If Walls Could Speak

If walls could speak, we could recreate the true history of the human kind…Do we have a fiction stories? Or they appear to us as “a fiction” from our deepest layers of our subconscious? From previous lives, from other galaxies or from the esoteric beings, who channel them to us…

I am a wall in one of the caves of Uluru known as well for a short time as Ayer’s Rock. I am 500 million years old and I live in Australia. During my lifetime I have seen a lot. Even the “dinosaur like” creatures and many others beings of Mesozoic Era, which were so different here in Australia.

That Mesozoic beings were great; so playful and so dignified that I loved them to watch. I think it was a bit before, bit after or on the celebration of my 250-million-year birthday! Sometime after I became a close witness of the appearance of the great spirits of the Aboriginal people. It was so fascinating to observe their peaceful life. They lived in such a blissful harmony with everything what was existed around. We all, including me, enjoyed so much of being a part of this sacred, flourishing and abundant life.

During that millennia of freedom of the native Australian people, I enjoyed the happiest and the most interesting and stimulating time of my life. I was really happy because I was useful and this gave me a lot of pride as I as well was in service to that amazing miracle of life. I became “a blackboard” in Aboriginal School of Life for the young boys. I worked a bit differently from the blackboards in the Western schools. The knowledge on me was represented by drawings, symbols and picturesque stories which were marked on me permanently. It lasted for ages and it still exists but recently no one study here anymore because the Aboriginal people have been chased away from their sacred place.

The “classroom” where I exist was one of the number of caves which consisted on our castle at Uluru’s George Canyon. It has separate chambers for many different functions.

As I mention before, the chamber I exist was used as a place where grandfathers thought they male youngsters the art of hunting, traveling, resourcing the waterholes and meaty animals, bushfires management, creating and maintaining tools and so on before practical lessons in bush. After finishing that training the boys became men and worked in bush until they were skilful enough to be recognised as a senior male. Seniors had their own cave used for preparing ceremonies.

“Kitchen cave” was a place for women, children and girls. Women were teaching young girls how to sourcing proper seeds and other ingredients and prepare meals; how to grind seeds, prepare dough, bake as well how to look after infants and of course… girls were studied “pharmacy” and folk medicine…

There were as well two sacred caves, separate for men and women, where they were connecting with their higher beings.

“Elderly cave” was for the oldest, who could not participate actively in life. But of course, they were not on “welfare”. They had their tasks as well…they job was to roast a meat and, in the meantime, telling stories to children…they were passing all their wisdom to their successors…as we know elderly’s and children’s brains are mostly working on the theta frequency, the frequency that enable communication between subconscious and conscious minds. It is the reason why elderly and kids can understand each other so well, as they both have ability to communicate with other dimensions, the worlds of spirits, ancestors, personal guides and so on…the Elderly were teaching there their kids the Aboriginals’ art of DREAMTIME.

The Aboriginals’ name Uluru was changed into Ayers Rock in the memory of “Sir” Henry Ayres. He was the man, who deprived Aboriginals rights to continue their traditions there, the blinded businessman, who destroyed the beauty and the sacred order of that Divine Rock for his blind purpose; money. He died as a really very rich man passing his enormous, greed to his successors, who are continuing his barbarians practice to the recent days.

I still exist but the secret and sacred knowledge written on me has no meaning for the noisy and thoughtless crowd of tourists, who pass me every day without any respect for the place but who bring 360 million dollars a year to the “Sir” Ayres successors…while the native people of the place were forced to go to “Western” schools to learn how to make more money which in consequence leads to the catastrophes we are witnessing now….