The 21st Century Wounded Healer: An Autobiography


In Heaven, between incarnations, I was kicking back with my buddies in the bar at Alpha-7 in the Arcturus Star System knocking back an industrial strength drink the likes of which has never been known on Planet  Earth. As the evening grew into early morning, we began to exhibit the false bravado often found at the bottom of a booze glass. Well, I guess I started to regale the crowd with some of my exploits. Okay, okay, maybe I wandered a little far afield on some of the details, but look at my uniform. Just how do you think I got these medals and ribbons anyway?


A bunch of glocadytes were just back from acting in the Star Wars films. (You saw them in the bar scenes.) So they got to talking about Planet Earth and some of the weird stuff going on there. So that reminded me of my experiences on Earth back in Atlantean days.


“Don’t tell me they are still up to the same old crap there? We tried to save them back in Atlantis. We shared technology and activated lightbodies to take them into the Fifth Dimension. It was a total fiasco. Well, they just blew up the whole goddamned place; yeah! They did. I’m tempted to go back there and kick butt. This time there would be a different outcome, believe me.”


About that time the glocadytes started taunting me and throwing around  double-dog dare ya” and “Put your money where your mouth is.” They knew that this always hooks me.


Well, the gist of it was that when I woke up the next morning with one bitch of a hangover, I see on my refrigerator door some official looking papers under my favorite magnet. It was a contract to incarnate on Earth and basically clean up the place and get them over to the Fifth Dimension. I apparently signed it with my DNA sample and in that Star System this is irreversibly binding. So off to Earth it was, baby.



As a certified master Lightworker, a commitment is a commitment so I set about mapping out Project Planet Earth in all seriousness. First I consulted with my High Teacher/Advisers and God! Were they ever out of shape over this one. No way were they giving their blessing. It was too risky. However, I really prefer only high stakes games and besides, I would show those smart ass glocadytes. The bets were down, and if I pulled it off, there were some extremely unpleasant consequences involved for the losers.


I was intelligent and experienced enough to know that this was a job for a large group, not just me on my own. We made an assessment of the present circumstances on Earth. Lets not get hysterical or anything, but there was a lot of silent beard stroking, eyebrow raising and blood-drained faces. I was suddenly seized with the realization that this was a colossal mistake and that the whole thing was hopeless. That nasty stuff the glocadytes had to do when they lost the bet? I now saw MYSELF in that humiliating position.


We realized that this would require extensive experience out in the field so that motivated our long earth incarnations. We were Arcturians, but we developed a fondness and true admiration for humanity and the human spirit. With an eye on the astrological patterns and the Mayan calendar, the 21st century rolled around and……….WE WERE READY.


I entered my parents’ life on a farm in Iowa on a 30-degree below zero evening in February 1936 and they named me Diana Lee. I forgot everything about my long ago drunken braggadocio about cleaning up Earth. I had rolled the dice and gambled that I would eventually wake up and remember. One quirk of Diana’s life is that she has the worst luck in any kind of gambling, fishing, looking in phone booth slots for money, etc. Yup, I only play high stakes games.


Our analysis revealed that the United States of America was sort of the New Atlantis. Yet the place was off the rails in many of the culture’s institutions. So my group who incarnated with me did so within the energy of the Earth’s Wounded Healer Archetype for the 21st century.


The conventional medical establishment was killing citizens off like flies and most people were asleep, so that was our chosen target. My first disaster with a medical doctor was when I was 21 years old and pregnant for the first time. I began to hemorrhage and called my physician. He told me every pregnant woman “sees a little blood” and not to worry.  Two weeks of severe hemorrhaging and repeated calls to the doctor preceded the miscarriage. It probably saved my life. I would have bled to death. What did I know then? The doctor came to the house and accused me of aborting myself.


I have Rh negative blood and after losing two babies shortly after their birth, I decided my one surviving son was enough. Years later some doctors initiated a research project to come up with something for Rh mothers and their newborns. A call went out for multiple birth Rh women to donate blood to this project. I went into the labs twice a month for a year. A pint of blood was taken. By a centrifugal process one part of the blood was spun out and the remainder returned intravenously. That process was repeated 2-3 times and took several hours. I amused the medical staff by doing their astrological charts. The outcome was an injection that is given to Rh mothers immediately after birth eliminating this problem. How many mothers are spared the loss of their babies and how many otherwise doomed babies live to grow up and have a normal life?  The Wounded Healer notched the belt.


