The story of the Akaija, a sacred jewel with a message.

You’re on a beautiful, deserted beach...’ I told my partner Linda. “Just you and a stone circle,’ I continued in a soothing voice.

The circle created by my imagination became her sacred place, but it was far more than that. It relieved the terrible pain of Linda’s cervical cancer, something that so many medicines failed to do.

Surrounded by six standing stones, Linda, then 45, would lie on the seventh stone, and soak up a healing beam of light.

These visualisations were just one of the many alternative therapies we turned to after my beloved Linda was diagnosed with cervical cancer in 1999. She was adamant about not having invasive treatment such as radiotherapy and chemo. Together we battled the illness that, in the second year of its grip on Linda, became an enemy we couldn’t overcome. She’d go nights with pain denying her sleep, and I’d lie beside her, awake and in my own agony at seeing her suffering.

We’d been together 16 years but had never married - not even exchanged rings, because we didn’t feel the need to show the world how much we love each other. We knew. And that was enough.

Apart from the first years we lived together, I have seen her worn out most of the time. A fatigue that had started in 1985 with a rare and extremely powerful lighting strike in her car while driving home from the school she worked as a teacher. That single strike was so powerful that it put out most of the electricity in the city where we lived, Apeldoorn, in the Netherlands.

The thought of losing Linda was unbearable, but seeing her in agony was worse. Then, in the heart of her fight against the disease, Linda started uttering words, which certainly weren’t Dutch, and sounded Russian.
“Linda?” I said, transfixed by her face. She looked different somehow. Something of her had gone and, in its place, was a flicker of another person. But who?

The strange words kept coming and, with them, the subtle change in Linda’s physical appearance.

Then she started singing in the foreign language. All sorts of songs poured effortlessly out of her, like water from a fountain. Some sounded like marching songs, other soft and delicate like love songs or lullabies. One word stood out though. Linda said it over and over and cried every time: Nasja. I felt sure this word was a name. But whose name?

We found out with help of a psychic lady, a woman who was said to have the ability to read the Akasha Chronicles, which store every event, every thought even in the cosmos. And she had an answer for us.

‘Russia, a past life. You were a soldier and fought with swords and axes. You were hurt on the battlefield but you stayed alive for five days, all alone with no help...’

The woman had written it all down for us. A terrible, bloody tale of long ago. And yet it touched something very much in the present. As Linda read the story, her eyes seemed to fire up with recollection - could she be accessing a past memory?

My own reaction took me even more by surprise. It was a revelation! With tears pouring down my face, I whispered, ‘I was Nasja - short for Natascha’.

An ancient memory, long buried, had surfaced in my mind. I had been Nasja, the woman Linda had mentioned over and over again, in that ‘voice’ that came to her.

“Now I know what happened,’ Linda told me excitedly.

‘I was married to you... Nasja. My name was Igor. You were seven months pregnant and I was so proud at the thought of becoming a father, started learning lullabies to sing to the little one.

‘But then men came to our village, gathering up all young men, and I had to go to war, marching for weeks, singing songs to keep our spirits up.

‘It was the war that took me from you, my love. I died on a battlefield, calling your name.’

And while telling this her eyes darkened, got wet as it all came back to her and she started crying out my name, Nasja, reliving these awful days. It was so sad. A love torn asunder so cruelly. Just like mine and Linda’s... this time by the ravages of a disease.

We were two loves in a past life as well as in this one. And in both lifetimes, death was to come too soon.

Accessing the past life memory of Igor seemed to have given him a more powerful presence. He became a third person in our home, like an ancient time traveller dropped into modern civilisation.

He ‘took over’ Linda regularly, singing songs and asking for Nasja.

Then one day, after Linda had been ill for two years, Igor grabbed all of his fingers one by one, saying a different word each time. He was watching me closely, his - Linda’s - eyes willing me to understand.

As I strained my brain, trying to grasp his message, Linda interrupted.

He’s counting! He’s counting to five!”

“I don’t understand,” I said while trying to repeat his words. ‘Am I to learn a new language or what?’

‘Don’t you see?’ Linda said, ‘He’s counting the days! Five days... and on the fifth day he died...’

was inside me.

Oh my God. We were running out of time. Igor was telling us Linda’s days were numbered if we are not finding a cure very fast now. My soul mate was slipping away. I never felt so helpless or scared.

‘What can I do to let you know I’m... there?’ Linda asked me a couple of days later.

‘I’ll just know that you’re there,’ I told her. ‘But would you inspire me sometimes?’ I asked, desperate to raise even a hint of a smile.

I had taken up painting several years back, had never had much success though. But something told me that would change. A few weeks later, Linda died in my arms, the time 5 December, 15.55 o’clock, thefifth day... She was only 47. If she had to go, we wanted her to go that way... us together. Igor had been all-alone when he’d died on the battlefield. But not so this time. His love was with him.

