how they designed it to be: cruel, toxic and maddening.And to a certain extent, they made that necessary.

But then you would know about that. Because you have been exploiting one of them.This one is finally past tense and it took me forever. It’s not for lack of trying.

The disk profile was an instruction. To our tulkus, to be taken into their next life. By my estimation: a double one. Something similar to the Disk was used by them. So to

develop it, in this life, is one. And then to have it taught in the organisation I was working with at the time, was another.

There were those in the whole of that organisation who needed it. But again: you don’t want to hear that. That I am anything but alone.

By the way, with the damage you did over ‘Upstairs’ and resources: hell will freeze over before I will ever accept a dime from you. Or advice.

Or help. And again: I am not alone. I have never had any problem finding help with what I do. And I will again. You think the Platform

happened overnight? And that it just happened?

But it seems we have a mutual problem.

Information as if coming from a different source: our tulkus. And then a little while later: they co-ordinated things. Our tulkus, as in: from different monasteries.

She is not always sure about these things. Because you force her to be. And then, brilliantly, you have managed to threaten her over what she has finally

come to feel safe enough to be sure about. She is Tibetan.

You want a warning? About how to deal with her? Considering she is supposed to be dangerous and all that?

Here you go: vindictive when forced.

Still want that part of ‘Upstairs’ covered?

Which means that you are either Tibetan, or you are a cruel, sick son-of-a-bitch against which my father pales in comparison. Because he was never cruel,

except for the garden variety. As a matter of fact: my father couldn’t hold a candle to your cruelty. And yet, never once, have I held your behaviour against you.

As trained in. Hasn’t your conscience been bothering you? Or else, where does me being dangerous come from?

They made cruelty necessary. With him, it was at least part protection. I’m not so sure about you. Teacher mode: with the suggestion to look back at slide 5.

A lot of what you so nicely dubbed an obsession, this second time, has been me trying to figure out why I got dragged off to you the first time. And since about last November,

even before, it has been about not getting dragged off to you a third time. Because you know, your life improves and you want to keep that. I have inner children. They tend to do

that. Drag me off to you. The two questions therefore are: what is it they did and for what purpose, and why do these children want to?

Trust me, I will get there. And what do you know, I have an answer to that first one.

This picking up on your responses to what I have written to you was to keep me in place, and heading in your direction. It is designed mainly as a distraction. It was also to get me to imagine

relating to you, and to sell to me that that might be nice. But even then, it is mainly through inner children. And I am starting to wonder whether that kind of thing is meant for you to be able to pick up on my responses. Because my response to ‘Teacher mode’ would be that I don’t want

you coming into my life in any kind of role. Or at all. And that would then be information for you. As for if you had anything to teach me: of late, every word that

comes out of your mouth, or even in writing, is obnoxious to me.

I barely made it through your TED talk. Meanwhile…

A lot about this process has kept uncertainty going for me, about whether you will be in my life or not. And now with you forcing me, and with it, it seems, where

you are concerned, certain that you will be in my life: I do not have a suicidal bone in my body, and I have the Platform to work on, but that prospect is enough to have

you looking for a noose and the nearest tree. Kill me, kill me now.

I’m guessing you being unpopular was a bit of an understatement.

You never really did get my sense of humour, did you? Supposedly? If you are Tibetan, then same as with me, there is this little one, and I would

never leave him alone, isolated and scared. And coming to get him was a promise, the way that I did. So he gets a chance to become involved.

But even for him, I am not up for grabs. And you need to give me some space here. As you can tell, I am not quite ready for the adult variety.

What is there to love? About a controlling-you-at-a-distance, toxic asshole?

And this is old news.

I’m stuck with you, she says sadly. Until I can sort this out.

Has it ever occurred to you that to first lock her in and then come into her life is the wrong order of things? She has only had people in her life

where she has felt free about whether or not to still relate to them in the future. It has been her way of life. They tortured it in, to want that kind

of freedom. About relating. They tortured everything in.I even feel that way with family. It is not normal.

There is no bond for you to count or rely on. This little one, maybe, but if you are not Tibetan? Which I am more than happy to consider.

You want to sashay into my life as Bono? As someone to work with, that I can’t get away from? Kill me, kill me now.

And why should you be the norm of anything? How she responds to you? Coolly: you would need help, when approaching someone like Ban-Ki-Moon, but that will be

available. When it is time. It is a concept. It will be developed. And it will travel.

Bob might be able to convince her. That if she stopped relating to him in the future, that would hurt him. He would have to do so very gently.

And he would have to be sincere. It has been her way of life.

Now Bob would get that. That she doesn’t have to.