Without totally documenting a very long list of disastrous encounters with the medical profession, it is apparent in retrospect that I was growing increasingly disillusioned with conventional medicine. But what else was there? A very painful low back problem took me by ambulance to the hospital on several occasions. I was prescribed tranquilizers, pain killers, hot packs and muscle relaxants. I am married to a chiropractor now and realize that my sacroiliac was out of alignment. I could have been spared a lot of pain by a few chiropractic adjustments. However, I lived in a University town with a big medical complex and there was not going to be any chiropractors there. They claimed it was all quackery. I was going deeper into the Wound and I was still in my twenties.


The birth control pill became available at the University hospitals and with my bad experience with childbearing; the doctor prescribed it for me. There were no abortions then. The first month on The Pill sent me around the bend. I had crying fits. I was horribly depressed. I had strange urges to run away from home and work in obscurity as a waitress in Atlanta. For this, the doctor put me on diuretics, which I took every day for eight years along with the Pill.


That is when the back problems started and this, in turn, was followed by a breakdown of the hormonal system. That was in the early 1960s. At that point I was bedridden with unbearable pain in my neck. I was taking thyroid medicine, cortisone for pain, the pill, diuretics and God knows what. I craved grape juice (potassium) worse than a junkie on heroin. I decided that if something did not help me, I would kill myself in three months.


A friend of mine was a psychiatric nurse. She said one of the side effects of thyroid medication was cardiac arrest. Sometime earlier I had experienced severe chest pains while I was driving and I had to pull the car over. The diuretics were depleting potassium so I craved grape juice. She brought me some supplements of potassium. Another friend of mine heard of my dismal situation and came to visit me. She marched straight into my bathroom and I heard her flushing all this stuff down the toilet. She left a sack of supplements and a copy of a book by Adele Davis, one of the first nutritionists who had the guts to point out the craziness of the medical establishment. Then she made an appointment with my neighborhood chiropractor (and my husband got a vasectomy).


I made a deep study of nutrition. I drank a concoction of wheat germ and stuff like that. I regained my health and undertook the practice of yoga—yes, I even did headstands. That wound moved me further away from the medical model.


Over thirty years, other symptoms manifested themselves. Undiagnosed rheumatoid arthritis was bothering my neck and my knees. Undiagnosed ankylosing spondylitis was fusing bones in my low back and neck. I explored many avenues of alternative therapies. An early diagnosis of cervical cancer came along in the 1970s. By then I was experienced in psychic healing and alternative therapies. I was not about to have surgery. I healed myself in 30 days. I went to see a nutritional chiropractor to build up my immune system. The chiropractor took my history and he stated at the interview that The Pill—while it was wonderful for birth control—wrecks the hormonal system. I started on his program and three years later we were married. (I’m no dummy.)


A severe case of systemic candidiasis came along. The Epstein-Barr virus shot me down but good. The arthritis symptoms munched on me a little more as I went. Don managed the nutritional supplements by using muscle testing. I went to Mexico clinics several times for treatments not then legal in the USA. I spent a month at the Optimum Health Institute in San Diego. It included an all raw food diet and a wheat grass detox in both ends, if you know what I mean.


At home, I followed the Gerson therapy. I drank eight ounces of freshly prepared carrot juice every hour. A guy calling himself Mr. Green Jeans delivered wheat grass juice to my door every day. I had a long list of food sensitivities that took eleven years of a severely restricted diet to heal the intestinal permeability condition. I did two coffee enemas every day for six years to detox the liver and the whole body. I had nothing to do with the medical establishment. They did nothing but prescribe drugs and/or surgery.


Husband Dr. Don and I helped many people heal from “incurable” diseases. We did teaching and lecturing about homeopathics, nutritional supplements, diet and that sort of thing. I healed from the candidiasis and Epstein-Barr Virus. Symptoms continued to motivate further research and empowered me as a healer.


All along I was involved with metaphysics, astrology and consciousness raising, the most powerful drive in my life. I was bombarded with messages from others that if I was sick there was something wrong with my consciousness. In some ways, it was assumed by others that I was neurotic or wanted to be sick. I bought into this and went through many years of psychotherapy. I constantly doubted myself and my motives. My psychic abilities reached very high levels. I explored past life influences for myself and others as the origin of disease and many people were healed.


