Have you ever looked yourself up on a Google search? I do from time to time and I’m always intrigued by what the Judy Halls of this world are up to. Because, of course, there are many more than one of me. Or so the name would lead you to believe. I’ve often thought of writing a novel where somehow all these different alter egos come together. I think of them as perhaps playing out the roles of the planets and signs in my birthchart. I muse on whether there is one ‘Judy Hall oversoul’ who has taken on many incarnations under that name. In much the same way as all crystals of one type have a ‘crystal oversoul’. (see Mike Eastwood’s Crystal Oversoul books and cards.) Is there a kind of soul split that is feeding back experiences to the mainframe? I know such soul splits exist because I’ve met them but it’s usually just a couple of people involved who are living lives on earth at the same time (see The Book of Why). Or is it? Are we much more joined than we perceive? Or do we have no connection at all beyond the name?
My alter egos are a lively lot. So many resonate with what I’m doing, with the different aspects of myself but then there’s one or two who do what I’d love to be able to do. Judy Hall the jazz singer for instance. As someone who is tone deaf and can’t sing a note, I really enjoy the thought that at least one of my alter egos can carry a tune. Actually there seem to be several musical Judys. In my chart, Taurus, the sign I associate with music, is empty. Clearly not something I was destined to do in this life. If it had been I’d probably have ended up as a medium on a Spiritualist platform and my life would have taken a whole other direction. But there’s a Judy Hall album on Youtube and they clearly think she’s me as all my books are displayed beneath her album. So thank you for the free publicity musical alter ego of mine.
And there’s Enterprise Solutions: Judy Hall Senior Software Engineer. Job Responsibilities: Project Management/Technical … I could really do with her IT skills, I tend to crash computers. Too much Uranus in my chart. As the planet of high vibrations it’s prone to things blowing up around it and me. But it’s very handy when it comes to working with crystals and astrology as it helps me read the vibrations. There’s even a Pastor Judy Hall, something I’m happy to leave to her. There are some aspects of myself that I have no intention of living out in this lifetime. I’ve been the pastor before, but I suppose in a strange way you could say I’m shepherding my flock when I facilitate workshops or take them into other lives and dimensions. Everything can be turned around and looked at from another angle.
When I searched today I was sad to find that the website of pest controller Judy Hall seems to have disappeared. I seem to recall that she dealt with rats and kangaroos. A lot of my work is concerned with pest control, but of a somewhat different kind. Hitchhikers, unwelcome walk-ins, psychic vampires, mind control from afar, that’s the kind of pest I deal with (see my Psychic Protection books). Though I have met a few rats and jumpers in my life too… But I did find a Judy Hall Facebook page that was defending a bug. I simply had to share this wonderful contradiction with you. It so expresses the Gemini-Sagittarian side of me:
‘This is not a kissing bug. The insect pictured here is an assassin bug. The assassin bug is a beneficial bug which feeds on other, non-beneficial insects. It does not feed on the blood of animals and is not known for biting people, in fact it does not have biting mouth parts… Its natural habitat is on trees and brush, where it will find food. But, in some parts of the world, they are bread [sic] as pets and for natural pest control.’
According to many internet sites, the kissing bug is just another name for the assassin bug. Apparently the kissing bug is lethal as it carries a very nasty disease while masquerading under such a lovely name. It does nicely illustrate how difficult it can be sometimes to distinguish between beneficial and harmful beings. I’ve known many a guide or spiritual mentor to turn out to be a leech feeding off a person’s energy rather than empowering them – and quite a few incarnated souls as well. We’re back to the psychic vampire tussle again here.
Then there’s the Judy Hall who’s a ‘double agent.’ Sadly not quite as exciting as it sounds. She helps people buy and sell houses. But I’ve done that too in not so distant the past. And Dr Judy Hall, Professor Teacher Education, who used to teach special needs. She seems to be carrying on the part of me that trained to be a teacher and really enjoyed working with the special needs classes. But my college report said ‘has very strange ideas and should not be allowed near children’. I decided to move on. But is she fulfilling the very active Gemini part of my chart? She’s certainly done the PhD I never quite got around to despite ‘a talent for research’. But, as a long gone, beloved astrologer friend said when he read my chart, ‘there are many ways of teaching.’ I came back to teaching by a very circuitous route, sharing exactly those same strange beliefs with adults.