Bob wouldn’t need to come into my life in any kind of role. The way I understand it, you do. You were trained differently. So you get offered inner children. Until

it is nau-se-ating. And with Bob, it would just be: Hi.

Sourly: hence the 150 pounds. And the schlepping. And the past four years.

It is a process and it is designed to draw you back in. And then you get the previous slides. It doesn’t mean that I don’t have my own opinion about it. About you. And I can take it or leave it. I have reached the point where I can now make a start. And to continue with this process has become an option.

I will give you a dubious compliment. You have shown yourself quite astute when it comes to picking little clues and hints. There is one in this photo.

I remember what Bob is like. As me. I have been hiding that from myself.I still won’t ask you for him, and it will still not be on your terms.

And I won’t need a process to get him. Or you.

But I trust him. And he would have influence on me. About you, most likely, she says sourly. Here is the punch line: like that isn’t a subject I’m sick of.

Not about to give an inch on the subject matter of whether or not she knows you:

I already have enough reason to take out a restraining order against you. All that is needed is a lawyer and a shrink who will play ball, and it would be within

two to three months. I can stop at: “And he used my mother.”

It puts a lot of pressure on Richard. This restraining order is to stop you from interfering with any work. It puts a cordon around it. You are not to come anywhere near.

It isn’t who you are, or what you do that counts, it is how you treat me. And in a professional, impersonal sense, about what you would be able to do for

the Platform: ask the average person in the street and they will agree with me: you have been more trouble than you are worth.

You wanted a non-Tibetan perspective? The kind you have been forcing on me? There you go. I have been keeping one going all along.

As for the personal side, in so far that we have developed a relationship, if you can even call it that: with what I have developed, I may very well end up working with a few people who know you. Either very well, or they have met you here and there. It would get quite

quickly to where there are contacts, once removed, me with my feeble mind. Don’t worry, it won’t have me come to find you. Here is why.

The stories you and your band members tell, about your childhoods: there is a bit of marketing in there. It is off-putting. And undoubtedly: you.

One part of this process is that if I were to find something like the Platform, I was to take it to you. One person. And that could have been anyone. It could have

been the baker in the street. And then train in anything about him. That he is the love of your life. And that is to sabotage it. Make sure it takes a long time. That it doesn’t

even happen. They were the original ones who wanted us to be neither seen nor heard. As Bono, you are like that baker to me. Nothing about you,

or your contacts or your influence is attractive to me, I’m sorry.

It is the ‘love of my life’, ‘twin’, that’s the problem. By the way: I will have my own husband.

They used torture. And once they have been at it long enough, you are no longer that discerning. I have this little one who seems to think she knows you.

That there is this previous relationship there. I can get to the bottom of it, or I can suppress it and hope it will hold.

And it would, for, say, six months to a year, easily. An option coming up.

And a little Tibetan girl, holding her holy dog. A golden coloured cocker spaniel. Popular breed at the time, which meant that there wouldn’t have been too many questions.

Something she knew - nose in the air - she could get away with. Her holy dog, whom she would have recognised from Tibet, and whom she dared to give

a holy name. And then you abbreviate it. Alexander, Lex, for short.

That is her with my sister.

A very determined little dog, who went on to become my sister’s Lisette’s cat Sjim (she will only have cats? I’ll become a cat) and who didn’t wait all that long

after he died as Sjim, to put in his little request.

Waiting for me in Roger’s litter - a little miniature pinscher called Pacey. We want to be active, and spend a lot of time running. His name, chosen to reflect that

as a promise. And we want to be my holy dog, and so it was that Roger’s litter was born on Pesach. Pace meaning Pesach. And peace.

As for Roger: I am easy enough to recognise if you have been waiting for me.

Bono-spider.

Zebra sea spider.

One of the methods they used was to rape you while choking you, to the point where your body would experience mortal fear. Which is the kind of fear that quickly

becomes uncontrollable, taking over your body, making it hard for you to think, unless suppressed very quickly, at the very beginning. It forces you to dissociate,

since you are in situations where you need to be able to function. The only way to keep yourself safe is with trained in thoughts.

Letting this fear rise to the surface would mean rape. And they had ways to trigger it.

Red and yellow curtains, hanging side by side. It is the way you look at and straight through them.

You dissociate.

I would spend a lot of time looking at these curtains. And at this wind chime. And maybe have a few conscious thoughts about them. Of the dissociating kind.

Finally looked it up, and wind chimes are often hung at the entrances of Tibetan monasteries. This one is hanging by the window, and has been hung by me outside of the window, when opened.

Another would be hanging next to the front door, and yet another, by another window.These wind chimes outside of these monasteries are known to make a lot of noise. The sound of the divine voice. Somewhere behind that wall, there is a neighbour

whose wind chimes have been making just such a racket.

