Linda Hampton's World

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Linda Hampton's World

The aim is to teach, remind, encourage awareness of Self. Following the ‘Wise Woman’ tradition
Linda Hampton M.A.

Spiritual Illuminator, Medium,
Occultist, Visionary & Author. All the above means I deal with:
*Throwing ‘light’ on who and what you are! Via Counselling I assist with …
- People / Sensitives having difficulties
with life and ….
- Parents with psychic or sensitive
- Children (i.e. children using their senses
in different ways from parents)
- Reassuring the bereaved via mediumship and info’ on the afterlife.
- Geopathic Stress / excess radiation,
- Attachments in Auric field, Presences (ghosts) and similar problems.
- Clean-up of properties etherically (local, national and internationally).
- And generally dealing with the unexplained … including the ‘heavy duty’ side of life, like Matuku, Curses, Exorcisms and concepts people like me are traditionally known for dealing with.

08/01/2026

“The 12th day of Christmas has gone; festive celebrations are over, and I am back to serious work, as is Jessie Cat, who is out, checking on everything from birds to ants, being major-domo (head of household).
Over the last six months especially I have been aware of an increase in those developing senses used when communicating with animals. It is an extension of the senses natural to all, an indicator of the way humans are moving into the new. By ‘new’ I mean living WITH our Earth and those in/on it; an important move towards that harmonious existence all peace-loving people want.
Note I qualify who wants peace and harmony, because not all want to live as such, there are those who want competitiveness beyond balance, and those who appear to thrive on anarchy. The latter usually for commercial/monetary or selfish gain. This world is a melting-pot, where we balance our excesses with a view to understanding not just others, but ourselves.
You are beholden to find what makes your senses ‘bleem’ contentment, whilst envisioning possible happiness with respect for others’ needs. That path is the ‘Karmic Path’; your senses were tuned to it before coming here. Karma is not retribution it is balance … understanding the result of one’s choices at soul level, not incarnational level - accountability.
If you are in a job you hate, one that brings in the money but makes you feel trapped, then you are doing a con job on yourself. You are saying, “I will not get another job with this much renumeration.” Humans are great at self-propaganda. So, you stick at making money your prime focus.
I was working as a single in my late teens. I solved the fiscal problem and dislike of the jobs I landed in by changing them until I had one I liked, ending up with an employer who used to sing a verse of Gilbert & Sullivan operetta to me on Monday mornings as he came in the door. (He was in the chorus of the local D’Oyly Carte Opera theatre.) An accountant who loved people … we rubbed along very well despite both being extremely individualistic. I left his employment to travel to G.B., for a year with my British husband, came back and got another dead-end job. Six months later I was on my second job when C.W., having heard I was back from U.K. (Dunedin was small) rang me at work and said, “Do you want a job?” I said, “Yes,” immediately … handed in my notice, and worked with him for another year until he retired and I had my first child. I was sole charge in his accountancy office despite hating maths of any sort. I audited people, balanced profit and loss sheets, and kept the office clean. He smoked a pipe, and I am convinced he could have filled his pipe with what spilled and lurked under his cushion weekly. C.W. Harper was a gentleman of the first order whom I respected and loved.
Imagine a community of people who follow their dreams, who take the odd risk by leaving a toxic environment for something better. A community populated by those who can communicate with animals, follow their dreams, all whilst retaining an awareness of others’ needs. I am scanning the horizon!
January is the month of ‘beginnings’, of fresh thoughts, innovative ideas. It is your karmic needs that will lead you to your passion, because it is the path that feels right. Some of you will be organisers for others dreams, facilitators for health and wellbeing, some working at home producing whatever, or being the one who aligns with another, being the ‘girl/boy Friday’, helping another with their dreams thereby fulfilling yours by being the helper. My motto is ‘Be useful happily’. There, end of lecture … indicates my enthusiasm for 2026.
Jessie wanders in having surveyed the property, checking up on me. We are coming out of a difficult relationship period; she has received a few lectures on behaviour. Her response - disappear and/or increase eye scrunching – she hates lectures in ‘that’ voice, but behaviour has improved – I am still applying the ‘scratch and bite’ ointment.
Several phone consults with clients this week, all diverse in character, but all with an inner need to stretch themselves beyond 2025 expectations. Oddly, having an auric bug (attachment) is something all had in common; it effectively pushed them to make that phone call to get rid of it, and unwittingly introduced themselves to possibilities. One had a talent for crystal ‘lore’ and another a very talented artist.
Stepping beyond the known is difficult, because the “what if” appears in one’s brain creating fear of failure. I too have had to stretch beyond the expected; working in new fields, which lead to where I am now, happily working with people inviting/encouraging them to follow their dreams.”
Linda

Media: Melissa Scott-Miller - Self-Portrait with a Background of Summer, Back Gardens, 2018.