I worked with Thomas, a spirit teacher, for about 11 years. This was preceded by many years study of Huna, the ancient Polynesian Kahuna shaman. I am  a certified teacher of Huna and was doing hands-on healing and psychic healing. Don and I did very deep personal work with Thomas. Although we were functioning at very high levels of teaching and healing, the question continued to haunt me over many years. Why didn’t I get well? We had much more knowledge, experience and spiritual training and consciousness expansion than most people. Still I bought into “something is wrong with you.” Yet, I stayed on the cutting edge of the new frequencies coming into Earth.


Along with my brother Duane, we became a voice in the ascension movement. My brother worked with extraterrestrials bringing in the information about activating the lightbody in preparation for the Shift into the long-prophesied Shift into the Fifth Dimension.. We co-authored the book The Lightbody Activation Manual, Volume One in the TECHNOLOGY OF ASCENSION SERIES. Volume Two came out in February 2007, The Ascension Guidebook. My book, Countdown to Ascension is Voilume Three and comes out later in 2007.


By this time (2007) I am dealing with arthritis and traveling by wheelchair and still pondering the mysteries of the Wounded Healer archetype. Year in and year out I went deeper and deeper—driven by my Wound. Meantime, my husband and I developed a shaman/healing ministry for clients all over the world. We have encountered many other Lightworkers performing highly evolved services who are also dealing with difficult physical problems. They are obviously my buddies

who were in the bar at Alpha-7 that night shooting off their mouths after imbibing too many weird-colored drinks the like of which has never been seen on Planet Earth.


This is now January 2007. Recently I had a breakthrough in the meaning of this journey as the Wounded Healer expresses in this time of ascension in the 21st century. First of all, there is nothing wrong with my psyche and in the larger sense of my soul mission there never has been. Now that I am a crone 70 years old, I finally have the confidence of my own inner awareness and am not influenced by the judgments of others.


Back there before I incarnated I mapped out a strategy to use this archetype to help humanity change its consciousness and get out of its prison in the third dimension. We tried once before, but this time we will make it. A bunch of smartass glocadytes are scheduled to do the unspeakable.



Answering the BIG QUESTION.


How can the Chronically Wounded transform a medical establishment which, by its own admission, has now become the fourth leading cause of death in America?


First, you must remember that we came in with this as a SOUL MISSION. The Collective Unconscious, or Mass Consciousness, is created by everyone’s consciousness rolled into one. The only way that will shift is for enough people within that group to change their individual consciousness. Eventually this reaches critical mass, and bang! The Collective shifts.


What better way is there to break through the boundaries of the medical model than to suffer pain and disability only to find there is no solution from conventional treatment? Pain may not feel good, but it is one hell of a motivator, I’m here to tell you. There is one BIG PROBLEM, however.


The Collective is asleep and brain-washed. People go around like a bunch of sheep. It somehow does not occur to them that all the drugs and surgeries are not really healing anything in particular. Symptoms may be relieved, but your body’s health and immune system are rarely cured or restored.


Anyone who chooses alternative solutions is considered a crazy radical, ineffective nut case and so on. Any medical doctors who attempt to practice alternative medicine suffer severe consequences. So the Wounded Healer people must change their consciousness and awaken to these realities in the face of skepticism and scare tactics. So what are we left with? We are left with a group of people who breach the boundaries of prevailing belief systems and in the process are awakened and enlightened and starting to catch on to their higher soul purpose. Now that is going to be trouble for the collective because if enough of us do it, things are certain to reach critical mass and shift. And that is exactly what has happened.


We may look pretty pitiful as we nurse our wounds.  Don’t be fooled. We are the most powerful healers and lightworkers on the planet. We put our money where are mouth was that night on Alpha-7. If I were the only person on this path, I would not be talking about my wounds. However, I speak for the whole group of us that took this on. I don’t know who you are or where you are, but it is time to take off your coat and see who you are. There is nothing the matter with you. It was a soul mission.


After this mission is accomplished we will all meet once again at the bar on Alpha-7. Suggestion? Don’t wear the uniforms this time.