About a month ago a dear friend of many years lost her struggle with cancer and passed over. Diane knew me better than almost anyone, better than I knew myself, as she often said. At times like this there comes for each of us that moment when we finally break down and feel the grief of loss, regardless of our knowlege of the continuity of life. That moment for me came when I bid farewell to her family who had come for her funeral in my hometown. As they departed the harbor on the ferry boat, I felt an overwhelming sense of finality descend upon me, a finality so intense it almost felt like panic. I returned to my office overlooking the bay, and there collapsed into tears for a long time.
While stumbling through this storm of emotion, I made my way online, and found my new friend Ginny there also. We began a conversation about what had happened, what I was going through, and the deeper meaning of it all. Without planning it, the conversation became something of a guided attempt to reach Diane in the midst of all that sorrow. And that is just what happened; I could sense her so clearly within me, feel her personality essence, and hear her words too, with her inimitable style and irreverent sense of humor. "Spare me your romantic notions of death, you silly bastard", she said. "We don't have time for that--there's too much work to do!" I saw that she was ecstatically, giddily happy, overjoyed to finally be where she always hoped she would be after death, ammong friends and loved ones and the many heroic beings of earth history. It felt as if she were whirling around at hyper-speed, hardly able to stand still, and laughing all the way. I got the impression of "a kid on roller skates in a candy store with a hundred dollar bill." She was busy indeed, already focusing on her chosen tasks in the areas she would love the most.
I had told her while she was still physical that she could always come to me after her transition, and so she did. Since that day I've felt an almost daily sense of boundless joy and unconditional love radiating from within, and Diane and I have had several conversations; moreover, I feel a constant connection with her, beyond mental/verbal interactions. She has truly given me a great gift in her transition, and I now believe that she was/is another aspect of my Oversoul, though I didn't fully realize that during her physical life.
With that deeper relationship as a context, I also believe that she catalyzed the second part of that morning's amazing journey. Although in many ways both parts of this experience overlapped, I'll relate them sequentially for convenience's sake...
For many years I'd been haunted by an inner image of an older man standing pensively at his library window within a large old mansion. Eventually I came to feel that this was an image of one of my former lives, which took place in Great Britain around the turn of the last century. Over time I gathered more impressions of this man; that he had been something of a diplomat in his day, a wealthy political sophisticate who operated largely behind the scenes in order to engineer what he believed would be a more peaceful and prosperous nation and world. For reasons still unclear to me, these efforts had failed, or at least he believed they had failed, leading, in his opinion, to the deaths of many thousands by war. Up until recently, I thought that he had lived out the rest of his life in deep sorrow and regret; and it was in this percieved state that I saw him immersed time and again, his image staring silently outward upon the green expanses of his estate, alone. Eventually I realized that he was in some sense 'alive' simultaneously with me in a parallel realm. I instinctively knew that he needed some kind of resolution, but what is now amazing and somewhat regrettable to me is that I never made the full mental realization that he was stuck there, and that I was perhaps the only one who could help him; even after coming to understand the model of afterlife cosmology which we here at this site have learned. This blind spot still perplexes me, but that's food for thought ultimately.
At some point in that morning's online chat session with Ginny, this man came into focus, and Ginny helped me establish a dialogue with him. I entered his study from behind him, taking in the parquet floor, the book-shelf lined walls, the ceiling-high French doors which he stood before, hands folded behind him. I sat down on a settee and he soon sat across from me. Ginny very gently guided me through a conversation with him. While engaged in this exchange, a lot of information about his life came to me in a holographic way, as it always seems to during after-life journeys.
