Stark Naked: The Truth About Women
By Ellyn Parker
()
About this ebook
Ellyn Parker
Ellyn Parker was born and raised in Austria, Europe. After spending two years in England and working bi-lingual for the oil cartel OPEC in Vienna for several years covering international conferences, she emigrated to America where she began an intense and effective transformational process to uncover the human soul to its core with a large international group of people using a highly unconventional approach. Ellyn is a SAG/AFTRA member having participated in several Hollywood Productions. She has also written a number of screenplays, exposing the human spirit in its many facets covering various genres.
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Stark Naked - Ellyn Parker
Remains
About the Author
Ellyn Parker was born and raised in Austria, Europe. After spending two years in England and working bi-lingual for the oil cartel OPEC in Vienna for several years covering international conferences, she emigrated to America where she began an intense and effective transformational process to uncover the human soul to its core with a large international group of people using a highly unconventional approach.
Ellyn is a SAG/AFTRA member having participated in several Hollywood Productions. She has also written a number of screenplays, exposing the human spirit in its many facets covering various genres.
Dedication
I would like to dedicate this book to my friends who accompanied me on my journey, with special thanks to my dear friend Laurine McNulty who stood by me throughout the worst of times.
I would also like to dedicate this book to rock star, Bryan Adams, for the many beautiful songs he has published about the woman in his heart, the woman I am. May this book help him understand women and in particular, the one he came into this world for.
Copyright Information ©
Ellyn Parker (2018)
The right of Ellyn Parker to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781787106253 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781787106260 (E-Book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2018)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd.
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Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
Destiny
The smell of new furniture…nauseating and the room is infested with it. Moving sucks and my nostrils are highly sensitive. The worst is finally behind me, and I can feel excitement slowly creeping up inside me again now that I am settling into a brand new room in a newly renovated home where the light and the view seduce you the moment you open the door. I am talking about my new bedroom on the top floor of the only highrise in town. A room with a view. I can see Germany from here and the sun sets right before my window on a clear day. There have been several magnificent sunsets since I moved here a couple of weeks ago. A bright and airy space that exudes clarity and a strong sense of innocence greets you when you enter the room. Persian carpets in warm colours cover the wooden floors, and original paintings together with photos of myself and some photography work I did several years ago decorate the white walls. It all looks pretty except for the bed. It is a brand new bed with probably the best mattress one can buy. And yet, I hate it. The reason I hate it is because it is a single bed that reminds me of a prison and reflects to me my own truth every time I look at it. I feel like I am locked up in a prison not knowing when and if I will ever get to leave. I moved back into this gorgeous baroque town, my home town, together with my mother. It is her flat I live in and I am her guest, temporarily. I have been her guest for the last four years – not voluntarily. I simply had no other choice which I will explain later. Here I am in what looks like a pretty room to the untrained eye, but it is a tough prison for me which brings me to the point of writing this book.
I was on a journey to uncover myself and the world in the process which led me to KALI, known as goddess of the underworld in the East who destroys all destruction in the human soul so that there may be life. In other words, she transforms all darkness until only truth remains. I have been in a prison for twenty one years, though not the kind of prison you probably visualise when you read this. But, a prison nonetheless. My life changed drastically in 1992 when I participated in a retreat at the Foundation for Self Realization in Ashland, Oregon. Believe me, I am no Ashram girl! I belong in the world. I had met the woman and her team who run this Ashram twice before and my life would never be the same.
I was a student at the American Conservatory Theatre in San Francisco during that time when, on a hot summer day in 1987, an acting colleague invited me to listen to a channel at the Marriott hotel south of town. What the hell was a channel? I dared not ask her. My colleague was mumbling something about a medium. I had no idea what she was talking about. I figured that I would be better off just to watch and allow myself to be surprised. The event was very well attended, but the audience seemed phony, almost creepy to me. I felt completely out of place. Wherever I turned I was met with fake smiles and a false kindness. Boy, was I relieved when a young woman finally took the stage and introduced herself. Her name was Penny and her staff referred to her as Ammagi, which was a spiritual term for ‘Little Mother’. She was a likeable young woman with thick blond hair and blue eyes. She told us that she had been given a mantra that allowed her to temporarily leave her body while a higher power/energy would occupy her body to speak to us. During her absence from her body her soul would remain to the left of her head. Now, that I could understand. Every new soul that is ready to come into this world once its seed has entered a mother’s womb also stays to the left of the mother’s head for the duration of the pregnancy.