These are early morning photos.

Another thing that took years before I would finally look it up.A conch shell, that I remember having uncomfortable conscious thoughts about.

Not sure why I had bought it. Wanting to get rid of it. Not getting around to doing so.And with it starting to feel right, as soon as I had put it in my bookcase this way.

Tibet is in the mountains, and nowhere near the sea. Who would have known that a shell would play a role in their religious ceremonies?

It gets boring. Do I have reason to believe that I may have a link there with Tibet?The same prayer beads are in my linen closet, where their regular place

is on top of a stack of towels. Cherry and plum coloured ones.

There is something with the way that this wind chime is hanging by the window, along with these prayer beads being kept where they are. Ready for use.

I miss him.

If you have dogs and you are painting your house, butter is a good way to get it out of their coats.

And when they are gone is a good time to try again.

From at the very beginning of moving into this apartment: golden coloured Christmas lights that I remember consciously were important to buy, because you might not come across

golden coloured ones again. As well as reminding myself that it was just nice to have, adding atmosphere to the home and just me. While I have since realised

that these Christmas lights represent candlelight which is holy.

This is my one remaining dog. She is slightly better at avoiding freshly painted doorframes.

Golden coloured Christmas lights, with a passion flower trailing along them, and looking straight through it being a passion flower, and holy. While having a view

of it from the couch. Growing passion flowers from seeds, and looking straight through them, during a Bono-free period of not working on the Platform.

It is not just that there are Tibetan objects to be found in my home, it is that this way of blocking it out is just not normal.

And therefore past tense.

I do Bono-free periods, yes.It can be very relaxing.

Giving into some temptation here. He’s been pissing me off.

A memory emerging. It was in different rooms. Ones in which you could be watched. Different rooms,

same building, within each other’s proximity.

He is wearing a tell here, by the way.

By the time they start on your third finger, you are no longer that attached to your mental health. Really, you are not. You can even see the point of it.

You will have entire conversations with “Freddy”. And “Freddy” isn’t very nice to you.

And then “Freddy” is someone you know, because that is a symptom of schizophrenia.

I am more interested in why they did it, personally.

It has to be subconscious. And then they torture youbecause it isn’t subconscious enough.

One lifetime later you are left explaining.That there are monsters that are real.

Ones you would no longer recognise as human.

I don’t know. How can you forgive when there is no understanding?There is no hatred. They may have been given a chance at another life.

Which is what I would want for them. Though not to hurt others the same.

I’d like to think that what they did was caused by suffering in a previous life. It usually is. That there may have been enough humanity left there.

There may have been already some justice there that in developing this weapon that was meant to cause

such unseen destruction, they had to study love. And learn that they could only harness it.

There may have been Love in there.To guide them towards such a weapon.

And justice for some.One last chance.

But there is a mystery there.

Well, something that you would not easily understand at first sight.

There are a lot of photos of me at this age with this faraway look in my eyes. Which makes me wonder whether it is tell, that something was triggered

that would have been first trained in by these monsters.

I don’t relate.

There is a reason I went to this concert. First one and only one in years. I wanted something.

Not that I realised at the time.

Culprit. It was time to go get him.

That’s her sister there in the background. And mine.She does take care of the ones she loves.

Would I go to this concert, as just me? I don’t think so. What would I want there? So I guess I no longer want something. In the previous slide, he had been doing something he shouldn’t. Talk to politicians. Asking them for resources. With a grin: and I happened

to have just the thing to stop him from doing that. Not that I let myself be consciously aware that that is why I went to this concert – took an interest in him.

He was trying to get them to do something beautiful. That is what I responded to. Meanwhile, the penny having dropped here: “Seriously? What a drama queen.”

It’s hard to love him, sometimes.

This would be another little one (and me):

He isn’t on tour, as far as I am concerned. You can’t be on tour if you don’t exist, now, can you?

The whole thing is quite fluid. There is a tendency to block out the undesirable. And then I agree with her. On a different note: I don’t like the artwork,

the layout, … And that is her and me as well. Or me and her.

I just read a previous slide as ‘a Bono-free period of working on the Platform.’

Oops. And found myself considering that that is indeed an option. With this calm, peaceful and relaxed feeling to it.

Bono-free, Bono-free, free, Bono-free…

I couldn’t resist this one:

He has some interesting ideas about freedom!

Sometimes I don’t agree and then I have a little fun and narrate it.

Sometimes I don’t want to give away what I really think and mostof all, how I really feel about something. Because it is private.

Or I want to sit on the fence about it.

There is something to this photo. Before it gets misinterpreted. It’s a calm sea, but it has a feeling of action. Nice beach as well.