His name was Jonathan. He was a man of great intelligence, social position, and influence, imbedded within the aristocratic caste heirarchy of his time. He had used these assets in many ways over his life, sometimes quite deftly and wisely, sometimes for the maintenance of the status quo. As the geopolitical order of his prime years gave way to what increasingly appeared to be an unthinkable continent-wide conflict, he desperately tried to avert such a conflagration. Neither an active military officer nor apparently a formally appointed Crown diplomat, he nevertheless maneuvered intensely among peers and foreign agents to broker a deal of sorts to avoid all-out war. For whatever reasons, his efforts failed. The ensuing chaos affected the destiny of scores of nations and countless individual lives. Although the forces at work were far too great for one man like him to tame, he still blamed himself for what he saw as his part in the end of the world he had known. Perhaps in some way he carried the grief of nations as they passed from an age of relatively confined battles to one of world war, where no one was safe any longer.
I had believed that he had simply shouldered this great sorrow for the rest of his years alone in his empty estate. But now I saw that he had taken his own life not long after the war had ended; lifting his fox-hunting rifle from it's place in his study, he shot himself there. His wife and daughter discovered him prone on the parquet floor.
So the image I'd carried of him all these years was him stuck in his own limbo, though I didn't realize it then. Across the boundaries of time he had been influencing me in this life, holding me back from assuming my own power out of fear that my doing so would lead to catastrophic results for myself and others, as he felt it had for him in his life time. His influence had been hobbling me for decades. As we spoke, I told him that I was grateful for his love and concern all these years, but that I needed to go on to claim my full potential and have the freedom to make my own mistakes without being paralyzed by fear. And as well he needed to go on to continue with his journey. In the physical I was in tears for most of this session, as I was in the scene in his study. Following Ginny's suggestions, I embraced him, feeling the closest bonds of father and son, brother and brother, soul and soul. His wife and daughter appeared then with us, quite beautiful and gowned in the style of the day. I'm sure they were Helpers. They waited respectfully for us to make our goodbyes. He and I stood up; Ginny asked me if he was ready to go. And then I realized that he was, as he looked at me with soft questioning eyes. It was I that was unready to release him, to my great surprise, and I told Ginny so. Then I knew that I didn't have to be ready to let him go--I just had to do it. With this insight came the profound realization that by releasing him we would be closer than ever, free to pursue our paths apart and together at the same time, and to share fully in our mutual experiences as part of a greater Whole. He would be my mentor and friend as much as I needed him to be, and vice versa. Then I saw he and his wife link arms, turn, and fade out through the French doors...
I felt such a burden lifted from me, such an inpouring of love, joy, and liberation. Many things have unfolded for me since that day, and will continue to, I know. Jonathan told me that soon other aspects would be coming to me, each linked to one another like pearls on a string, and each with their own particular question and gift. And so it is, and so it unfolds. I will share more of these discoveries with you in time to come. Most of all I want to thank Bruce, all of you here, and my special friend Ginny for making this possible. May Love bless each and everyone of you, and may we all rise to the fullness of our beings through time, space, and beyond...
After the breakthroughs made during the session described in Part 1, I found that the doorway in my consciousness which had for years allowed me to communicate to some extent with non-physical friends and percieved guides had now opened further. My contacts with my recently passed over friend Diane increased in vividness and coherence. In the past several weeks, I have taken to meeting with her There in the mornings to touch base with her. These meetings do not always center around a mental/verbal dialogue, but moreso an emotionally felt link which I find infuses my day with a great deal of happiness and light. Connecting with her, and thereby the realm in which she now expresses her personality, both grounds me and raises my energetic vibration to the point where I find myself laughing out loud; laughing with the joy of life, but also at the undeniably hilarious joke we play on ourselves here, as we pretend to be little disconnected droplets of our Greater Selves. As a wizened Buddhist teacher once said, "One good belly laugh in the morning is worth a thousand prayers."
From the first day of non-physical contact with Diane, I could see many things about her and her environment. She appears always to be clothed in and surrounded by sky-blue and glistening silver colors, colors which always complemented her appearance Here, and which now are part of her very essence, a vivid manifestation of her emotional state and unique energy.
