Grant R. Lambert - Falling Leaf Essences: Vibrational Remedies Using Autumn Leaves

VIBRATIONAL REMEDIES
USING AUTUMN LEAVES

GRANT R. LAMBERT, PH.D.

You apple tree you stand so still,
Naked now against the chill,
Yet again, quite unasked,
Youve shed your leaves, uncloaked, unmasked.
These fallen leaves lay at your feet,
Slowly fading, their work complete,
And you in your wisdom are not one who clings
To what has been, outgrown things.
Barren and dormant, quietly you sleep,
Peaceful, accepting, you do not weep,
With the coming of spring you emerge cleansed and whole,
And bear once again the fruit of your soul.
As day turns to darkness and darkness to light,
So you flow with all changes, you put up no fight,
Your grace at all times, your ease to just be,
Has so much to teach us, you apple tree.

Marilyn Butt

THIS BOOK REPRESENTS THE DISTILLATION of about a decade of thought and research centered on healing and essences. I began working on the conceptual basis for the development of new essence categories in 1988; the actual work in making the falling leaf essences began in 1994. These projects have fascinated, intrigued, and absorbed me such that I never seriously questioned the appropriateness of getting involved in them. From the outset, I have had a strong sense that both the conceptual and practical aspects of falling leaf essences are an essential part of my life journey. Many thousands of hours have gone into these projects over that decade of time.

There are two different aspects of essences that continue to intrigue me. The first is their potential as relatively safe, inexpensive, and powerful agents in healing. This aspect will be developed fully in this book. The second is their existence in the first place. According to the worldview of materialistic science, essences ought not to exist. I am faced with the curious contradiction that I have spent the past fifteen years exploring in detail a phenomenon that does not exist according to the establishment! Either I have spent a decade and a half wandering in a fantastically detailed and consistent but completely imaginary world, or in fact essences do exist. If essences do exist, then the implications for science and for our concept of the world, how it came to be, and our place within it all go through a considerable revolution. The manner in which our emerging understanding of essences changes our view of the universe and of ourselves might indeed be the topic for a future book.

As I reflect upon this work about the falling leaf essences, four aspects stand out in my mind. The first is the immense enjoyment I have derived from both the conceptual and the practical aspects of falling leaf essences. They have given me many unforgettable moments of magic. I will never forget the first color diagrams of falling leaf essence action that I drew, on a card table set up in the garden in spring, the sun filtering through the trees above. It was a moment in which the quality of the environment and the thrill of creativity expressed in color came together in a kind of ecstasy. Years later, I am still excited and amazed by the thought of it. Wonder and magic also surround the trip to Bright in 1994, which I describe in chapter 3 of this book. Words somehow fall far short of describing the sense of spiritual purpose and unity with nature and spirit that descended upon me in that place. A third emotionally evocative image is of the Oak Lawn at the Royal Botanical Gardens in Melbourne, Australia, in autumn. The Royal Botanical Gardens has a magnificent array of mature oak trees. As I was collecting specimens of fallen oak leaves one autumn, a group of schoolchildren on a field trip were playing on the carpet of fallen leaves. As they played, picking up handfuls of leaves and scattering them in gay abandon, a wonderful union began to take place. It was as if these children, in the spring of their life, were joining together in an ecstatic dance with the autumn leaves. Spring and autumn became one; it seemed as if the leaves danced of their own accord with the children. I remember this experience as the dance of the falling leaves.

The second memorable aspect of the falling leaf project has been the assistance it has given me in restoring my own creativity. Unfortunately, in order to become educated and then highly educated, it became necessary for me to suppress key aspects of my own thinking and my own being. Although I value my education and what I have gained from it, the downside was the need to conform to the teachers way of thinking in order to get top marks. The few times that I expressed what I really thought, I was punished severely by the examiners marks, which ensured even greater suppression and conformity.

By the time I became a university student in the mid-1970s, I had developed a coping mechanism that enabled me to attain a bachelors degree in biochemistry and subsequently a Ph.D. in the same field from the Australian National University in Canberra, at twenty-four years of age. I now look upon that coping mechanism as a kind of intellectual schizophrenia. It consisted of regurgitating back to professors exactly what they wanted to hear or read and keeping my own thinking and interpretation entirely inner, unspoken, and unwritten. To think that the pressure to conform was any less when I was a doctoral student as when I was an undergraduate would be entirely delusional.

The stress of maintaining this intellectual schizophrenia was probably one of the triggers for the chronic fatigue syndrome from which I suffered from 1983 through 1987. This illness, and my recovery from it, brought many changes in my life. One certainty that emerged was that I would not go back to work in a university environment again. For a young, successful scientist who had been the primary author on scientific papers published in journals as prestigious as the Proceedings of the National Academy of Science, this was a bittersweet pill to swallow. The sweet aspect was that, being no longer employed by a university, I was actually free to think and express myself as I wanted.

Thus I began my studies in natural therapies and, in particular, homeopathy, which had been instrumental in my recovery from chronic fatigue syndrome. I soon found that healing was a fascinating realm for the development of ideas, concepts, and new treatments. It has certainly taken many years for me to gain the courage and conviction to venture forth openly with my ideas. I keep expecting the familiar heavy rod of punishment, even when nowadays I search for it in vain. I do not find punishment, but I do find a great deal of apathy and apparent refusal to think about the healing process and essences in particular. It is no secret that as an inventor of new ideas and products in the realm of essences, one meets enormous resistance.

The first time that I spoke publicly to a group of people concerning falling leaf essences was a thrilling, engaging, stimulating, and terrifying experience. Having acquitted myself admirably on the day, I then proceeded to undergo several weeks of intense inner change. It felt as though taking that which for decades had been inner, secret, unspoken, and unwritten and proclaiming it openly, like a trumpeter from a public platform, was enough to turn me upside down and inside out.

Third, the work presented in this book has been extremely demanding on many levels. To omit this point would be to impart an imbalanced picture of the situation. The vast majority of research projects in the modern era are funded either by governments or by large corporations. As a research scientist, I have worked under both such funding arrangements. The problem with either situation is that the body controlling the purse strings also controls the research. The controlling body generally requires that regular reports be submitted in order for the worthiness of giving future funding to the project to be assessed. On one level, this might be considered simply good financial management. On another level, it can be quite a diabolical manipulation. Whats assessed is not just whether progress is being made, but also whether this progress is to the ideological or economic liking of the funding body.