Actress Judy Hall was apparently known for ‘An American in Paris’ – although she was an ‘uncredited girl at the ball’ and it seems to have been her only film. She was clearly living out my Leo Ascendant for me, for a moment at least. Leo naturally belongs on the stage. But I’d had a couple of horrendously humiliating theatrical experiences as a child. I dreaded the thought of being on the telly, until I finally did it and absolutely loved it. Mind you, having Richard and Judy as my debut interviewers helped tremendously. They were so interested in the whole idea of reincarnation and had actually read the book I was promoting – in my experience that’s quite rare. Many interviewers seem to read the cover and that’s it. Don’t we all do that sometimes? Judge someone by the cover or by what someone says about them without taking the trouble to get to know them.
As a subversive Hades Moon ‘double agent’ I then appeared on all the religious programmes current at the time. (If you want to know all about my Scorpio Moon see The Hades Moon for further insight.) We even mocked up one of my near-death-experiences for BBC2. Great fun and very Scorpionic. I think if I had my time over again I’d like to work in the production side of t.v. Maybe I am, in another guise?
Sadly Judy Hall died in an accident in the mountains of the Isle of Arran. Somewhere I have yet to visit. She was a dedicated and much loved social worker in the children and families field, and also a valued and supportive friend to many people. Roles that I take on in my counselling work and in my life generally I would hope.
There are several Judy Hall artists. I came to painting comparatively late in life, encouraged by a dragon – and if you want to meet your own dragon come to the College of Psychic Studies in the autumn. It’s not something I do as much as something that is done through me. It is called ‘involuntary art’ apparently. The paint goes on and something magical happens. People seem to like the result. So the idea that at least five other Judy Halls are professional artists is heartening to me. There’s even a poet: Judith Goslin Hall, who is a pediatrician, clinical geneticist and dysmorphologist. I had to look up the latter and wasn’t surprised to find she deals with inherited birth defects. Something I do all the time in a more subtle energetic sense through my astrological past life readings and healing the ancestral line work.
I just found a Judy Hall in Queensland who runs an emu farm in Wagga Wagga. How great is that? Hadn’t spotted her before. I wonder what she’s living out for me? A happy marriage from the look of the picture of her with husband John. Nice to know someone can do that. It’s something I’d very much like. My Venus in Libra is delighted – that’s the planet of relationships in the sign of relationships. I really do not want to wait until next time to live that one out but time is moving on. She also makes ‘Memorable Wear’, that’s another skill I used to employ. My grandmother was a professional dressmaker and she taught me when I was very young. Some of my happiest memories are of being in her workroom and the smell of new fabric always invokes her memory.
After musing through 9 pages I gave up today, after all there are over 59 million entries under my name. I was searching for the ‘complementary’ me’s. The therapists and so on. I often wonder how the one who’s working in Neal’s Yard deals with questions from clients who assume she’s me. I’d love to ask her. I’d like to meet at least one of my alter egos. Perhaps I’ll make an appointment one day.
So, what do you think, are these all aspects of me? Are we all aspects of one another? Is there an oversoul somewhere ‘up there’ pulling puppet strings in the way the late great Lobsang Rhampa envisaged? He may have been an imposter monk but he gave so many people my age their spiritual start in life and his ‘teachings’ often make astounding sense to me. Things constantly surprise me, especially when I think I’ve got the hang of it, and until I get back into spirit I’m not coming to a definite conclusion. Those planetary gods might be laughing at me. Lately I often suspect that I’m their plaything in the way the ancient Greeks envisioned rather than the independent, free-willed soul I prefer to see myself as. We shall see!
And finally, how I wish I had written this powerful story by another Judy Hall. It resonates so strongly with me. Maybe one day you’ll discover why:
by Judy Hall
Remember the day I wore that brown dress with the big concentric circles and you were wearing ratty jeans and a Marilyn Manson t-shirt swimming on your skinny body? I watched you watching me, unabashedly staring at my breasts, and I thought you might be good for a fuck, if nothing else. I described the ideal cock to you and you said, well, guess what? And we made out in my little white Ford Aspire. Who knew you were poet or a liar or how gentle you could be or how much you could hurt me? Who knew there would always be this question of veracity hanging between us, lying in the pit, pendulum swaying, with dissembling being your temperament?