So, that was a channel. In other words, she was an Oracle and the power that entered her body was called a medium. In this case, the medium was referred to as MAFU. Cool! And then it all happened. Little did I know back then. The girl on stage left her body and MAFU, a massive masculine power, took her body and moved, no stormed, into the audience so quickly I could barely follow with my eyes. For a moment, I was in awe and then I went into shock and almost fell off my chair. The massive presence in this young woman’s body was none other than myself. It was my own masculine power also known as one’s higher self coming through her, sending shivers down my spine. His eyes were fixated on my body the way an eagle fixates its prey. I felt paralysed. I mean, I certainly knew what my own power looked like and this was definitely it. Snap out o fit, I kept telling myself in my head. I had to force myself to focus on who was before me. The topics this medium was addressing were fascinating, especially the information about events to occur in the years to come. They did and still do as the story unfolds. I could not recall leaving the seminar that night. I was on some kind of high. All I remembered from that evening was that this power that came through the Oracle was literally my masculine Self. It was I and this power housed the theory of creating a better world. And, I also knew that I would play MAFU in a movie one day. How thrilling! What thrilled me even more was that MY POWER came through this young woman and not through me. That meant that I would be able to continue my acting career while my masculine Self would continue to speak through this young woman’s body. Yes, darling, you do your thing and I will do mine and play you in a movie one day,
I told an old friend then. How naive of me to believe that one and the same entity could occupy two bodies simultaneously for the rest of our lives. How could I be so wrong? Clearly, I had no clue about anything and my world was about to fall into pieces.
It was the beginning of a completely different journey – a journey I did not want. I never signed up for this, I kept telling myself over and over. In short, I fought this new direction for almost five years until everything I believed in and cherished had been taken from me and I had no choice but to accept what had been placed before me. It was my masculine power, my greater I, that spoke through the Oracle and it was I who would one day have to become this greater power, the one who knew how to transform the masses on this planet. During those years that I rebelled against my destiny I saw the Oracle and MAFU one more time in November of 1988 in Santa Barbara, California at a three day retreat. It was then that my chest was pushed open forcefully and painfully three nights in a row by this massive power that I know to be my masculine Self. I almost died in the process. I recalled not being able to breathe. I would sit up in my bed in the middle of the night desperately gasping for air. It felt as if someone had pushed a large, hard object right through my chest. This went on for three nights in a row leaving my chest wide open inside and very vulnerable. What an outragous intrusion! I thought, and I could do nothing about it. My path had been laid and I have been stripped of everything I have ever owned, ever desired, ever dreamed of since.
WHAT ON EARTH FOR? The reason for this kind of journey was to transform all hardships and pain on this planet until all fear subsided in me and only truth remained which would then cause a domino effect in the world. I housed all powers present on the planet within my soul, and my Oracle was my destructive counterpart through which the theory was delivered that one day I would have to realise in the world. This was done by living through all hardships and unjust circumstances, hopefully without destroying my body along the way, transforming the Oracle and the world in the process. I was the body that needed to do the work. Let me start from the beginning.
The Beginning
It was five fifteen in the afternoon of 14 February, 1992. I had just left the office of Booz, Allen & Hamilton. It was my last day at the company. For a year and a half, I had sat in an office working for one of the top guys, and both the company and I agreed that this kind of job did not make me happy. So, there I was jobless and relieved and on my way home from downtown San Francisco. How I loved San Francisco and my little place near the Golden Gate Bridge. I had fallen in love with the city after a vacation I took with a friend of mine several years ago and emigrated from Europe shortly thereafter.
The following two weeks I spent in Europe visiting my family. I did not have a close relationship with my family. I was the unwanted child who had carried my mother emotionally ever since I can remember. She seemed overwhelmed with everything in life – period, and my father died unexpectedly when I was six. He was the only one in my family who had accepted me the way I was. My mother was forced to work after my father’s death and I grew up with my grandmother who used to beat me for no reason. Now, my mother was married to a physician, an ego driven tyrant, I kept at a distance. During my stay at their home I chose not to mention that I had left my job in San Francisco. I no longer wanted their criticism and pressure and their own fears dumped on me anymore. I got plenty of that in my early years. My mother did not know love. To her love was money. So, I left Europe with some money in my pockets. Upon my return to the U.S. I applied for another job at numerous companies but without any luck. An era had ended and I could feel a new one was about to begin.