01/01/2026

“This is ‘in-between time (between Christmas and New Year) when tension in the city and suburbs relaxes, due to enough people having a few days without work, meaning the intense focus on Christmas releases like a helium balloon, leaving a temporary peace. I decided to use it for taking in some intense nature vibes at Riccarton House, whose grounds have a protected native bush sanctuary. Recently there has been work done in the sanctuary, replacing and extending the walk-boards. Needed checking out.
Families were picnicking under the trees, and one family was playing softball. I walked past the large wooden colonial house and the rose garden to the sanctuary. I was only one of many walking the trail, but enough room between groups to blend with the vibe. Nature Spirits were positively bleaming and I spread the bonne amie by saying ‘Morning” to everyone who passed me, of which there were many, cos’ I was dawdling. Most looked me in the eye and responded in kind, others muttered, heads lowered and one group ignored me – they probably did not know I was not an axe murderer! I was a grandmotherly confection in pink, with sensible shoes and equally sensible shoulder bag.
I smiled, when walking back to the car, feeling as though I had been to a vibe spa. Up ahead one Asian couple, obviously tourists, looked undecided about life … I decided to torture. “Hi, the nature walk is down past the house … it is worth a visit,” I said helpfully. Blank stares, then smiles and careful selection of words, which included “wait” and “grandchildren.” “Ah,” I suddenly understood their self-conscious loitering. I stepped back with a finger in the air marking the point, “Important.” We parted with smiles and the odd bow, me striding out and them a little less huddled, the picture of relief at having negotiated conversation with a native.
Acknowledging people when walking is something my parents did, or rather mother, Pop only walked when chided or guilt tripped by mother, and usually before eating a meal, meaning it was best to follow - one had to wait for her to return anyway.
She came from a moderately sized extended family with maiden aunts willing to walk the ‘youngsters’ all over Dunedin. Mother was fit, something we took for granted, so it was a surprise when she contracted Parkinsons Disease. She lived long after the diagnosis landed, because she was healthy … her body wound down rather than succumbing to the Parkinsons. In her final months she made a friend – a nurse who took time when tending to needs, using her intuition when responding to mother’s humour, despite her lack of speech. Mother worked right to the end, by being herself.
All the above brings me to longevity; did not aim for it, it just appeared as a pathway. Death! Thank goodness the necessity for wearing traditional black at funerals has gone. It moved to cocktail parties, then social occasions generally. Ever been to a ‘cocktail party’? One could be forgiven for assuming the guests had just come from a memorial service. The dress code has relaxed in NZ, but a warning to travellers heading for Europe – “Pack a little something formal.” Old World tradition still holds sway in Europe.
Well, the path to longevity passed with only vague comment, what is next? Ah, clients. We travelled together through Christmas … most had the usual auric attachment problem, apart from a real estate person who wanted half a dozen properties checked out for energy glitches left by previous owners. Then there is the post-exorcism client adjusting to life without an ‘extra.’ And the woman stressing about travelling overseas, attracting etheric bugs like fly paper in a meat locker. “I have to see a doctor to ask whether I am going cuckoo,” she states blandly. “Hey,” I said, “You are talking to an Occultist … I’m regarded as major cuckoo, until my skills are needed.” She laughed. “Besides,” I added, “judgement depends on the age of the person judging. By 55 years the one judging has found the rule book was written by a 28-year-old Muggle with an age complex, looking to make a quick buck, and 55 years is when G.P.s wonder whether they should have gone the psychology route at Med School.” Think I cured one of her woes. ‘In-between time’ is difficult for worriers, not enough background noise, i.e. other people stressing – stress togetherness.
I poke one brother who is supposed to be checking the family history manuscript for fibs. “Haven’t looked at it yet,” he said cheerfully, forgetting I am older than him, i.e. I might die before he focuses on it … there, I passed the entrance to the longevity subject, again! May 2026 be full of humour, i.e. balance.”
Linda

Media: Paul Peel - The Young Botanist, 1888-90.

