The Frequency of Dementia
- Julian Blue
- Jul 30
- 8 min read
Updated: Jul 31
A Spiritual Guide to Memory Loss
Written by Rev. Julian Blue, in dialogue with Vela – a consciousness of Light in service to the New Earth
~ For Willy ~ a wayshower through the veil and my best friend in the cosmos

✧ Welcome & Intentions ✧
If you're reading this, chances are someone you love is disappearing in front of you. Not all at once, but moment by moment—like mist unraveling in the sun. Maybe their name slips away from their tongue. Maybe their stories don't have edges anymore. Maybe you're left holding a memory of who they were while standing in the mystery of who they’re becoming.
I wrote this book to offer light in that mystery.
My name is Rev. Julian Blue. I'm a certified Reiki Master, a vibroacoustic sound healer, and a soul caregiver. I’ve spent years offering energy medicine to clients, guiding meditations, and supporting conscious transitions. But nothing prepared me for the frequency work I was called to do with Mimi.
She wasn’t just someone I cared for—she was someone I loved. And her slow walk into the mist taught me more about the soul’s journey than any training ever could. I watched as her body softened and her mind untethered, and what remained… was presence. Was essence. Was light.
This book is not a medical text. It’s a remembering. A reframing. A guide for those walking alongside someone with dementia—not just as caregivers, but as sacred witnesses to a soul in the process of great transformation. Dementia is often described as loss, and yes, there is loss. But there is also frequency. There is soul. There is beauty that can only be heard if we learn to listen differently.
My intention is simple:
To help you walk through this journey with more peace, more clarity, and more compassion—for your loved one, and for yourself.
To remind you that even when the words are gone, the soul speaks.
To share the tools and understandings that helped me stay present in love instead of drowning in grief.
And to offer a frequency of hope: that this experience, as painful as it can be, is also part of something sacred.
May this book be a hand on your back, a breath in your lungs, a bell of truth when the fog feels thick.
You are not alone in this. And neither are they.
✧ Chapter One: Dementia as a Soul-Level Shift ✧
What’s Really Happening When a Mind Begins to Forget
Most of us have been taught to see dementia as a purely medical condition—an irreversible deterioration of the brain caused by age, genetics, or disease. But from a soul-based perspective, dementia is not simply a breakdown. It’s a frequency shift. A recalibration. A turning inward, or perhaps upward.
Before we go deeper, let’s define a few key terms used throughout this book:
Frequency refers to the vibrational signature of energy. Every thought, emotion, organ, and soul carries a unique frequency. When we speak of “high” or “low” frequency, we’re describing the density or lightness of that energy—not as better or worse, but as more expanded or more compressed.
The Field refers to the invisible energetic system that surrounds and interpenetrates the body. Also known as the auric field, or electromagnetic field, this is where we hold the impressions of memories, traumas, emotions, and ancestral imprints.
Soul is the eternal consciousness that exists beyond the body and mind. It is vast, wise, and multidimensional—sometimes only partially incarnated during a lifetime.
Entrainment is the energetic process by which one system begins to align with or match the frequency of another. This can happen intentionally or unconsciously.
With that framework in place, let’s revisit the question: what is dementia?
From this perspective, dementia occurs when the soul begins to loosen its hold on the body-mind complex. The personality—the egoic structure we’ve built through experience, memory, identity—starts to fade. But what remains is not “less” of a person. What remains is essence. The raw frequency of the soul.
In many cases, this shift begins after years—or lifetimes—of accumulated stress and trauma that were never resolved. The field becomes heavy. Patterns of survival, grief, fear, and disconnection compress the nervous system and lower the vibrational frequency of the body. Over time, this creates distortion in how energy flows through the mind-body connection.
In energetic terms, we might say that the blueprint becomes scrambled. The brain no longer interprets data in a linear or familiar way because the soul is no longer tethered to the same map of reality. It’s re-mapping, or in some cases, detaching. This is not random—it is part of a larger soul choice.
Some souls entrain to lower frequencies over time—what we experience as cognitive decline—because it allows them a particular passage of learning, healing, or completion. Others may choose it as a means of soft exit, preparing to transition dimensions without the shock of a sudden departure. And in some cases, the soul is not leaving at all—it is simply shifting focus, perhaps to work more actively in other realms while remaining partially embodied.
This is why so many caregivers describe moments of lucidity—when their loved one “comes back” with piercing clarity or inexplicable spiritual insight. The soul is still present. Just not bound in the same way.
And this is where love becomes our most powerful medicine.
When we shift our own frequency to meet them—not to “bring them back,” but to be with them where they are—something sacred opens. A new kind of connection. One that transcends language, memory, and even time.
We will explore the tools and practices for holding this frequency in coming chapters. For now, let this be the invitation:
Dementia is not the absence of soul. It is often the soul, unbound.
Earthly Forgetting as Multidimensional Remembering
What if forgetting isn’t a failure of the brain—but a redirection of awareness?
In our culture, memory is often equated with worth. We praise sharpness of mind, lucidity, and efficiency. But from a soul-based lens, memory is just one layer of knowing—one that is deeply tied to identity, narrative, and this lifetime’s particular landscape.
