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Enanika: Visionary Fiction—The Roof of the World

In Chapters 8 and 9 of Enanika, Anu is drawn far beyond the quiet streets of Milkwood into one of the most ancient spiritual landscapes on Earth — Tibet, the roof of the world. At the Hermitage of Ling-Shi-La and later at the Sanctuary of Zamsar, she encounters a living spiritual lineage that once shaped, and still shapes, the energetic evolution of Earth. These chapters move between worlds — Milkwood and the Himalayas, present and past — revealing doorways into the sacred. While the Hermitage offers transmission, the Sanctuary offers a love story.

Chapter 8: The Hermitage of Ling-Shi-La

Anu’s day in Milkwood had been simple: a short shift at the cafe, a quiet walk home, and the soft murmuring of Fat Cow Creek as she settled into bed. She didn’t slip into sleep. Instead, she slipped out of her body. 

The heaviness of Earth fell away. The rolling hills of Milkwood faded into the distance. She was astral travelling, moving through layers of light — a thin veil. The air thickened again. Weight entered her limbs. Her feet struck solid ground. She inhaled sharply and felt cold air. 

Her body had reformed on a narrow path carved into a cliff face. Below was a drop so deep the bottom dissolved into haze. Huge rocks jutted outward, shielding her ledge from the worst of the icy hurricane gusts. A voice rose from the cliffs below, steady and calm. 

“Downwards, child. Not upwards. The path is here.”

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Enanika: Visionary Fiction—The Earth Crossing

A rainbow crossing, a chai, and a familiar face — Anu’s first real steps on Earth begin.

We’ve spent the beginning five chapters of Enanika travelling with Anu through the fascinating, vibrant world of Enanika—watching her prepare for her first solo mission, learning about Contact Callers, and witnessing the mystic power of the Seed-of-Life sculpture, the living geometry capable of carrying a being from one realm to another.

Now, in Chapters 6 and 7, Anu steps into Milkwood—a thriving rural town of mineral springs and rainbow crossings, a haven for artists, healers, LGBTQ+ folk, and colourful nonconformists. Here, she begins her Earth-life in earnest, navigating some very human challenges and meeting someone she never expected to find on this planet.

Chapter 6: Milkwood

On Earth:

Milkwood hadn’t always been the colourful, open-hearted, and open-minded place Anu was stepping into. For most of its history, it was a regular country town—quiet, modest, shaped by old farming families and the remnants of a brief gold rush that had fizzled out more than a century ago. The land held stories of hard work, family orchards, and sheep, cattle, and dairy farms. People came and went, but nothing much changed. Milkwood was the kind of place where everyone knew everyone else, and new ideas arrived slowly, if at all. 

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Enanika: Visionary Fiction—Seed of Life

In Chapters 4 and 5 of Enanika, we learn of the ancient Seed of Life sculpture and the frequency technology that links worlds. Anu discovers that Earth carries a more intimate connection to Enanika than she realised.

Chapter 4: Seed of Life Sculpture

Closing the door of her cottage, with one last lingering look at her cosy, dear home, Anu greeted the callboy.

“Morning. You’re early.”

“Never early or late,” he replied with a wink. “Always right on time.”

She fell into step beside him as they began the walk towards the hilltop. The air was still and honey-scented. The moss beneath them was soft, absorbing the sound of their footsteps.

“I see you’re travelling via the Seed of Life sculpture,” said the callboy. “Not a ship?”

“I prefer the subtle to the showy,” said Anu.

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Enanika: Visionary Fiction—Shifting Orbits

In Chapters 2 and 3 of Enanika, we move further into Anu’s world. Something is shifting — the theatrical callboy appears more often than chance would allow. As Anu prepares for her journey, the threads of a larger unfolding begin to unravel.

Chapter 2: Shifting Orbits

As Anu was about to make her way home, she thought she saw the callboy at the far end of the market. He was a distinctive figure in a red, old-fashioned theatrical coat and a feathered hat tilted slightly—playful but precise. A sash was draped across his shoulder, patterned with the shifting glyphs of destination points. She had seen him a few times lately, each sighting sooner than the last. That meant the time was fast approaching. There were many callboys, callgirls, and call-creatures, but the one for Earth was the theatrical callboy.

The homeward path was lined with trees whose leaves shimmered with inner light. Anu’s home was built of wood and stone, and, like most others, merged seamlessly with the landscape. Inside, the furnishings were made of a nano-material that changed form as needed. A table, chairs, and bed would materialise when required, then dissolve back into the wall when not. 

Anu put her vegetables into a bowl, which cooked them instantly, each to its own unique requirements. She sat in her soft mauve chair, eating her meal, gazing out the window, and mentally preparing for her upcoming trip to Earth. 

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Enanika: Visionary Fiction—The Marketplace

🌍✨ A new story begins…

It’s always an exciting moment to begin a new story.
Here is the start of my new fiction series, Enanika.
It carries the same mystical, otherworldly tone as the Waldmeer Series—yet it’s set in a completely different world. 🌿🕊️

In the opening chapter of Enanika, we meet Anu in her natural world — a peaceful, advanced planet where telepathy is normal, harmony is effortless, and daily life moves with an inner hum of presence.