I had met a group of people the year before who regularly attended retreats and seminars at the Foundation For Self Realization in Ashland, Oregon led by the Oracle I met several years ago in San Francisco. I befriended a man by the name of Frank who owned a computer company in Silicon Valley. Frank was a very kind, warm man with a Persian background who had studied and spent most of his life in the U.S. He and I became best buddies as time went on and it was he who eventually persuaded me to attend a three day seminar at the Foundation, which was a large compound in the hills of Ashland. I made new friends there who invited me to stay with them at their homes whenever I would come to visit. I felt welcomed, but I could not warm up to the Foundation which was a beautiful Ashram set in the midst of a forest. I did not belong there and so I was happy to return to San Francisco where my heart was. I knew I needed to be in the city to pursue my dream of becoming a well known Hollywood actress. Since I was a young child I had known that I was to be a famous movie star one day and that I housed the secret of the most beautiful woman in the world inside me. I will address this later in the book. And, I also knew already as a young child that I was too precious for this world, a sad truth that would later realise itself as would the most beautiful woman of the world.
I have known since my childhood of my charisma, my movie star presence and, in San Francisco at the American Conservatory Theatre, I learned that acting was the most natural thing I had ever done. I loved to transform and step into another character. Accents came easy as did learning other languages in a short period of time. My teachers at the Conservatory as well as my colleagues frequently compared my abilities to those of Meryl Streep. My work on stage apparently reminded them of her. I was definitely a character actress, not some pretty face, and I loved emotional depth. I felt at home playing a wide range of characters and making them my own. I love Meryl Streep’s work and as flattering as such a compliment is, you really want to be known for your own work. I think they liked the projects I chose and the choices I made. It all began with playing Beverly in the Shadow Box and when a director saw me in a school performance playing Edna in Waiting for Lefty I was offered my first engagement in Berkeley which unfortunately never materialised due to the outrageous jealousy and envy of my husband then. Speaking of Meryl Streep, aside from her wonderful talent, she also has a rare gift only few people in this world come with. She has a photographic memory which allows her to recall and learn anything she chooses in a very short period of time. I knew I was born to do this. My music professor back in high school had already told my mother then how talented I was and that I had it all. She did not know how to deal with that. As I was just a kid back then who she constantly criticised and put down on a daily basis. I was too young to recognise how jealous she was of my gifts. I did not wish anyone my childhood. I wished then I had never been born. So, here I was in San Francisco wanting to become an actor and instead I found myself getting closer to the Foundation once all job offers and acting offers had been taken from me. I had reached a dead end and I was in great pain when I accepted an invitation for a celebration at the Foundation on a weekend in June where I ended up staying for six weeks. During that time the preparation for the activation of Kundalini in the human body had been made as I was soon to find out.
I was more than relieved when I left Oregon again to return to San Francisco after such a long stay at the Foundation which turned out to be a very intense time for me. I felt highly uncomfortable for the most part of my stay and the majority of the people there seemed phony and so out of touch with reality, not at all connected to themselves. The Oracle had previously been anointed a Swami in India and while there were attendees who were truly devoted to God, a higher presence in all of us, many of them especially the women, were primarily kissing the Oracle’s arse. They were petrified of her. It was mind boggling how they prostituted themselves. They put up with whatever Ammagi (the Oracle’s name) threw at them – regardless. She could have urinated on them. They would have said thank you. The majority of the women there reminded me of the kind of women who throw themselves at rockstars and Hollywood celebrities, those who do anything just to meet some star, maybe even get to have sex with one of them. How sickening! This was definitely not my world.
Back in town, I barely got settled back in when my sister and her husband showed up at my door. They were visiting from Europe and I had kept them waiting with my late return from Ashland. We took a trip up to Napa Valley, indulged in some wine tasting and very much enjoyed our time together. I was happy that they were here. It temporarily took my mind off of the experiences I had encountered at the Ashram. My sister and her husband left California again after a couple of weeks and I had just got used to being alone again when I was swept off of my feet. An outrageous feeling of love