The Blue Mountains

By Lloyd Canty

The Blue Mountains is a captivating story set in Australia. Two complete strangers from continents an ocean apart are guided by the same invisible force that compels their paths to cross under the most extraordinary circumstances. They endure physical hardships, deception, intrigue and harrowing adventures along their way. It is the first in a series of books from this author. The second book in the series (a continuation of this story) is titled: Journey to the Temple of Mu.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lloyd Canty
• Release date: Aug 28, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301767625

Lloyd Canty

From an early age, I was curious about spiritual things. I wanted to learn as much as I could about the reason for my existence. In my teens my daily practice included meditation and Hatha Yoga and and I focused my studies on both Eastern and Western aspects of spirituality from the tenants of mainstream and Esoteric Christianity to the principles of Buddhism, Metaphysics, Theosophy and Mysticism. I also spent time learning the finer arts of boomerang throwing from an elderly Australian Aboriginal. He started my interest in the mystical Aboriginal practice of Walkabout and DreamTime. I figured that if Aboriginals have successfully practiced the art of Walkabout for a few thousand years, I might as well give it a try. So, after completing my academic studies, I left Australia and went Walkabout on my own spiritual trek. My journey led me throughout Europe and the United States where I sojourned at key spiritual centers on both continents. By a strange twist of fate I ended up working for an extremely wealthy family in the southern part of Switzerland. After a few years I traveled to Mt. Shasta, California. Many of my free hours were spent contemplating that most glorious of mountains. After four years of relatively reclusive living, I headed south and eventually created a successful company called Longevity Formulas. My wife and I later moved to Hawaii where I worked for a major international corporation. While living on Maui, I was instructed by two of the most preeminent Aikido teachers in the world: Suzuki Sensei and Curtis Sensei, together with Vipassana training by Kamala Masters and Steve Armstrong. During that time, I experienced a serious spinal injury. The Walkabout I had begun so many years before had now turned into a Walkabout through the Dark Night of the Soul, where everything in my life began to fall apart and was stripped away. It was during this time of renewed walkabout that my life began to take on a whole new meaning. This process inspired me to write about these steps, knowing that so many people are going through dramatic life changes. I decided to put all that I had learned in story form, the result being the publication of my first book, “My Boomerang Will Come Back” and subsequent series of Metaphysical novels such as, “The Blue Mountains” and it’s sequels, “Journey to the Temple of Mu and “Letters from Lemuria.” So many people have been impacted and inspired by these books. I will continue to write these stories for this reason.

Book preview

The Blue Mountains

Lloyd Canty

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Lloyd Canty

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Table of Contents

Tragedy

DreamTime

Awakening

In the Balance

Recovery

Dark Cloud

Earthquake

The Light Within

Truth

Good Friends

Betrayal

Abduction

Pure Evil

Rescued

Reunited

Hawaiian Encounter

Tragedy

Time to stretch these old legs, Mishelle, the tall lean man said, pointing to a thin stretch of gravel on the side of the mountain road several hundred yards ahead. Let's stop there. It's a safe place to pull over.

Mishelle remained in the vehicle with her mother while her father exited the passenger side and walked forward twenty yards or so, then paused to stretch and admire the view.

They had been traveling since before daybreak. Mishelle finally had a chance to relax at the wheel and take in the scenery around her. Heavenly, isn't it, Mum?

Yes, her mother replied. God created something very special here.

* *

Mishelle was born in these mountains. Each July, for the past twenty-two years, she returned with her mother and father to celebrate her birthday.

Though not of native Australian descent, Mishelle was a true 'bush' baby in every sense of the word. She was born in a bark lean-to, delivered by the hands of an old Aboriginal midwife.

Members of the Gundungurra tribe had long anticipated the arrival of a newborn child that would enter the world at a site known by them as 'Lightning Dream' ridge. Legend foretold the babe would have skin the color of white quartz with veins as blue as the threads of azure granite that weave deep into the heart of the mountain. It was prophesied this child would have unusual 'nature' powers rarely possessed by the local tribesmen or their ardent practitioners of DreamTime.

* *

Mishelle's father got back into the car and they continued their journey around the steep mountain passes.

Tell me the story again, Mum? Mishelle asked.

You've heard it so many times, dear.

I know, but I just like hearing you tell it, she insisted.

Her mother, Abigail, recalled how she and Mishelle's father had been stranded on the mountain ridge, caught in a terrible thunder storm; how she'd gone into labor and given birth much earlier than expected - a good two weeks before her scheduled admittance to the hospital. Mishelle wanted to be born here instead of in a hospital in Sydney, she mused. I can understand why. She is like these wild mountain ranges, free and untamed. She fingered the string of delicate pearls around her neck and admired the small diamond ring on the finger of her left hand. It was set amidst a blaze of blue opals and as she moved her hand the fire in the stones danced in the morning light.