Chapter 1: The Marketplace

Anu moved with untroubled ease through the open-air market, her short chestnut bob brushing just above her shoulders. Sunlight caught her blue eyes, clear like the surface of a calm mountain lake. She looked about thirty, although many of the other adults did as well. So, it was unclear how old she really was.

Her earth-toned, flowing garments—soft linen pants and a knee-length dress—moved in sync with the subtle breeze and the rhythm of the marketplace. To most visitors, that rhythm seemed silent. But to the Naniks, the inhabitants of Enanika, it was a visceral presence, like a soft hum in the background. All Naniks were telepathic. 

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Consciousness Rising is Published!

I’m so happy to let you know that Consciousness Rising is now available. It is my 23rd book. I love all my books (like children) and each one is different (like children). Consciousness Rising carries the most advanced teaching of them, yet it’s not difficult to understand. It’s full of practical practices for you to try — enjoyable, transformative ways to change how you see and experience yourself and life. Available as paperback, ebook, and audiobook.

Consciousness Rising

Most people live their entire lives inside a narrow, troubled version of reality — unaware that both they and their world are fragments of a far greater field of consciousness.
Consciousness Rising is an invitation to step beyond those limits and awaken to the deeper architecture of existence.

Through paradigm-shifting insights, grounded practices, and lived stories, this book shows how awareness transforms every dimension of life — dissolving the patterns that confine us, reconfiguring our inner world, and revealing the extraordinary potential that is always within reach.

This is not abstract philosophy or comforting theory. It is radical truth — a shift in perception that changes how we think, love, create, and live. Within these pages, consciousness becomes a living, transformative force for you to embrace.

Learn more

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Parallel Realities and Fiction

In the realm of fiction, some stories do more than momentarily entertain — they open a door to a parallel reality. One such story is James Hilton’s Lost Horizon, the book that introduced Shangri-La to the world in 1933. I read it in my early twenties, and it never left me.

Shangri-La is a mystical, timeless valley hidden high in the Tibetan mountains — a place of serene beauty and profound peace, where people live in harmony and age almost imperceptibly. It is a true sanctuary of deep stillness and gentle happiness.

Though the main character, Conway, was persuaded to leave Shangri-La, the moment he returned to the outside world, he was filled with a deep, unshakable longing to find his way back. I had the same feeling — a deep longing to return.

This is the power of well-crafted fiction — the ability to open a doorway to parallel realities. When we talk about writing fiction, we often think of it as inventing stories from imagination. But there’s another way to see it. Good fiction writers aren’t simply creating imaginary worlds out of nothing. They’re tuning into other concurrent realities. Most people assume that there is just one reality. But those on the spiritual path understand that existence has many layers. A skilled writer can attune to those layers. The world they write about is real in its own dimension.

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Death as Waking

When we understand that we are always living in spirit—that spirit is our natural home—we see death differently. The soul is not inside the body. It is the other way around. The body is in the soul. Earth life can be thought of as a creation made in physical form. We are experiencing it with other souls who have agreed to share the same dimension.

Each morning, when we wake up, it is not so much that we enter back into reality out of a dream, but that we shift between dimensions, exchanging one dream for another. The dream is not “unreal” in the sense of being invalid. From the perspective of the soul, it is entirely valid—100% real—because it brings lessons, experiences, and opportunities for growth, both for ourselves and for others. Even the most difficult experiences are chosen, for they contain the opportunity for tremendous growth.

Death is not an ending. It is a shifting of dreams, a changing of dimensions. The Earth dream is precious, valid, and chosen. When it concludes, we awaken once more into the larger reality of Spirit. From there, we continue—always alive, always creating, always home.

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Grief: Loss or Learning

When we lose someone deeply woven into the fabric of our lives—it could be a partner, a parent, a child, a sibling, or a close friend—grief is the natural human response. When lives have been intimately shared, their absence forces us to find a new way of being, sometimes at many different levels. 

For most people, the grieving process typically lasts one to three years. During that time, emotions rise and fall, and the experience can feel somewhat similar to depression—not in a negative sense, but as a turning inward. Grief asks us to withdraw, to reform ourselves, and to create a new life structure after something central has been taken away. Depression, when used positively, is a similar process. It is a reformulation of ourselves.

Your connection with your loved one is irreplaceable and unbroken. The question is how you wish to experience this human journey and whether you choose to allow grief to become a doorway into transformation and a deeper awareness of love.

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The Ones Who Come

The life of Cesar Millan, dog trainer extraordinaire, began far from the glossy world of television studios. As a young man, he crossed the border into the United States with almost nothing—no English, no money, only instinct. He worked as a dog groomer’s assistant in Los Angeles, but people soon noticed that when their pets were too difficult or aggressive for others, Cesar could handle them calmly.

The cases that built his reputation were the unmanageable Rottweilers, German shepherds, and other powerful breeds. Where others saw danger, he carried calm leadership. Just as Cesar’s success came not from the easy dogs but from the fierce ones that others feared or rejected, we do not choose who comes to us in life. We don’t handpick our companions, our students, our audience, or our circumstances. If we have something to give, those who need it will find us. They may not look like what we expected. But they are ours.