I know a girl, who is like the seaI watch her changing, everyday for me,

oh yeah. Oh-wo-wo-ho-ho…

No line on the horizon, no line…

It was another one of these things that had to be subconscious. You could see it as destroying love, but it is really a way to harness it. It is another way to force you to dissociate. You have to look at someone you know and love,

and see and think of him as a stranger. And that has to be subconscious enough. With no knowledge of the relationship you had

with him before. That you have access to.

Never mentioned in writing. And carefully, not on my conscious mind. I have a way of ignoring careful interest, privately taken.

I was always, also on my way to Richard.

Which is why some of you haven’t got what I have been doing on LinkedIn. Where it is safe to have a relationship with me. A Tibetan one. Communicating with me silently, so that it doesn’t get into writing. One, that he wants to work with Mansukh, on peace. Another, that she wants to work in IT. Recently, someone trying to get my attention by

adding two of my connections as his, at the same time. And I would have something for him. And there is someone there, probably more than one, who would instantly

accept my lunch invitation. A banker, someone I like and trust. And they may now have a resource there that they have been needing to step in: me.

I love you, but I do have a sense of self-preservation.

LinkedIn is not the only time and place that I will find them communicating with me this way. To receive what looked like a formal letter

from the tax offices, standard one, but with a little line in there. If I was alright? Because I was not supposed to fill in a zero tax return? Sweet and touching. Dropping the act of me being a stranger. While what they did with me, they

did with everyone, so consciously I would have been thought of this way. How can it be that a tax inspector turns out to be from our time?

Easy. I.will.be.in.Gouda. And then you let karma do the rest.

This tax inspector is loved, because he used to work for me. For those I wanted around me, I never made any secret where I am.

Calestous. There is a little one who spent a lot of time, making up her mind about him. Firmly so.

I know Calestous is Tibetan. The way he asked me about which organisation is hard to fake. And if he did, he’d deserve to have horns and a tail growing. He may have. I still

think he is Tibetan. So now I know there is no point getting in touch with AGRA. But then, with this one being such a control freak, there wouldn’t have been.

To shine a spotlight on what I am doing tends to piss me off. So for himto have any influence on my decision making is for later.

Then for the bad news: Adrian was never going to have any influence. I am too pissed off, here.

“Blogging for the great good.” He doesn’t look happy. Dryly: a little bit of being allowed to be Tibetan should do it.

But they couldn’t have you trust that it is love, that has them holding on to this information of this former relationship there.

To force dissociation, you would also need to hold on to this knowledge. Would they have known that you would hold on to it anyway?

Michael did. And there is a little one who pretty much goes through the roof whenever I play that song.

With what we did, we ended up adding back our own loving reasons.

I would catch you(Just couldn't let you go)I'd catch you as you fall(Just couldn't let it go)

I would catch you(Just couldn't let you go)

I'd catch you if I heard your call

But you tore a hole in spaceLike a dark star falls from grace

You burn across the skyAnd I would find you wings to fly

And I would catch youI would catch your fall

I just wanna slide away and come alive againI just wanna slide away and come alive againI will see that love again and find a life againI just wanna slide away and come alive again

Kermit would be appropriate here. You have been running the show. You think.Three regular spiders, each of them in what would be to you just the right positions.

Would I have known you would see it as an opportunity?

They trained him to be one of the bad guys. That part, not his fault.

However. The Muppet Show, and Miss Piggy who for a little eight year old growing up was her favourite character. This thing with her handbag,

whenever someone (in her view) had it coming. Hi-ya-gah!

(Pissed off:) Let’s put this in terms you will understand: Miss Piggy didn’t kill Kermit with that, now did she?

And no, I am not her. Think of me more like Thatcher – equally fierce with a handbag. A young Thatcher. And with some vulnerabilities. Of

the usually well-hidden kind. Darkly: that you should be aware of.As it is not to hinder me in accomplishing anything.

Almost getting political there. Oops. We move on.

Oehh, islands. Deserted ones, with wi-fi. You turn your laptop off and there is pure bliss.

She doesn’t like relationships, they’re stressful. Distance, anyone?

She’s had me looking for one. I am not to be serious about it, of course. Yet. Although, when it is within the realm of possibilities… Where it is that she’s had me looking…

Meet the little director. It would be a mistake to base what you can and cannot do on the one who is the regular writer.

Translation: you would find me on one. Adiòs.

Grace

“The objectives of such a plan of democide include the disintegration of the political and social institutions of culture, language, national feelings,

religion, and the economic existence of national groups; the destruction of the personal security, liberty, health, dignity; and even

the lives of the individuals belonging to such groups.”

Red and yellow curtains, hanging side by side.

