4. The Power of the Campfire

The story of Tom Lambert by Beverly Lambert, 3rd April, 2003

Brandon has requested stories about children who have undergone Journeywork, and she may be interested in hearing about my son, Tom, aged nine, who has apparently received healing following a campfire process 'by proxy'.

Tom (born May 1993) has always been a very sensitive child, who, from birth, could not bear to be separated from his parents. I have memories of cooking, doing the housework, mowing the lawn – all with Tom the toddler on my back in a carrier, gazing over my (or my husband’s) shoulder, eagerly watching what's going on and not wanting to be put down.

When Tom started at pre-school, aged two years and nine months, he screamed and screamed when he realized I was leaving him there, but the staff assured me he would be fine once I had gone, so I guiltily left, feeling close to tears my-self. When I returned three hours later to collect Tom, he just looked up at me in amazement and said, 'You came back! You came back!' During the five-minute car journey back home, little Tom just kept repeating, 'You came back!' I was constantly reassuring him that, of course, I came back; I would not leave him! However, it was apparent that he had not been expecting to see me again – poor little chap!

As Tom's grown older, he has continued to dislike activities away from home, only being happy in his familiar home environment. When he started Proper School at the age of four-and-a-half, the tears and tantrums continued every morning, accompanied by screams that he didn't want to go to school; he just wanted to be at home with me. These upsetting scenes continued, on and off, up until January 2003. Tom would not eat breakfast on school mornings, as he was too worried, and, when walking into school, he would always hold my hand tightly whilst his classmates ran past, having left their parents way behind (or even at home!).

Things came to a head on Thursday, 9th January, 2003 when our private maths tutor arrived in the early evening to work with Tom and his older sister, Freya. John, the tutor, had previously mentioned to me that there were 'serious under-currents' with Tom and that he had very low confidence levels. John pointed out that Tom was afraid of making mistakes – if he made a mistake, his writing would shrink right down in size. On this particular evening, my husband, Nick, who serves in the Royal Navy, was away and Tom was having a big tantrum about having to do maths. John had a gentle chat with him, but Tom uncharac-teristically stormed out of the room and ran up to his bedroom. When I went up to talk to Tom, he was telling me how much he hated John and how much he hated maths lessons. Suddenly, he began to cry, saying, 'I miss Daddy.' I gave him a tissue to dab his eyes and, while we talked, Tom systematically shredded the tissue, finishing by dropping the pile of bits on his lap, saying, 'That’s John!' I was able to go down to John and tell him with confidence that Tom hated him and there seemed to be no way ahead with maths! That night, I went to bed very concerned about how this little boy was going to sort out his various behav-ioral problems which apparently related to lack of confidence.

The following morning, I sat down to meditate and, before beginning, I asked the Universe out loud, 'If there are any insights I can have which may help me to help Tom, please bring these insights to me.' I then went into Source and the whole picture came before me:

The morning on which I went into labour with Tom was the very day that Nick was due to go for an interview for new position within the Navy, based near Lon-don. Nick had flown back from sea especially for this interview, which was scheduled two days before Tom's expected arrival. Nick and I sat in the Portsmouth hospital, agonizing over whether he should stay for the birth (which the midwife assured us was some way off), or whether he should still go for the interview on the basis that, if he got the job, it would be shore-based, which would mean we would have quality family-time together. Eventually, we agreed that he should go for the interview, hoping he'd be back for the birth. Tom, however, was born while Nick was in his interview. Nick returned to the hospital when Tom was about two hours old and rejoined his ship about ten days later, returning home after a further two months away. (He did get the job, by the way!)

Brandon's words, 'Everything is Consciousness', came back to me; the baby in the womb 'got it' that Daddy was abandoning him, had chosen not to be present for his birth, returned shortly after the birth, then disappeared off to sea again. Tom, thus, acquired the belief that his father abandons him, hence his need to keep his mother within his sight lest she also leave him. I can now understand why the separation which school represented was so painful for him.

I then set up a campfire in my meditation with unborn Tom, newly born Tom and Nick, and I 'dialogued' them, ensuring that they all 'emptied out', saying everything that needed to be said, and that forgiveness took place. 'Nick' and I also repeatedly told baby Tom that Daddy loved him very much and that he always comes back. We carried out sweep-cleans and chord-cutting and had a family hug. Tom is small for his age and enjoys being small. During this 'insight', I realized that he likes being small because it means that people will feel more protective of him and will be less likely to abandon him. At the campfire, I therefore told Tom that he is a big boy now, in the hope that he would then give himself permission to grow. It's probably 'coincidence', but he grew 1 cm in the four weeks after the process!

I picked up Tom from school that afternoon. Almost immediately upon getting into the car, Tom said to me, 'I've realized that I wasn't angry at John last night. I was just missing Daddy.' I was flabbergasted! This was not the type of observation I would ever expect Tom to make; he had been present at the campfire!

Since that day, Tom has been a new, confident, happy child. He eats breakfast before school and usually does not hold my hand as we walk into school. John, the maths tutor, continues to express his wonder at the change in Tom, who is now extremely jolly during his lessons. John also commented about two weeks after the campfire process that, when Tom makes mistakes now, instead of contracting, he just forges ahead in search of the correct answer!

Also noteworthy is that Nick has now been away in the Middle East for six weeks and Tom is coping wonderfully. Prior to my husband's departure, I had warned Tom's teacher that he may become a little problematical with his father being away. However, he is absolutely fine, just commenting from time to time how he misses Daddy, and he has had two small sobs from which he very quickly recovered.

In the last month or so, I have realized that a further issue has been resolved for Tom through addressing the 'abandonment' issue. Whilst we lived away in The Netherlands for three years, Tom's best friend, Richard, left his and Tom's UK school for another school. Upon Tom's return to his UK school, he badly missed Richard, resulting in many tears and unhappiness at school. I now realize he was experiencing abandonment again – this time by his best friend! Since Tom's 'campfire by Proxy', school has just not been a problem for him and he has dramatically widened his circle of friends.

At the end of April 2003, he will be going on his first school field trip, entailing three nights away from home – and he's looking forward to it!

Such is the power of Consciousness – and of the 'Campfire by Proxy'!