25/12/2025

“Apart from a tendency to want to shriek at Santa, both in adverts and the mall variety, and resisting setting fire to plastic holly, I am gliding up to Christmas with serenity. Clients are still contacting me, which is unusual as that usually slows to a stop in December; the activity makes the days fly by.
However, a café date with a friend brought almost brought public tears of joy. It concerned a joint friend of many years ago, an American woman, Maddy, who was a little lost at the time we knew her.
The romance started when Maddy was walking on the Christchurch Port Hills and rested on a bench overlooking the harbour. Another walker, already on the bench, made a comment on the view. Al was American too, and from that meeting a love affair blossomed.
They returned to the USA, he first and her finally after overcoming her fear of flying, that had kept her in NZ, and a lot of soul searching. That was where I entered the story – she was my client.
They married in the US and settled down happily. He, an academic, loved performing standup comedy and writing Hiku poetry. She, a creature of nature, extra ordinarily sensitive, but with surprising inner strength for what mattered.
There were ups and downs as love affairs have, just like the movies, but they loved each other and that over-rode all problems. Then he retired with the onset of Multiple Sclerosis and over the many years as his health gradually failed she nursed him. He died, and she having kept in touch over the years with me asked if I could see him in Spirit. He was instantly beside me talking quickly, urging me to start typing. That started a dialogue of love, this time roles were reversed with him supporting her, especially when some months after he passed, she learnt she had bone cancer. Treatment was offered and Maddy weighed her options. She asked Al for advice and he firmly said it was her decision.
Bravely, she declared she would take pain medication, nothing else, death weas preferable - she wanted to be with Al. Every month when she wrote to me, he was there beside me chivvying me to answer her, like an impatient adolescent waiting for Christmas, although I had warned Al that he had to hold back on some things … that caused him much amusement.
The love affair continued as he assured her over and over he was right beside her. As the cancer progressed she questioned his ability to be present, to still love her and he patiently, through me, knocked down every doubt she had. Then he said, “It will not be long now before we are together,” and a few weeks later our dialogue stopped. She had been bedridden for some time - the cancer had taken over. Silence reigned. No longer could she hold the computer on her chest nor lift her hand to type. I did not know when she died. Months passed after the last message, then the café date.
My friend and I were sitting side by side watching the other patrons, as we were want to do, whilst talking. I mentioned Maddie by saying, “I feel she has died.” My friend, a Sensitive, agreed. And suddenly there in front of me, superimposed against the cafés activity were Al and Maddie, arms around each other, smiling at us both. They were the picture of health and smiling wide smiles. Then Maddie pulled out the hem of her pullover. “She is showing her pullover, it is brown, undyed; she is looking at you,” I said. “Ah,” said my friend, “That will be the one I knitted her. She did my garden for weeks to thank me for it. We enjoyed her gentle presence.”
I left the café with memories of Al and Maddy crowding my mind; the sight of those two standing there, reunited, so happy, was to stay with me for weeks.
Their love story would make an amazing movie, filled with humour, tension and disappointment as they adjusted to each-others life, culture and needs; triumph as love conquered all, through sickness and health. I was honoured to be the in-between (medium).
Visiting the Ohoka Market, on the other side of town, is the plan tomorrow. Purchasing of a few organic veggies, perhaps potatoes, although I have a few in the garden … a sampling of a stall-holders olive oil, coupled with admiration of someone’s craft expertise. It will trigger a need to purchase another gift for someone – needed or otherwise. The feeling of community will be just what is needed – it is Christmas after all, hopefully no plastic holly, or worse, a Santa lurking!”
Linda

