Author: Henri Monfort
Henri Monfort – A shaman and a therapist, he now lives in Nantes where he began the experience of “Pranic nourishment” on 23rd November, 2002.
Sample of book (PDF format)
Henri MONFORT was born in 1953 in Brittany on the Pointe du Raz, in the far west of France. It is in this magical world of the Grand Large, the Ocean and wild winds that he made contact with the Forces of Nature. A shaman and a therapist, he now lives in Nantes where he began the experience of “Pranic nourishment” on 23rd November, 2002.
He also actively helps people through energy reharmonization, gives lectures and courses and runs his own website on pranic nourishment.
For 12 years, I have surveyed the “UNCHARTED LANDS” of the Realm of pranic Nourishment and this book testifies this. It seeks neither to prove nor to convince. Today, on this Earth, thousands of people live by feeding only on the energy of Prana, which is the energy of Life that composes all things: infinite, universal energy. It provides a concrete response to the major problems Humanity faces or is yet to face: food-related diseases, obesity and overweight, abuse of animals, plants and the Earth as a whole in the uncontrolled thirst to feed ever more people; the pollution of the air, water and the Earth etc…
Today, some pioneers are developing a new body calling for new criteria in preparation for a “leap” in evolution as predicted by Sri Aurobindo and Satprem during the last century.
I offer my infinite recognition to Dana Hájková for her work and her own testimony, as well as to all those who have contributed their accounts to this book and in general to all my brothers and sisters of Light.
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Prana – coauthor Dana Hajkova
Helper on the way to self-discovery and self healing
When Henri Monfort asked me to share my life story in his book I pretended to be invisible and deaf as if I could not understand what he meant. I did not feel like doing it in the least.
To bring into the open my secrets, my taboos, things I have doted on all my life?
After all my experiences, what will everyone I know say? And my daughters, and my parents?
Talking about something I call my life? What am I to do with that? It was a test of how much energy I was still willing to put into the old way of being and how long I was going to make up excuses as to why I could not share my life story.
In my mind I worked out a few things to say about myself during the talks which I was asked to hold after my return from France. I can’t express how surprised, almost alarmed I was when I found out that the subject of abused women, violence and alcohol is so common and it concerns every other person during the talks. I listened compassionately to the women who are still scared to confront their aggressive fathers, husbands and lovers and I was swallowing my tears while listening to the unhappy men with big tears in their eyes confiding in me: “I batter my wife, shout at her and my children, but I cannot help it. What shall I do?”
It was these moving moments that inspired me to write and share my life story.
During the proof-reading of this book I was given a summary of notes to show me what my story should look like. It set out the clear rules that the story must obey; structure, layout and order. All in all, one thing after another. I was told that the introduction was too long etc. etc. Oh my god, so many suggestions. How can I express my story chronologically when I live in chaos? How can I express my understanding of parallel worlds in one? Where shall I get a manual, charts or drafts for it? How can I learn to write such stories? I closed my eyes searching in the universal library called Akasha.
No school will teach you to do that. You cannot learn it from any book or any specialist. It is the school of life. Every day is a blank sheet of paper, every day a new story is written. And how can I express that that a particular day is connected to a memory from my childhood or my past life or a vision of my future and all these three meet in the present time? How can I give it a structure? How can my ethereal expansible personality pour all this out on paper? I cannot do it any other way than how I am conveying it now.
To start with, I would like to say that it is a confession of a loving daughter, sister, aunt and granddaughter, mother and grandmother. I wish to express thanks to my parents for giving me my life and teaching me a lot of good things. Also to their parents, grandmothers, great grandmothers, grandfathers, all my aunts and uncles without whom I cannot imagine my childhood. Thanks to my daughters, their children, my grandchildren. They are my great teachers and they surely will be surprised by many things in my book. The reason is even if we are a closely knit family, I came to the conclusion that we do not really know each other very well. It was simply like that. My desire to change the fate dragged by family karma was so strong that I decided to set out on this Journey to the Unknown.
I know today that it was long before I was born . Being born meant I had to forget about that for about 50 years in order to learn a lot and remember. To be woken up.