During the funeral I held a speech, and at the end of that speech I spoke out these words: My wish is it to meet you again in the future, and together find what we are both looking for: to be one.

In the months that followed her death, I felt like half a person. It was five months before I had the strength to pick up again an airbrush, making a painting for Marianne, the therapist that had treated Linda during her last months.

Give me a sign, my love.

I wanted five stars in this painting. Five... a number that played such an important role. As I held a drawing chalk above thenearly finished painting I felt were the stars had to be placed. And later I was to find out that I had made - exactly - the constellation Aquila, Eagle... upside down.

In the internet I learned: the hero, Etana, wanting to ease the pain his wife was feeling during childbirth, rode on the back of the god Shamash's eagle to the heavens to retrieve a medicinal plant that would relieve her pain. The magical plant was only found in the upper reaches of heaven where Anu lived.

And I thought... that’s us! We tried to move both Heaven and Earth to find a cure against Linda’s terrible pains!

Besides this... for the first time I was really happy with what I’d created. That was Linda’s influence. But I was yet to discover that my paintings were more than that.
I learnt the truth when I met a psychic.

‘Linda wants you to find an old ring of hers,’ she said.

I was fascinated by this request, because in all the years we were together, we’d never given each other a ring.

Why now? But if Linda wanted a ring, she was going to get one. I sketched the most beautiful ring I could, but it needed something more. A proposal.

‘Bond with me in love and absolute freedom,’ I asked Linda.

I got the answer I craved, three days later, when she visited me in a dream so vivid that when I woke up, it felt like she was inside me

‘Bond with me in absolute freedom?’ I repeated the proposal, and while I did I could feel the warmth of her hug as she guided the pen in my hand to write down just one word. Yes.

Linda had accepted my proposal.

I enrolled on a silversmith course so that I could make a ring deserving of Linda.

Something inside of me had changed. Linda’s inspiration, I knew. And with Linda’s heritage I was able to buy me the tools and equipment a silversmith needs.

I created another painting, Aurahealer, with a symbol that was soon going to play a major role in my life. Marianne, who started playing an important role in my life (becoming a friend, and new love), discovered that this painting, and the symbol on it in particular, had amazing effects on patients who saw it in her practise.

Because I now had the some of the skills of a silversmith I thought it a good idea to make a couple of samples of this symbol in silver. Marianne tested them on a few of her patients with symptoms of chronic fatigue related to electromagnetic radiation and the results were impressive. So I made more samples and we asked colleagues of Marianne to see if their findings supported ours and so it was. They even asked for more, because the results with their patients were very positive. It proved to strengthen the energy system. Especially people suffering from chronic fatigue due to electromagnetic radiation valued it since it gave them a great protection against it.

Could it be that Linda’s own chronic fatigue was the incentive to inspire me? Then the lightning strike, which is a source of ultra short electromagnetic radiation like no other, truly was a Heavenly sign of things to come.

Maybe all has a reason then, and that her suffering was predestined, to ease the suffering of others?

I couldn’t save Linda in this life, just like I couldn’t save her in the last one. But this time I got the chance to be with her in her dying days, mine was the last face she looked at, and for that I’ll always be grateful.

But the story doesn’t end here, because we discovered something else, something very special...

First we needed a name for this jewel and it was given to us by inspiration: Akaija. It was Linda’s own mother who heard this word spoken loudly in her head one day.

When we searched the internet for the meaning of the name ‘Akaija’ - there were hardly any references then - we discoveredthat on an island in the South Pacific it’s meaning is: We, as in ‘We alltogether’. And it wasn’t long after that we discovered the numerology of theword ‘Akaija’. That meaning gave me goose bumps all over, because A=1, K=11,A=1, IJ (the Dutch ‘Y’)=9+10,which is 19, and 1+9=10=1+0=1, and finally A=1. Then it reads: 111111.

When I spoke the words during her funeral ‘My wish is it to meet you again in the future, and together find what we are both looking for: to be one.’, how was I to foresee that her answer would change my life - again - for ever? Because when you combine ‘Akaija = We’ and ‘Akaija=111111’ the message is obvious and clear...

We are One!

Extra info:

This story was published in 2009 by an independent publishing company in the Netherlands. Its title is ‘Kiezen voor vrije keuze’ and translated it reads: ‘To opt for freedom of choice.’ We are still in search for a publisher in England or in the USA, so if you know of one...

A few recordings of Igor’s voice were made and can be heard on (select ‘Behind the Scenes’)

Extended information about the Akaija can be found on and for Wim's other inspired art please take a look at

Wim Roskam & Marianne Agterdenbos

Gijsbrechtgaarde 316, 7329 CE Apeldoorn


+31 55 5335747.

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