Coromandel’s Collaborative Magazine

Unexplainable Happenings – Part 2

Ross Liggins is back with more anecdotes and insights

My most memorable strange experience occurred in my early thirties. I had been attending parapsychology classes over the previous months, where we learned about auras, spirits and   lots of other esoteric things. One of them was called ‘transfiguration’, when a person or thing changes its shape or form. I was visiting a friend in Whangamatā who was interested in that kind of stuff. We got onto the subject of transfiguration. I explained what my teacher had told me, namely that if you looked at someone’s face slightly out of focus, sometimes another face would appear. I had never practised this before but was willing to give it a go. So, I gazed at my friend’s face and after a few moments it transformed into the face of a much older, dark-haired, desperately sad woman. Suddenly I felt a strong physical force pushing me downwards. I started to feel very afraid, as this definitely didn’t feel like a benevolent force. I remembered my parapsychology teacher telling us that if we ever got into trouble, to immediately ask god for help. Even though at that time I wasn’t sure which god if any I believed in, I stammered out “Help me”, to try and avoid crashing through the floorboards. The force immediately disappeared. I told my friend what had happened and described the face that hers had transformed into. She showed me a photo of her deceased mother who had died in tragic circumstances. It looked the same as the face I had seen. After that, I realised I had been playing with fire, and immediately stopped the classes I had been attending. It did however give me a small experience of another dimension that I had no idea existed before that day. That glimpse was enough for me. I don’t feel a need to go there again.

There are so many teachings and beliefs about what happens when our earthly lives end. Despite the above experience, I have no idea what happens, and I have no beliefs about it. I will just try to enjoy each living day and deal with death when it comes, however strange it may turn out to be.

A while later I hitch-hiked to Sandy Bay’s Moehau Community farm near the northern tip of the Coromandel Peninsula to visit my sister who was holidaying there. Before leaving a few days later, she mentioned that one of the community members had a small dwelling up in the bush at the foot of Mount Moehau, in which I was welcome to stay. I had some free time so I decided to do a bush retreat. Some years before, an elderly mentor, who periodically helped me with advice when life got a bit troublesome, lent me a book written by well-known Kiwi sailor Adrian Hayter, in which he described a mysterious stranger appearing in the cockpit of his yacht during a long solo sailing voyage. The unknown stranger apparently told him to contemplate the Book of Acts for 14 days. I don’t remember the outcome for Adrian of this strange occurrence, nor its cause. Was it a real person, or the figment of an imagination heightened by many months alone at sea? Anyway, my mentor told me that one day I would also do the 14-day task. I thought she was nuts. Why would I ever want to do such a seemingly mundane thing?  However, as I wandered up to the bush retreat on that day, this memory came back to me very strongly and when I arrived at the small dwelling there was a bible on the bookshelf, so, remembering my mentor’s prediction, I thought, “Why not? No harm can come from it and she must have told me this for a reason.” So, I started reading. When I finished, I started again and then again … After a few days I had memorised the text and just kept reciting it for 14 days. I didn’t call myself a Christian and I wasn’t sure why I was doing it, but it just felt like the right thing to do. Today I can’t remember even one word of it. I had only taken a couple of days of food with me so, when that was gone, I decided to fast, and drank only tea made from the herb bushes around the dwelling. After a few days of no food, I didn’t really feel hungry but was conscious of a sharpening of the senses. My mind was very clear and the trees of the forest seemed to stand out more sharply. But the thing that really struck me was the sounds I heard. The wind would sweep down from Moehau and then gradually blend into a sound like the chanting of a mediaeval choir. I had never heard anything like this before and couldn’t explain it. Perhaps the fasting and meditative concentration may have allowed me to see and hear things that I don’t normally experience. Some people I spoke to told me of ancient spirits that inhabit the mountain. I couldn’t exactly describe the benefit I received from this experience in the bush under Moehau, but I know that after it, life somehow became less of a struggle. It really was one of those unexplainable experiences.

-Words by Ross Liggins