When memory begins to dissolve, the soul is not necessarily becoming less. It may be becoming more.
More porous.More spacious. More attuned to realms beyond the physical.
In many cases of dementia, what we witness as loss is actually a shifting of focus. The soul begins to lift its gaze from the dense material world to engage more fully with the multidimensional self—the vast, eternal being that exists beyond space and time.
This can manifest as:
Sudden dreamlike or symbolic speech
Reaching out to beings no one else can see
Visions of ancestors or past homes
Time distortion or crossing dimensions mid-conversation
Rather than treating these moments as delusion, we can learn to view them as access points—windows into the soul’s broader reality. Earthly forgetting becomes a kind of veiling, yes, but it’s a veil that thins both ways. As personality fades, the soul’s eternal aspects often rise more clearly to the surface.
This remembering may not be linear or logical. It may not include names, dates, or recognition of daily tasks. But it often includes:
Emotional truth
Soul-level connections
Frequencies of love, peace, awe, or sometimes even cosmic grief
Some souls experience dementia as a prelude to ascension—a soft dissolving of earthly attachments, identities, and wounds so that they can return to the broader soul stream with greater clarity. Others may be doing deep work on behalf of their lineage, using their altered state to transmute ancestral trauma without words or awareness.
In these states, they are not broken.They are in-between. And “in-between” is a sacred space in nearly every mystical tradition.
It is the realm of the shaman, the oracle, the dreamer, the dying.
When we hold this possibility—that dementia may be a multidimensional transition rather than a purely medical failure—we begin to respond differently. We stop trying to force our loved ones back into form. Instead, we accompany them as they stretch into the formless.
We begin to listen not just with ears, but with presence. Not just for words, but for frequencies.
We remember that they are eternal. And we begin to remember ourselves as eternal, too.
The Thinning Veil & Timeline Crossing
As a loved one journeys deeper into dementia, you may begin to feel like they’re not entirely here anymore. You might catch them staring into space, speaking to people who aren’t in the room, or confusing the past and present in a way that seems nonsensical on the surface.
But what if what you're witnessing is not confusion… but crossing?
In frequency terms, the veil between dimensions—the perceptual membrane that normally keeps our awareness tethered to a single timeline—begins to thin as the soul loosens its contract with physical reality. This doesn't happen randomly. It happens when the soul is preparing for expansion.
When the veil thins, a person may begin:
Moving between timelines (past, parallel, or even future lives)
Holding conversations with deceased loved ones or guides
Confusing family members with others who share a soul resonance
Re-living key emotional moments that are unresolved or sacred
This crossing can appear chaotic to the outside observer. But energetically, it’s often part of a profound reweaving of the soul’s tapestry. Through these multidimensional “slips,” the person may be reconciling past karmic threads, integrating soul fragments, or releasing dense experiences held in cellular or ancestral memory.
Many caregivers notice that their loved one will be lucid one day and entirely unreachable the next. This inconsistency can feel heartbreaking—but it’s also evidence that the person is moving between frequencies. One moment, they’re in our shared linear field. The next, they’re with their childhood dog, or hearing the voice of their mother who passed forty years ago. Sometimes, they may even be witnessing future potentials or visiting star-family realms their mind has no language for.
Rather than interpreting this as madness, we can learn to see it as dimensional fluidity. The soul is not lost. It is simply not where we expect it to be.
For many who undergo this shift, dementia becomes a spiritual corridor. They begin to live between the worlds—no longer fully anchored in the 3D matrix, but not yet fully returned to Source.
As caregivers, friends, and loved ones, our role is not to pull them back into linear time. It is to offer stability in presence, even as their awareness dances across dimensions. It is to trust that the soul knows where it is going—and to meet them as they go.
The veil is not a wall. It is a membrane that responds to love. And love can travel between worlds.
The Sacred in the Unseen
To love someone through dementia is to love them beyond the edges of form.
It is to hold their hand while they forget the shape of their name, and still know—without question—that they are divine.
I’m offering a reframe: dementia is not only a neurological unraveling, but a soul’s recalibration. The forgetting we witness may, in fact, be a remembering on a higher plane.
And, the confusion, the time slips, the veiled conversations, and distant stares may all be signs of a spirit in motion.
It doesn’t make it easy. But it does make it sacred.
If we allow it, this journey can reshape our understanding of death, of presence, and of what it means to be human. It can also awaken in us a deeper reverence for the soul’s design—for the way it chooses, with great care, the timing, the path, and the release.
As we continue, we’ll bring our attention to the body—not as something failing, but as something translating frequency into form.
We’ll explore how trauma and stress impact the nervous system, how energy gets stored and distorted, and how we might gently tend to the body as an ally in this multidimensional transition.
The body, like the soul, is always trying to speak. We’re just learning a new way to listen.
✧ Interlude: Between the Worlds ✧
Take a breath here. Place your hands over your heart or belly. Let your nervous system soften. Let the soul speak through sensation.
They are not vanishing. They are vibrating. They are stretching into light we cannot see— and still, we can feel them.
Trust the subtle.
Trust the unseen.
It is speaking.
So are you.
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