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About My Friend Connie

Updated: Jul 28, 2022

How fortunate I was to be the writer my dear friend Connie Jackson chose to write her life story. We spent many hours while she talked and I took notes, each minute a treasure trove of perspective-broadening life lessons laced with hilarity. Her psychic abilities astounded me.

Usually, we met in her home office. I loved walking in to her peaceful, beautiful home where my anxiety instantly slipped away. Her office was set up with two comfortable chairs and a table in the middle. Connie loved coffee and kept us supplied as we worked. I’m calling it work but it was not work at all to me. The hours flew.

Sometimes I picked her up and we went out for a meal. She always ordered breakfast. And rarely finished it. Having a meal was secondary to having the opportunity for more inspiring discussions. I made sure I carried a notepad.

One meeting was held while I was prone on the floor of her office. Back pain was making me miserable and that was the only comfortable position. Taking notes wasn’t possible, so I recorded our conversations on my phone. At one point, she began to laugh—really laugh—at how ridiculous we must have looked. Well, I must have looked.

Connie felt her poor education and insufficient vocabulary made her unintelligent, which was absolutely not true. Many times, her knowledge surpassed her vocabulary and that is where I came in. She shared her concepts and I asked questions until we agreed I comprehended them. I brought up comparisons, gave her vocabulary definitions to make sure we were in sync. Then I wrote passages and read them back to her for approval. In the meantime, I was achieving an advanced degree in spirituality from a teacher I trusted.

She never grew tired or short tempered. She said she loved telling her story and teaching what she had spent years learning. I began to recognize differences in the way she shared information. When she was connected with source and channeling, her language was faster, her voice more forceful, and her vocabulary considerably expanded. Incredible.

Once, Connie asked me to stand up. Keep in mind that I am almost six feet tall, and she was barely five. We stood facing each other and she asked me to hold my arms straight out in front. I did and she began to tell me I was worthless, ugly, a useless human being. She then pushed my arms straight down. I had no resistance.

Next, I put my arms out again and she told me I was intelligent, beautiful, wonderful, etc. She tried, but could not push my arms down, I had the power to resist. Connie said, “No understanding, no wisdom exists until knowing and experience come together.” An eye-opening experience and a prime example of the influence judgment has on us. Connie has much to say in Cut Open the Sky about judgment.

She was my friend as well as my teacher. I miss her terribly.

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