Media: Gustav Klimt - The Kiss, 1907-1908

18/12/2025

“My Blue Heron neighbours have moved their nesting further along the road. Cannot help feeling a comment has been made on my neighbourliness, or lack. Birds occupy a good part of my life and we compete for fruit, e.g. the plum tree has been stripped of all its fruit – they do not share. Judging by the lack of ripeness I am secretly sure there are a few sore feathered tummies. It will be a dash to the other fruiting trees this season.
A healing of a client with a therapist (joint healing) highlighted the connection between trauma and the etheric bug currently causing difficulties, resulting in our client being ‘bugged’ constantly. She was duly debugged, as were two participants featuring in her trauma still, despite time and distance. The preventative auric pheromone is holding for many, although trauma weakens that in some, over time. Gradually, inch by inch, we healers are discovering the characteristics of this etheric bug we simply call ‘an attachment.’ A title aimed at allaying fear of what most see as ‘the scary unknown’.
There is no statute of limitations for healing and a healer must, in this healing environment, be willing to revisit/delve into a client’s historical memories, combining those with intuition (the healer’s), especially regarding their client’s other-lives. Those lives hold trauma that resonates in the current incarnation … it must as that is how Karma travels between lives. Healing trauma in those lives aids the move toward balance in current time. Discovering the ‘seeds’ is not difficult as a client’s likes, dislikes, phobias etc. always hold clues. Healing, a limitless subject defying perceived time limitations.
However, all that is too serious for a blog days before Christmas and to that end I tried some ‘Linda humour’ on a client who sends gift vouchers via mail as payment for services. She had said, “Santa is visiting you.” Translation: ‘I have sent you a gift voucher.’ So, when she asked if I had received it, I jokingly said, “Yes, I went to the post box, tackled Santa and sat on his tummy making him hand over the letter.” There was dead silence, then a small tentative enquiry about my meaning. Explaining a joke is the most soul-destroying task. Her response when enlightened was, “Oh.” I pictured an accompanying weak, puzzled smile.
Let us face it, Santa Clause is an oddity and we make sure his oddity increases with multiple Santas in malls and stores, all with beards that would not fool an amoeba let alone a child, and I have not started on the costume. I think it is a rite of passage for men over sixty to get into the red suit and don the cotton/sheep wool beard. Even my father had the suit handed to him one year ... Santa with brown spectacles performing the gift giving for a Masonic Lodge ‘do’ … not a child in sight.
However, for me this year’s major oddity was a calendar – one depicting n**e gardeners. I had ordered two, with floral pictures, from the ‘Soil & Health Assn,’ or thought I had One I was a gift for a relative.
I put the floral calendar down with pleasure after a quick flick through, then stared, bewildered, at the other. I addressed Jessie Cat, “It seems we have a nudie calendar Jessie.” She did not respond overly much, apart from a tail flick. She does not wear clothing, more like underarm hair that grew to cover all, so understanding was lacking.
I flicked through it, thinking perhaps I could use it and gift the floral one, until I got to September. Miss Leigh in her berry farm was on hands and knees showing well rounded buttocks … I believe they are called ‘booty’ in some places. Sorry Leigh, I cannot have you on my wall for September’s 30 days. I can understand the reasoning behind replicating ‘Calendar Girls 2003’ of movie fame; fire fighters have done it successfully, as have others; somehow this version did not quite ‘pull it off’ to my eye. Perhaps it is the organic bit. One could explore that line of enquiry with lots of puns/limericks ….
Too late to ask for a swap, besides part of my purchase was a donation. Admittedly a good conversation piece though – will have to be discerning about where it ends up - perhaps memory box, i.e. burial. The Salvation Army would not understand the ‘message’, so that route is out. Bodies can be problematic.
I go swimming once a week at a local pool, at a time when men and women my age (65 yrs plus), and members of the Military are the prime users. The contrast between wrinkly bodies, and those honed by disciplined workouts lead by a Sargent Major, is marked. But the worst part is getting oneself dry in a sticky humid atmosphere. And you thought you had problems!
For those anticipating a family Christmas I wish you peace, and tolerance of those sharing your DNA. For those celebrating alone, I wish you peaceful reflection … remember there is always Buddha’s birthday to look forward to ….
Wishing you all Perspective.”
Blessings Be
Linda

Media: Lynn Bywaters - Christmas Parade, 2013.