Not long after she made her transition, I tuned into her and asked if we could set aside a place There to meet. Slowly, as I worked to enter a state of relaxed concentration, a scenario appeared. It was a seaside cliff with mountains to the north, resembling in some ways the coast of California. The grass and flowers were intensely hued, almost Technicolor in quality. I sensed that my perception of her environment was filtered somewhat by my own mental constructs, perhaps diminished a bit, but that it was meant as a representation of her home and not to be taken too literally. We sat down in a vine-covered bower made of thick branches near the cliff-side. I had a sense of the air being breathtakingly clean and invigorating, filled with the vibrancy one feels when near rushing water or mountain breezes. She was smiling as always, her familiar impish grin on her face as she sat across from me, chin in hand, patient.
I asked her what her house looked like, and she pointed behind me to my right. I saw there a large hand-built house of light-colored pine logs, with a covered porch overlooking the sea. I started to move through the door, but there was only a dim blankness there. I got the impression she hadn't finished creating the interior yet, and maybe too she wanted some degree of privacy There, just as she did Here. In this life she lived for many years in a small brown log cabin perched on a high bluff overlooking Lake Michigan. We talked there in the vine bower for a while. I asked her if she'd been able to meet with some of the great figures of earth history whom she'd always admired, both those gone before her time Here, and those of later 20th century life. She responded that she had, and that there were far more souls of great interest to her than she ever would have known of Here. When I inquired about the nature of the work she was now involved with, she said that she was engaged in facilitating communication at many levels; between the physical and non-physical, between people Here, and perhaps most importantly to her, toward world leaders and people of influence, that they might heed the higher impulses of their souls and advance the planet toward greater peace, compassion, justice, and equality. These were all cherished values that she passionately spoke for throughout her life. She often felt frustration with her percieved limitations in affecting these changes Here, but now revels in abilities aimed toward these goals There. Still, there are very real differences in the means by which we Here and they There can affect change, and she stressed that we should do all we can to work for a better world with the tools we have at our disposal.
In regard to her work with communications between Here and There, she implied that she was contributing efforts to some extent toward a vast and complex project to bridge the gap of awareness between our respective worlds. I had been made aware of this project in the past through contacts with a close friend who died suddenly over two and a half years ago. This friend showed me that legions of beings had dedicated themselves to the successful creation and deployment of a kind of 'technology' which would allow for clear and easy interdimensional communication. This endeavor has been underway for thousands of earth years, and my late friend said it involved the use of "light, color, and sound." It seems to be a technology organic in nature, a contact field which is itself possessed of consciousness, what we might rather crudely call a "living machine." She declined to elaborate further on this.
I had the distinct impression that the world around her was abuzz with an intense, almost frenetic level of activity among countless beings. This perception may be due in part to the more rapidly oscillating energy frequencies which define Focus 27; yet somehow I got the sense from Diane that they are very busy making preparations for the imminent radical transformation of Earth plane consciousness. As with queries posed to other non-physical friends on this subject, my questions of when and how this change might manifest Here were left unanswered, apparently for good reasons. A friend of mine here in my community says half-humorously that knowing that would be cheating. ;-)
On my most recent morning walk with Diane through the wooded lanes of my beautiful forested home, I remarked to her that it must be even more beautiful where she is. She replied that it is gorgeous indeed, but that in a very real sense there is no lesser beauty Here: it's simply a matter of seeing it fully. We can be as swept away and overwhelmed by the utter graciousness and elegance of our mother earth Here as anyone anywhere There. She told me that I share this world with her as much as she does hers with me, and that it's all good. It's all ONE GIFT.
So our relationship continues, and I am open to discovering just how Diane and I will come to work together for the betterment of all. More to come..
Within the two week period following the successful retrieval of my turn-of-the-century British aspect Jonathan, I tuned into him more than once, both to satisy my sense of curiousity as to his condition, and in the hopes of asking him questions concerning issues of my own growth and personal potential. At first I receieved only fleeting impressions of him as being engaged in pastoral roaming of the vast countryside surrounding his estate. It felt as if he was using this 'time' to reflect on the larger lessons of his life within a familiar environment; an environment which offered him not only a comfortable pause between that zone where he had been languishing and newer locales, but as well a therapeutic reunion with the landscape he had so dearly loved in physical life. Now free of the the greatest portion of guilt and self-punishment which had so afflicted him in the prison of his post-suicide state, he was able to re-experience the vibrant, living countryside he had loved with the purer reverent heart of his younger years. He was, to use an old phrase, at play in the fields of the Lord.