This land offers up such riches, she thought. She looked out the window and absorbed the beauty around her - the vast sandstone valleys green laden with a thick canopy of trees, misty veiled waterfalls falling delicately from hidden heights, the quaint mountain cabins of timber and stone with wisps of smoke rising from their chimneys. She felt at home and breathed in deeply the cool mountain air with its pungent aroma of eucalyptus.

She observed the occupant of the passenger seat in front of her and smiled to think of how unnerved he was at the time of Mishelle's birth. Flecks of silver-grey showed through his tussled brown hair. She gazed at him softly and her eyes teared as she realized how much she loved him. She leaned forward, snuggling her forehead against his neck and draped her arms around him, folding her long delicate hands over his chest.

We're growing old together, Robert, she whispered. He smiled and nodded. She could feel the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart. He had always been that way, so warm, so strong. He reached over and placed his hands over hers. They were broad hands but gentle and caring. He nuzzled her and closed his eyes.

It just seems like yesterday, he said.

As they enjoyed the closeness, the sunlight streamed through the front windshield and warmed their bodies.

* *

Without any warning, an enormous truck appeared directly ahead of them. It towered above the road as it came thundering around the corner, swerving dangerously from one side to the other. The driver seemed to be wrestling with the steering wheel. Within seconds the hulking tonnage bore down upon Mishelle's car. She could see the expression of horror on the driver's face. Mishelle uttered a half choked cry to her parents who were still lost in their dreams, then jammed her foot hard on the brake. Her station-wagon careened off the right side of the truck. If she hadn't reacted so quickly a head on collision would have been inevitable.

The bull-bar on the front of the truck ripped through the frame of her wagon, lifting it off the road tail-end first and dragged it on its side a quarter mile down the steep grade. The underside of the car caught the cliff-face abutting the road. The force of the impact caused her car to disengage from the truck's grill and spin around like a child's top before flipping over and smacking the cold granite wall.

Her vehicle remained upside down, all four wheels still spinning. Its metal skin was torn completely from the top and sides as if it had been pried off with a giant can opener. The truck disappeared out of sight, leaving in its wake a burning slick of oil and a trail of smoking metal which had once belonged to her vehicle.

DreamTime

The Blue Mountains comprise a vast network of rugged cliffs and tree-lined valleys, carved out of the earth on a continent millions of years old.

Since recorded time, during the long summer months, when daylight breaks and the first rays of dawn fall upon these ancient peaks, a striking event of nature unfolds. Far below, under the darkened canopy of giant fern and eucalyptus trees, enormous flocks of wild cockatoos join in an ear numbing chorus as they wait impatiently for their signal. As the first shafts of sunlight filter down into these mist shrouded chasms, the birds take wing and begin their daily ritual, flying upward into the light.

Upon reaching the mountain heights, they perch precariously in the tallest treetops overhanging the canyon walls. The shear weight of their numbers cause nimble branches to bend to their breaking point as the birds flutter their sulphur-white wings to warm their feathers from the damp night air. Beneath them, under the old strands of blue gum and iron bark trees, small gatherings of wallabies and grey mountain kangaroos rouse themselves out of their evening resting places to graze on wild paspalum grass. As the sun rises higher above the mountain tops, the intensity of light and the heating effect it creates on the rock, cause the eucalyptus trees to emit an oily vapor that produces a cerulean haze over the land. The effect is stunningly beautiful and the name Blue Mountains is a fitting description.

* *

Long after the first migration of Aboriginal peoples from southeast Asia to the Australian continent over 40,000 years ago, when the last vestiges of ancient land bridges connecting the two continents had diverged into salt water marshland then eventually submerged beneath what is now the Timor sea, a gathering of all the native tribes occurred here in the Blue Mountains. The chosen site of this meeting was known by the Aboriginal people as Gullumbimby — mountains of the reflecting sky. It became their 'Dreaming site'. They brought with them all the knowledge of their ancestors and focused it in this sacred place so that it would become a focal point of spiritual power for future generations.

Up until the coming of the first European explorers in the later part of the seventeen hundreds, the tribal elders returned each year to keep alive this tradition. They would tune in to the nature spirits of this remote area by immersing themselves in corroboree — the ancient practice of chant and ceremonial dance. They would then carry this sacred power back to their respective tribes to sustain the spiritual needs of their people throughout the coming year.

The mystery of how they were able to gather at this place at the same time without the use of modern communication devices or navigational systems, traversing unbelievably rugged outback wilderness from remote places spread far across the continent, is still unknown. A small group of intrepid archaeologists, not held in the highest esteem