I was born in 1961 in Zlín. My grandfather was divorced from my grandmother but because of me he remarried her. I found that out later on when I was 48 and crossing the Czech Republic to find out my origins, my family lineage. My granddad was my guardian angel, my guide and shaman. I always felt that he was very important for me but I could only appreciate it in my adulthood. He loved forests, working with wood, people and life itself. The wisdom he passed on to me in the sandpit was: “Dana, play only with those who you want to play with you, and be where you are wanted and where you feel fine. Just don’t pay attention to the others…”. We loved each other, he was everything for me. When he died, a part of my being died as well. I cried for years on end in the evenings because I was not allowed to say goodbye to him properly. I was not allowed to come to the coffin because I was too young and I did not understand what was going on. God. How wrong my beloved parents were.
My father used to beat me up since as long as I can remember. My mum just watched because she was scared for herself and my younger brother. I know that she cried but she never stopped him. I could not understand it. Today I know that it hurt her so much that it paralyzed her feelings. Later she resorted to drinking and her life was influenced by that. Basically “she gave up”. When I spoke to my relatives and people who knew her they all agreed what a very beautiful, smart and jolly girl and woman she used to be. She had long hair down to her waist and she laughed all the time. After marrying my dad she changed. Nobody understood why. Neither did I. Today I know that it was because of Pain and Fear and Guilt. Despite that, she never stopped loving my dad and she loves him today. She sacrificed herself.
I will never forget 1968 when my dad went missing for 3 days, because he worked in the Zbrojovka armaments factory. We were looking for him in the town, near the railway station where the Russian tanks were rolling past us, mum crying and looking for him. She really loved him. And now I know that my dad loved and loves my mum. It’s just that he never saw how to treat a fragile woman in his family. He grew up in a small village in very hard conditions where women had to equal men at work but had to obey, work and shut their mouths. I saw my dad crying once too. That was at the time when my mum was addicted to alcohol, but the only way he could cope was by beating her up. He could not handle the situation, that’s why he escaped for some time to Slovakia where he went to work but that was no good either for him or for us. I felt sorry for him but I did not know how to help him, and deep in his sorrow he did not feel we loved him.
So we all suffered from the so called, “frozen feelings” and we lived in a vicious circle of illusionary family happiness.
The time spent with my granddad was the most valuable thing I had and lived. He gave me the insight into the essence of life and he planted in me the precious seeds of the love of life, people, nature, simply everything around us and in us. He would take me to the forest, where we would meditate, or to the meadow in Luhačovice, to the water spring Aloiska. I wanted to treat myself to a trip to Tibet for my 50th birthday, two months before departure I was told by guides in my meditation I was not going anywhere that I had work here and that Tibet was coming to me. Well, I laughed it off and I had to confess I did not understand or perhaps even believe it that much. As it goes, I acted against my intuition and trouble arose when preparing for the Tibet trip. Then I understood that I was not supposed to leave.
I was in Luhacovice the day of my 50th birthday in the meadow near the spring Aloiska at 5 o’clock in the morning for my meditation. I was there with a friend of mine who nudged me suddenly: “have a look and count!” Walking across the meadow were 13 Tibetan monks. I followed them and they told me that this is the place of sacred energy for them in central Europe and all their friends from Tibet if they are in the Czech Republic would come here to meditate. My grandfather knew it as well.
My father used to beat me up almost daily until the day I left home. He even beat me up when I was three months pregnant. He knew I was expecting a baby. I know now that he was so unhappy that he was unable to handle a situation he could not control. Nobody had ever shown him how to. He never experienced any kindness in his life. He did not know what it was. I know now that everything gentle and fragile in fact frightened him. He was afraid of the unknown. He used to beat me up with an 8-plait green whip. The raised marks on my body were so awful that I wore tights and jumpers all the time to cover them up. When it seemed to me that I still had some energy and it did not hurt much (my pain threshold changed and I did not feel anything and I learned to stifle my screams so that the neighbours could not hear me) – I was forced to kneel next to the radiator.
In those moments I perceived and saw angels and my granddad around me and always heard cheerful voices, otherwise I would not have been able to survive. These visions and voices guided me throughout my life; I was so scared by my parents that I didn’t even hear them when they were talking to me because it just made me feel sick. I loved them so much.
I was confused and I felt that everything bad that happened was because of me. I was living the vibration of FEAR, SELF PITY and feeling I was a VICTIM, I did not have a clue what self-confidence and love were. I also thought that kindness and caring was wrong.
…more in the book