Eventually I focused well enough to make clearer contact with him. I found myself on a rolling hillside not far from his manse, covered with the low grasses of that rich, unique hue found only in the British Isles. There was a small outcropping of white rock there, two of which were large enough to sit on. I sat down, and he appeared before me seated on an adjacent stone. His face was of the same age I'd percieved during the retrieval, lined and somewhat serious; yet that seemed to be his usual appearance in life. He wore the same white shirt and dark pants he'd been clothed in within his study, yet I sensed that this detail was somehow off, that it didn't quite fit him; almost as if I was projecting it onto him and that he was rather uncomfortable with it. On top of that, his attire was incongruous with the damp, misty atmosphere that often blanketed the Lake Country.
Although his manner was formal, I actually found it endearing, knowing the affection and concern he held for me beneath his demeanor. He asked me what he could do for me. I asked him if he could offer his insight into those elements which held me back from achieving my true potential, and what possible destiny may have been meant for me in this lifetime. What follows is a translated condensing of his telepathic response.
"You know already what that destiny is, you have known it all your life. The problem is that you have consigned it to the realm of good wishes, of fantasy. You shunted it off to the side because you felt you were either not worthy of what it had to offer you, or you didn't want to accept the reponsibility of your own creative power. Most people are afraid of their own light, not their darkness. Therefore your questioning of me is rather disengenuous, isn't it? You think by asking that you might get a simpler answer from me, a better answer than the one you yourself hold? I don't think so. You know the way."
Then, so abruptly that it truly startled me, he rose to his feet almost impatiently, and said--"Well.I have to go now. I have things to do." And just that quickly, his appearance changed: he was standing in front of and slightly above me on the hillside, in profile, looking out toward the horizon to my left, through the mist. But now he was attired in full hunting clothes, the clothes of the fox hunt. I could see it in great detail: calf-high black leather boots, baggy grey wool trousers tucked in to them, and a smart tweed jacket of light brown with white checks, herringbone pattern, white cravat around his neck. He held an opened rifle in the crook of his left arm, and a lit pipe of dark burl wood in his lips. One foot resting upon a rock, squinting intently into the distance, searching with the expertise air of an experienced hunter. I was quite astounded at this. (As I write this, it strikes me that the very animal he was setting out to hunt--the red fox--is the same animal that had been my totem animal for many years, an animal which itself had often come to me in visions and physical life, bearing particular messages relevant to my soul growth. I don't regard this synchronicity in a literally negative way, but rather see Jonathan's pursuit of the fox as a symbolic search to integrate some of my persona's gifts into his own being.)
The image quickly faded, and I rose to leave the church where I had gone seeking a peaceful silence in which to meet with him. Yet as I strode down the lane toward town, a flood of words entered my mind--
"Write, yes of course, write. Spread your knowledge among others, share what you know with your brothers. You sit on these gems of insight as if they had no value to others. What a selfish stance that is, son. Who are you to judge what is and is not relevant to others in your world? You are like a man who harvests seeds constantly, yet puts them in jars to be stored on a shelf. How can these seeds ever bear the fruit of flowering expression, how can they ever transmit a greater wisdom if YOU DO NOT PLANT THEM? Give them expression, give them a chance to grow. Plant them in the hearts and minds of your fellow man, and see what happens. Their growth, and the paths that growth will take in the world, will truly astound you, if only you give them a chance to take root. Cast them far and wide, in a multitude of different forums. Waste no more time, but do what you've been urged to do your whole life. Be well, be happy..."
And so I did, and that same day posted the first of what has become a series of unfolding stories, which you here now read. Thanks for sharing this with me, and Love Bless each and every one of you...
With Love, Robert