It went all the way up.The Great Helmsman. Another Hitler.

I don’t know where Hitler has been reborn, but where he is, he is loved. He may have been told that

he speeded up everyone’s learning. And through that, in the end, caused less suffering.

It isn’t always so clear cut.

Hitler, Stalin, Mao.

Was there any reason that they caused such great destruction? Or was it just the combination of new technologies? Hitler, and his Holocaust. 1822,

the first train, and the development of a rail network. A hundred years later and that is what it is used for. Rail network, population growth, availability of young men.

Stalin and his deportations. And a famine. And a purge. Already in the 1930’s. Where Mao may have got his inspiration from, twenty years later.

They aimed to cause destruction at that scale, what with these advances available. You can chalk that up to ambition. And you could call it that day’s mindset.

We go for a bit of sarcasm.

One of these things is not like the others. / One of these things just doesn’t belong. /Can you tell me which thing is not like the others / By the time I finish this song?

The caption with this one: ‘Sesame Street recognises Palestine.’ Let’s go political for a minute: I think they should have their own state.

He was deliberate. And may have wanted to improve on the other two as well. - “He could never have known about the famine.”

Really? He wouldn’t have studied Stalin?

They had a lot of fun training in smoking. In this life,I never took it up, but I got close enough.

Which was, interestingly, also in my twenties.

Still pissed off, here.

Sounds familiar?

GREAT PLAN FOR THE TRANSFORMATION OF NATURE

Fourth largest inland lake in the world. At one time.

Would the Aral sea be missed, you think?

Still, the psychology is the same. The mistake is the same. There you are, making the mistake of wanting to kill, destroy,

completely take out the enemy, which is a mental exercise, any enemy will do, and you are able to kill 6 million.

That doesn’t seem just to me. That seems like the kind of thing that should come with an explanation and an apology.

Did it happen at a scale? Everyone learning together? And was the scale such that it is still being taught in classes? Where the little ones who are being taught about

it may have played their own not-so-noble role in it in their previous lives? Are born into families that are still affected by it? And find themselves members of a society that still needs

to come to terms with it? So it speeded up everyone’s learning. The way I imagine it, these are conversations between you and the Creator in between lives. And: why did you

pick me for that? Would then be where the apology comes in.

We may be hard-wired for genocide. We are part of nature. If so, you can study the conditions under which it occurs and manage that.

THE GREAT LEAP FORWARD

Or create them.

He would never do such a thing as organise a genocide. Having learned from the others. He did organise purges, but

a little poison into a glass is easily slipped, so I do hold the rest of the Communist party responsible.

Oops. That sounded pissed off.

Don’t look at me like that. You take them out before they can do any more damage. And better luck in your next life.

I’m sure it will be a nice one. Because I would want you to have one. Otherwise, no hard feelings.

Tell them it is a new agricultural policy and you can lead them like a lamb to the slaughter. Because they know it is a bad idea,

but at this point, they might still survive.

Whatever Mao aimed to get away with, sadly, he got away with. This only came out after a Hong Kong based historian got to delve into official Communist Party archives.

But the world would still agree that it was a famine. It could never be deliberate.

On a different note: this presentation took a turn, didn’t it?

But on the whole, democides, where you leave these groups alive, at least, some members of these groups, are far more convenient. If left damaged

enough. And part of a different strategy? A complementary one. When it has been calculated that you can’t do without them.

A teacher today will think twice before challenging the Communist Party, what with what happened before. Mao had a thing about the educated.

It is a very special thing, to be raised by your father, to then have him be reborn, as a child for you to raise. But nowadays, a problem there;). As far as this little four year old

is concerned, they are her sons. Adult sons, and she is a child, but, they’re her sons. Having not been able to grow up with them in this life, she doesn’t see them

as her fathers. And then as Upstairs would put it: we don’t do fathers.

Back in exile, there were just a few high lamas still around, my status still quite high, as in couldn’t be missed? There was a real concern of not wanting

to be found. Fortunately, the Tibetans believe that a woman could never be a bodhisattva. Problem solved. And then for good measure:

let’s get reborn in the flattest country you can find.

And then your parents take you on holidays. To the mountains. In the snow.

To link so much fear to any interaction between father and son is of no use if not also training in to look for father figures. And to force father-son relationships.

Michael wasn’t. And Richard and Bob are her own choice. Made in this life.

Richard is a not sure, tentative, not in the beginning, maybe. Bob is a not in the beginning, but maybe with a former inner child relationship there. From afterwards. There seems to

be an ease with him. Also, importantly: with neither one of them, moving in is involved.

I am not sure if Michael is ‘in Upstairs’ as it has been previously referred to.Upstairs is largely your own mind, but it is ‘spiritually facilitated’. In this life.