The time that my daughter threw up at the Big Boy on the Parkway coming up from Down The Shore I thought for sure, for sure you wouldn’t want me, this damaged woman with a kid who can puke on command, and you turned green but you didn’t leave us. You held her little shaking body, righteous with ire, and told her she mustn’t throw up when she is angry and that she had made Mommy sad, and my daughter was stricken with this news. Then I knew you could be the right father, the right lover, the right choice even if you are a prevaricator by nature and even if you wounded me more than anyone ever could. And I knew that you could accept the lunatic that I am because not everyone – maybe not anyone – could. I am not faithful but I am honest and you are not honest or faithful and there is always the question of truth but never of love. Somehow we have made this mess work with piles of pills and a gigantic Yoruba psychiatrist who wears a gold diamond studded dollar sign ring and has a name with consonants that just don’t seem to mix in English but which I taught you how to pronounce.
Who knew there were things I could forgive, like all the late nights and the suspiciously broken-down trains, me waiting with the kids at the Walnut Street Station, them sitting on the roof, dangling their legs through the sun and moon window atop the iridescent green Camry while I sang lullabies and spelling words or practiced times tables with them? But did I call you on your trustworthiness? I wedded you, had a baby with you, I moved forward as if trust were written in stone, proud that I, myself, had invented the illusion of faith.
When I tried to leave you that beautiful summer evening, heavy with the scent of lilacs and sorrow and death, when I thought I could not live without trust, I wanted to wound you, to break you like your dishonesties had eviscerated me and you cried, swore you could change. I willed my heart a stone, into a hunk of black obsidian. You went to the basement and locked yourself in with the nail gun and I called the police; they heard you say you’d shoot them with the nail gun and I never saw so much navy blue in all my life. They came like locusts, swarming our house, grabbing our children from where they lay, crying, in the purple bedroom, and then hiding them behind the aqua green minivan while they took you to the bright, flashing ambulance in handcuffs and everyone was crying. Everyone. The oldest stared at you in eleven year old wonder and distress, struggling to see you as the blue people pushed him away. Our toddler, in the arms of a stranger, cried out Sweetheart in his baby voice, lifted his chubby arms toward you. My daughter, who had become irrevocably our daughter, really your daughter, closed her nine year old eyes and pretended it wasn’t happening, this couldn’t be happening, this shouldn’t be happening – and she would never remember that night, never, not even on the precipice of adulthood could she remember almost anything from that whole summer. I watched it happen, stunned and I loved you so much, although you are a liar you are a good man, and the question of truth seemed so much smaller than the love the five of us had, love I couldn’t dismantle even with snapped lilac blossoms and silver handcuffs on your bruised wrists.
There is always the question of truth, but never of love. Never of love.
Judy Hall is a teacher of English, although she wishes she could just write all the time. She has a Masters in Literature from Rutgers and is an MFA candidate at William Paterson. She’s been previously published in Pyrokinection (July 13), Linguistic Erosion (June 13), The Story Shack (July 13) and Circa (June 13) and elsewhere. She lives in New Jersey with her husband, three children, a very stupid cat named Vladimir, an evil cat named Tonks and a number of unnamed fish.
See: Never of Love by Judy Hall
This particular Judy Hall, on the other hand, is a successful Mind-Body-Spirit author with over 46 books to my credit including the million selling Crystal Bible (volumes 1-3) and the very popular Crystal Prescriptions A-Z Guide series. I have four times appeared on the Watkins Review of the one hundred most spiritually influential authors this century and was Kindred Spirit’s MBS personality of the year in 2014. A natural psychic, I have been a past life therapist, crystal worker and karmic astrologer for over 45 years. I have a B.Ed in Religious Studies with an extensive knowledge of world religions and mythology and an M.A. in Cultural Astronomy and Astrology from Bath Spa University. My mentor was Christine Hartley (Dion Fortune’s metaphysical colleague and literary agent). Crystals specially attuned by me for you are available from www.angeladditions.co.uk. Catch up with me on my crystal-judy-hall and the-crystal-bible-by-Judy-Hall Facebook pages. Or subscribe to this blog. You never know what will be revealed next. Because, this is what I do, it isn’t who I am, it isn’t the totality of Me.
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