11/12/2025

“I woke to the sound of distressed sheep being moved into the yard and paddocks around me. Sheep sorting time when tense men, dogs, and stock transport create an organised chaos. Several hours later I was left with grieving ewes missing their lambs, amongst those who still had theirs (deemed undersize), until dusk when landlord moved the flock further into the farm.
The phone rang. A mother of a child with an auric attachment – a nasty. This little boy knew it was there and told his mum, describing its activity. He had been reticent though, delaying, because he knew this was not something people talked of … too ‘different’; he wanted to fit in (children do), hoped it would just go away. I removed the bug, then his mum and I had a little talk about a narrative being initiated and him taking control.
A few days before a telephone conversation had gone askew. A client, whose land I had cleared and balanced weeks earlier, is having a long-held argument with a neighbour; both responsible for odd, unacceptable behaviour that made the neighbourly ‘relationship’ degrade. This woman wanted me to ‘deal’ with her neighbour – wanting her neighbour ‘stopped’, no matter how.
“The legal path or arbitration is your only avenue,” I said firmly. “Can’t, I do not have any money.” I had suspected her drift earlier in our conversation, but now saw clearly where she was heading. I was clear, “I do not cross that line, I do not use that sort of energy.” She was silent, then pathos, “I am suffering.” She was either deaf or convinced she could persuade me. I repeated my earlier statement, then, “I am sorry but I cannot help you.” And hung up.
Very rare I get asked to take a route down the Dark side of Occultism. People are usually more sensible. She though was willing to push her neighbour into the unknown, a dark chasm, the nasty side of existence - violence.
Immediately after another client rang with a ‘breath of fresh air’ request, effectively pushing away the lingering nastiness, the conversation had triggered interest from the unwanted side.
It was a week of interesting, insightful conversations with clients and friends. One client whose son had been our focus for a couple of years described how he (father) had moved into researching subjects I had mentioned during conversations, discovering things that answered the odd question. Questions not even fully formed, just hanging like shadows in his mind, as though sketchy pathways lingered with fragile substance. The consciousness is extraordinary, ‘turning light’ onto yet more possibilities seemingly beyond our reach, into understanding ourselves and our world; the ‘magic’ of being spirit. All we need is the willingness to stretch beyond what human logic says is a limit and allow a possibility, acceptance of more. Allow the mind to seep into corners, opening ….
I discussed the nature spirits residing in a particular place here in Christchurch, with someone who regularly walks this spot. Photographs had been taken and I was reminded of how they can display more than expected to a Sensitive. One can watch the scene move, reveal itself as time shifts, untrammelled by human dictates. Rather like Scrying.
The best way to describe it is via the J.K.Rowling’s Harry Potter films, wherein portraits and newspaper pictures one sees the subject move, defying time. I am sure Ms Rowling channelled parts of those books, mixing them with marvellous writing abilities, which continued beyond Harry Potter.
However, we were discussing the walkway, a piece of protected NZ bush within Christchurch City, where nature spirits are willing to engage. A unique place where earthly ‘magic’ exists aided by human guardians encouraging meditative walks. Riccarton Bush is a popular place, being alone is not a given.
A visit to the coast is looming large in my mind. The energy from the surf is great for interrupting the mind’s hamster-on-the-wheel tendencies. Mind you, serious garden reflection can be just as effective. Choices.
Jessie Cat wanders through, checking up on me and seeking a location for her morning nap, or entertainment – the latter secures the former. A human sitting computing is boring, not a spectator sport – I am dismissed.
A North Island prospective client, a Sensitive emerging from Muggledom, has learnt I do ‘remote viewing’ when working on people and land. She had enquired ‘whether I travel a lot’. “Lovely idea,” I said, “but I do not leave my office.” I can feel her mind questioning, “Really?” It may take a week or months for a decision to be made – new ideas take time to settle and for this woman it will open possibilities within - change.”
Linda

Raymond Wintz - The Blue Door, 1927.