If so, in the Secret Contingent presentation, ‘JR’ is him. For now, she is not telling. They linked fear to any interaction between father-and-son, but especially

to our father-and-son interactions. This show of respect is trained in.

Every time I look at this photo, what you notice is this satisfied look on Michael’s face. Saying he managed it. A lot of what we did, we did to heal each other.

We have an awareness of inner children. Whatever would have been given as a reason to give him this kiss, he wouldn’t have bought it.

At the time that these photos were taken, had you asked me why I was wearing an orange shirt, I would have looked at you, puzzled, and would have found myself coming

up with some seemingly innocent sounding answer. While in fact, it was an inner child who had picked it out in the morning to wear. Orange is a holy colour. Three

squares on the shirt, a holy number. Gold bracelet on my right wrist, Tibetan beaded bracelet on the left.

Photo on the right, holiday in France, a favourite outfit. Because it is a leather skirt? But head to toe in chestnut brown, another holy colour.

The little eight year old on the left has a quiet side. The one on the right does not yet want to be introduced. These photos illustrate

something. It can be quite hard to tell these ones apart.

There are still decisions that are mine alone to make. Like moving in. But in doing so, I tend to put them first.

They’re cute, but you don’t want to be their prey.

Wannabe spider

Because I won’t write to him.Or take anything to him that I have created.

Or put his name to something I created.Wolf spider if I did.

Klaas: not one.

As long as it is professional, I can take anything to him and he won’t make an issue out of me being Tibetan.

For some reason it has to be just the right photo with him. Finally settled on this one.

And Gerard may have an easier time getting involved, without having several spiders breathing down his neck. Spiders, both the regular ones, and

these special ones, have an issue with my identity. And will keep this issue going. The regular ones: at all times. These special ones: if you let them.

That would be my identity and yours, but mine is out there.

Hoping I am picking the right photos here. Because I am introducing them.

Interestingly, none of these spiders has a web, unless others create one for them. Often relying on regular spiders for that.

The kind of control they are going for is poisonous. The web comes in when you don’t like the experience.

Which means that with no more web, the wolf spider will come running after you.

Two slides back, the photo of Klaas that I settled on, was titled Jan-Kees-de-Jager-4-.jpg when I found it on the internet. And Klaas,

I hope, would have a sense of humour with him.

There is something about the wolf spider. It is rare.Which means that I may have had some help coming across him.

With Bono, I was already screwed. With Jan Peter, it seemed by design.With Jan Kees, someone may have got him in just the right position.

I may have done my time with spiders.

But I wouldn’t have wanted to miss out on my time with Jan Peter. Even in the middle, it was worth it. And I learned a lot from him. A lot of it felt like

an attack on my identity, but wasn’t. He gave me my identity back. I am now more me because of him. He was absolutely insistent about it. And if best friends fight,

and argue, and are tough on each other, then he was my best friend.

And did we argue. Which has me wondering. I don’t know enough about him as a conscious adult. Whether he would have had a sense of humour about it.

There is a hint in his eyes that he might have had.

It is the photo he had on his Skype profile. Which connection, pop up screens you can turn on or off, was sometimes used by a little one to communicate with me.

Usually, not something good. Control! To say that I learned a lot from him is an understatement. You could tell that he spent a lot of time thinking about it.

Even before. A tulku, with knowledge brought with him into this life.

There was a selflessness to it. He was beautiful. He cared. He dared to show that with me. And he had very strong opinions. He was also often right.

He was my best friend. He was not a stranger.

I am starting to wonder about Mansukh a little bit. Whether there is a fourth one to come across;).

If you will forgive me: . And at the same time: it has been taking too long to get to him. Can we get a move on it, now, please? They happen to be my loved ones, you know?

Come on. Come have an issue with my identity. Now that you are outnumbered.

Mansukh they trained in with me as the fall back. Is what I have concluded, so far. In case anything were to happen to Bono. Which explains why I have always

said he is more for Ali. Different species, because they trained each of them differently, especially making them different in appearance, to make it harder to recognise them.

He does have a web. Reason why he has been quiet. Though, when you look at these photos, he seems to spend a lot of time running around.

He almost looks like a ladybird here, doesn’t he?

Now, see what you can make of that. (With a smile: it couldn’t possibly be that he is into religion to…, to…, to attract…? Answer: it’s them, so, yes it is.)

He loves his cars. And is on his way to KPN, where he will be their CFO. And in just the right position, to try and do the same thing, later on. But I won’t come to find

you at KPN, either. And if I did, it isn’t going to be me. I will have a few people around me who will be shielding me. And a new policy: access to me isn’t always guaranteed.

Plot foiled. I am supposed to find him with something I have only half created.Something new. Something for the telecommunications industry.

For which he knows I would have a beginning.

And then write to him. But it wasn’t for lack of his personal email address that I didn’t write to him at ISM. Except, he doesn’t know that. So it could still work. It would

take a lot of digging in my mailbox. But if I did, would I find that at some point, he received that one Dutch translation of the Secret Contingent, where I mentioned Peter Bakker having access

to his organisation, TNT, as a resource, when working with the WFP? Just that one remark, that never made it into another translation? Because KPN, with an internet based Platform,

would come in just as handy? However: I am really only interested in those who share my dreams: he wouldn’t let me work on a famine. I was interested in Karel.

I am guessing here that I am supposed to take him moving to KPN to be in the right position at the right time as a gesture of good faith. Proof that he cares. So surely I’ll write to him.

I have learned to dig through my mailbox and anything I have written. The way we respond to anything in writing is not quite normal. I am up to 3532 emails

in my mailbox. So lately I just give up. He might have. I haven’t checked. If not, he will have picked it up from somewhere else. In writing.

There is something about my to remain anonymous domain host provider. Where I had an issue with my mailbox, it needing to be restored, and it was seen that there

were these emails sent to Bono. I haven’t had a bill from them in two years. When pointing this out, it was an “administrative error”,

which one year on, still hasn’t been fixed.

There is no enthusiasm for doing something with telecommunications. It is not my industry.

Neelie is more likely to want to take on a role there. And perhaps Gerard would have an interest there as well.

Salva here is wearing a tell. And he is wearing it the way the little ones around him would like to see him wear it: consistently and when in public view.

I will be working on a famine. Famine prevention. And you can have influence or no control.

I will let you know here and there that I am working on it and what I am working on. Because that is just my sense of humour. And you may

find them insisting that you support me with it. They know you. They know that even with a sixty hour workweek, you make time for a private life. And it would take only a few

hours. There will be poking, and prodding, until you have Jan Kees’ sized dents in the ceiling. And then they will poke and prod some more.

They isolated you. The way you were trained was supposed to be kept a secret. The secret is out, don’t you think? Come on, let’s find out how you were trained

and see if we can undo it. And you just might be able to put your name to something I created. On my terms, and screw the status quo.

And what do you know? Herman here still gets to James Bond-it.

And Richard might like him.

It will be a banking initiative. For, say, the first six months. With no need or reason to take it to the Ministry of Finance. Not a pressing one. There may be no one there

who has enough influence on how I develop the Platform. They can try to throw a few civil servants at me. But they may soon find that that wouldn’t work.

But do I detect a bit of love for me as well? If you were to have me writing to you, I wouldn’t be very happy. And it has already been going on for such a long time. And then

for me, on Twitter, to be hurting so much over Jan Peter. What you have been following since April. With Jan Peter, it was the zebra sea spider. With you, it was on July 11th, the wolf spider, first seen in 124 years. Just when I was starting to work on a few slides that would be about you.

Still a bit menacing. First time in 124 years. Just when you are about to come into action. In the days after, still putting the pieces together. Friday, when I first uploaded these

slides. And the Monday after, the news that you had taken this job at KPN.

Did you want it to be gentle? In spite of how you were trained? Because it was.

And then I thoroughly suspect:not one.

Chances are: he gets me.

And Richard, almost certainly:not one either.

Because he has been out there. Chances are pretty good that he gets me as well.

There is something about Klaas. Something you pick up when you look at his portrait photos. The ones he posed for. There is an ease there. He doesn’t

have a problem drawing attention to himself. When it is called for.

He is also known to be quite a gentle man.

One is blessed to have a Bono-spider in his life, and is now a supporter of ONE. The other seems to feel free to stick his nose into anything. They both seem comfortable drawing attention to themselves. Bob is a regular feature in the UK tabloids, unwanted,

maybe, but he could have moved. Richard is on Twitter. They may want me to handle it the way they would. But the others don’t want you to be either

seen or heard, and I cannot begin to tell you how old that gets.

Bob didn’t have a problem putting himself out there. Richard put himself out there. For me to have put myself out there, may have been followed by them

with some sympathy. Especially now that it is more and more me, and smart. They both know what I am working on. It is something they would do.

I’d say that Richard would say it is something that is required.

He only seeks publicity for as much as is needed for his singing career. And a little bit as an activist. You hardly see him on Twitter. And when in Ireland,

he lives a very quiet life, which before I thought was Ali’s doing. You can go months without hearing anything about him. Jubilee 2000 was mostly behind the scenes.

A few photo-ops here and there is not ‘putting yourself out there’.