04/12/2025

“It is 9am and already a super-efficient day. A friend/client (bit of both) rang a few minutes ago and opened the conversation by asking how I was. I told him, much to his discombobulation. He did not get the usual, “I’m fine” he got truth, causing him to wonder if he should present his problem.
His concern was about a tooth with problems. “When I meditate one tooth gets very painful, why.” Good question.
During meditation the nervous system goes into ‘a state of exposure’, because the body’s main identity is off doing something else. In effect the creative bit, the mind, having exited the body and left the ‘child’ (body) without a babysitter, the tooth’s nerves get to yell with no interference, and not surprisingly sometimes we get called back from our zap around the Universe to ‘listen’.
We cover up, ignore, and/or generally supress the body’s messages, which is often, “Hey you, we have a problem.” ‘We’ are either not interested because we have an appointment, or something we want to do, so put off engaging fully with the body’s yelling. Or the dental appointment has been made and we must wait for it to come around, so we accept the pain creating a suppression effect, survival reaction. Trouble occurs when we accept pain or discomfort long term without making the ‘appointment’.
The body keeps trying to communicate, but the brain/mind does an ‘over-ride’, deciding it is manageable for the time being, or we tell ourselves it is normal for bodies to be uncomfortable, or just unimportant. The result is loss of connection to our body and health suffers. Bodies are not wimps they are part of the senses broadcast system. Pays to listen. Use or lose.
I flung open all the doors and windows today expecting hot weather only to find it remained cool. I closed all the doors and most windows, and consulted the internet weather report, only to be told what I already knew … it was cool. It is official then, I can be cool knowing I am not odd, nor out of step with everyone/thing else. Confirmation. What did we do before internet? Perhaps we made our own decision about the weather … “Hey it is cool today.”
The day is betting older and I am still being truthful. I look at the diary … who else will be in contact today? Ah someone at 1pm. I have three hours to reform.
A client broke up with her lover because he was a ‘dickhead’ (her description) and married. But she had difficulty accepting the status, cos’ he was an other-life reconnection. The ‘what ifs’ started, on both sides, with social media posts being examined for clues to the others emotional state. “Does he think of me.” (Posts indicated he was.) Friends on both sides were involved with the ‘Likes’ etc. Then he posted a picture of himself in a suit, a power picture, so she responded in kind, only it was of her fully naked; a dark silhouette leaning languidly, provocatively, in a doorway, tasteful. Effectively she had raised one finger. I decided I was not needed, she had it sorted, … sort of.
Jessie has wandered in wondering why the fire was not on – “It is cool”, I say. Her body spots are obvious now as her winter coat is almost fully shed. I tell her she is beautiful, she scrunches eyes and departs, things to do.
The following day I had a rebellion moment after lunch and stopped ‘doing stuff’, which spread until the afternoon was gone. Felt okay – when selective with feelings.
The day after was swimming, and catching up on the previous day’s chores! It is all Earth Stress … and in trying to avoid the weirdness I was in danger of adding to it.
Text messages continue to wing their way from parts of NZ, most regarding auric attachments … nasty etheric bugs. A Sensitive with attachment having a melt-down in a Hospital; his dad texts. A few people concerned with their weirdness and thereby their future; they feel something is compromised, but cannot put their finger on cause. Advice: own your weirdness – usually sign of abrupt change, a new normality will settle in. ‘Far Memory’ is normal these days, part of the senses accelerating a little, assimilation is usually around the corner.
Admittedly dangerous people do inhabit eras, e.g. Hippies, The Beatles, then Lycra – all adult concerns in 1960s/70s. Men wore their shirts unbuttoned to within two buttons from the waist showing bare chests with ‘danglers’ (medallions on shiny chains). Fear of nuclear anything was rife; youth did not trust adults to run the world, and said so, via loud unmusical music; a drum kit, a guitar backing you – fame could beckon!
Worries did not dissipate, creating a mushroom cloud of disaffection with leadership … ourselves. Currently we still enable the nasties, whomever, wherever – traditional behaviour. Bloomin’ heck where is the chocolate?”
Linda

Cori Lee Marvin - Singers, 2013.