This is where, sadly, I put the knife in a bit. It is trained in to turn to him when looking for support. He isn’t going to be. Bob and Richard are more likely to be able to support me.

Have a think about it. And a Google. Does Ali get to be a public figure? Or draw a lot of attention to herself? Spiders, both the regular ones and this particular

one, have an issue with you doing anything beautiful and visible. What EDUN designs is high fashion. Not that beautiful. And not, it seems, what she had

first had in mind. And then look at where her apparel is sold. Is it visible? Or would you call it niche marketing? I rest my case.

Here is the kicker. If, in order to succeed, she would have had to do something that would have made her very visible, then she just doesn’t get to succeed.

Exhibit B.

That one got firmly sabotaged. And Olli may want to do something beautiful and visible. An inkling here: that

that is why it got firmly sabotaged. With a passion.

Let’s do a check: does he have a problem calling attention to himself?

-“But Bob got to do Live 8!”

- “Only because he had already done Live Aid and he still would have had an ulcer about it.”

And sneakingly, if you were to look into it, Live 8 would have been a bit less beautiful than Live Aid. That would have just been his advice, mind you. And his scheming.

The relationship as they designed it between a special spider and , well, someone like me, is for the first to act as a shield against the outside world.

Which is exactly what I originally sought him out for.

Here is the problem: you don’t start out as Rain Man. And that has to remain unnoticed.

Sometimes I just like having a photo where they are in the thick of things.He has left ABN AMRO, but so far, he doesn’t look like the retiring type. And

ABN AMRO may want him back for a project. He still has his reputation there. A nicely updated LinkedIn profile, and I am impressed at his involvement

with the World Bank. Does it indicate that he has been interested?

His other position is a good fit as well.

It also seems trained in to want to include our special spiders. But for Gerard to no longer be with ABN AMRO had me have a think about it, and I could do without

him. And does he in his own quiet banking way draw a lot of attention to himself? That he is comfortable with? All of that experience is attractive though. Former head of the EPC when you have been wanting to create a Single Payments Area. Someone who can sit down with you and condense all of that experience into a few hours. A week. Here and there. Of

course, if he wants to take on creating, developing and implementing that part of the Platform, that would be even better. When it has been established that there is

enough of a demand there. Which is something he could also help me with.

Don’t look at me like that. So I am not above kissing some ass, either.More kissing ass: he received a knighthood for his work on SEPA.

What the Chinese had in mind, was for us to go into Tibetan society, be among regular people, and for us to want to hide being high lamas at all times,

at all cost. There were high lamas at the monastery, believed to have been many times reincarnated, and then there were young souls, which would have been everyone else.

Those able to reincarnate and be found once more were safe from being killed. The rest wasn’t. The message being: hide being a high lama, or risk having them killed.

One little high lama, on her fourth birthday, watching young souls on television. But with school, about to start.

As far as one little four year old is concerned, no matter how many times I put on one of his DVDs,the man on stage is not-the-one-she-remembers. We prefer him in everyday, day to day life. We’re very particular with these things. He needs to sit down and sit still. And then we love watching him. When he is not watching.

As one little spirit walking eight year old Gracie-Grace put it: it doesn’t count when they are being adults.

On tour, and so very concerned for a daughter who was having to deal with some very painful memories, it was Bono who decided to do something that had one little ten year old Gracie go: but he is like Mansukh! Sending her loving energy. In the evenings, at those hours when she would otherwise have the hardest time.

Trying to work on these financial concepts, which would only feel safe to do, from about nine o’clock onwards. Curling up behind her desk, feeling this energy. And feeling safe. Having a high lama for a dad.

Gracie’s nickname in the ‘little lama club’ - for running the show;) -is: Houston. On the right, an older photo from her ‘command centre’.

On the left, one of Gracie’s very typical gestures.

He is at his best when he is on tour.

I really only know him as a control freak.

A little side effect, from having this loving energy sent. Took me some time work it out. In the evenings, to turn on the TV, and to find that my television watching habits had changed. Watching a show, and then, No. Changing the channel, to watch

something else on TV. Finding myself all of a sudden, quite limited in what I would find myself wanting to watch. For it being, all of a sudden, all about one little four year old’s television watching preferences. One little four year old, who had felt her sons- adult sons - watching over her, deciding for the first time in a long time, that since her sons- adult sons -were watching over her,

that it was safe for her to watch young souls on telly. This wonderful feeling about it, that only little four year olds can get away with, of it being one sided. They were looking after her, and so, she could go watch telly.

And, inner children, sure of it: Just Bono? No, it was the both of them.

In so far as you can trust spiritual processes everybody messes with, it was Bob who asked the right question:

How does she know they are her adult sons?