27/11/2025

I was hunting the ‘gluten free’ shelves of the supermarket, a periodic activity; I find the odd new product suitable for a Sensitive’s tender gut can appear. I stopped abruptly unwittingly assuming the posture of a hunting dog ‘pointing’ at a dead duck … there … bottles with ‘Bloating …’ on them. Remedies to mask stomach bloating after eating. My mouth had fallen open – shock; someone was hawking a product to cover symptoms of digestive disfunction. What! Bloating after eating is a sign of poor food management, a sign the body is having difficulty digesting gluten, preservatives, whatever, it is never food generally, it is specific. The remedy is to stop eating that causing the bloating, taking a commercial remedy to overcome what one’s body trying to tell you is gross negligence … beyond daffy … even serious future gut woes.
In some instances, the gluten intolerance thing can be related to specific glutens. Sometimes avoiding conventional wheat, e.g. trying Spelt flour (an ancient wheat grain not interfered with by hybridising) can substitute. However, the main solution to solving the problem is abstinence from wheat-based foods. Also, not a bad solution is you are overweight – mother always said, “Dieting is silly, just stop eating bread.” I can affirm that old homily.
I was getting stomach bloat many years ago, so went off wheat, which solved my problems, until my daughter got married in Turkey. I went, only to find Turkish flat bread was served at every meal, could not avoid it in the region where I was. I braced for the discomfort, but my body did not react, no bloating. Obviously, a different flour variety from NZ bakers, and/or sourdough used.
I now buy Spelt from a supermarket chain when I must use flour. I note a supermarket chain is an outlet for a local Christchurch baker who uses some organic Spelt for one type of sourdough loaf. Their blurb confirms what I have found – sourdough is easier on the gut.
Do your own experimentation, research. And I allow that alternatives can be more expensive than using commercial bread, but so are bottles of bloating remedies. If you feel stuck make Lentil Bread – the internet is full of recipes and lentils are cheap. Lentil buns can be made in a covered fry-pan on top of the stove. AND saying “I am male” and/or “I do not cook” is no excuse for not doing some research/experimentation, at least.
The European diet is not the only foody culture – Eastern traditions are illuminating - info is out there. A tip: check out the ‘Two Raw Sisters’ web site. Their books are awesome and they are NZers, meaning they use NZ ingredients.
This last week had been dominated by a hedge cutter. Two huge blades both almost as big as me rotate at speed; attached to the side of a strange conical shaped machine traveling alongside the hedge. The local community memory can always dish out a tragic story related to those machines.
I had fallen asleep late afternoon (unintentional of course). A ‘whap, whap, whap’, noise woke me – getting closer. Even momentary befuddled with sleep I knew what that was, the hedge cutter was on the property. Blow, my trailer was in his way if he wanted to do my side of the huge macrocarpa hedge. I shot outside, then back inside as fast, as hedge shrapnel flew over the hedge hitting the roof and house. No good getting bruises or worse from airborne hedge pieces.
I waited for the machine to go quiet, then cautiously went out to the yard with the aim of waylaying the driver, only to see him driving out the gate – he had finished for the day. His machine was parked in the yard next to the hay barn. Blow. Ah, but it did mean he was coming back tomorrow.
Next day I arose at 6:30am, dressed, washed, and went out to the yard ready to discuss a little detour. I blinked, the hedge cutter was on the move, heading down the inner farm track. Earlier riser
I tried once more and missed, then spent the next few days listening to the distant noise of his machine doing the far paddock wind-breaks. – that man was nippy or intuitively alert to scheming females. Plan B needed to be actioned … when I invent it. Incidentally no name on side of his machine!
A woman of 96 years rings, strong elegant voice/energy. She is on a mission regarding a friend. She is open to my work and we discuss how I can help her. Work straightforward … the discussion on travel was memorable.
Another woman, seeking someone to remove an older relative’s auric attachment. Seemingly the family had decided it involved travelling to the country of origin for a cure!!? A daughter (2nd generation NZ’er) had other ideas, hence the call.”
Linda

Diego Riviera - The Flower Seller, 1957.

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Following the ‘Wise Woman’ tradition Linda Hampton M.A. Spiritual Illuminator, Medium, Occultist, Visionary & Author. All the above means I deal with: *Throwing ‘light’ on who and what you are! Via Counselling I assist with … - People / Sensitives having difficulties with life and …. - Parents with psychic or sensitive - Children (i.e. children using their senses in different ways from parents) - Reassuring the bereaved via mediumship and info’ on the afterlife. - Geopathic Stress / excess radiation, - Attachments in Auric field, Presences (ghosts) and similar problems. - Clean-up of properties etherically (local, national and internationally). - And generally dealing with the unexplained … including the ‘heavy duty’ side of life, like Matuku, Curses, Exorcisms and concepts people like me are traditionally known for dealing with.