The
Universal Shifts of Consciousness
"Far
Journeys" by
Robert Monroe
You are not
Your Physical Body; You are Not the Physical Matter: You are Energy !
Sun, Elliott Heads, Australia 20 Jan 2010
Any
material inc. pictures connected with the writer of this website can be
taken from this website!
Link
to Site Map listing other articles, books and useful
websites:
SITE
MAP
Also by Robert A. Monroe "Journeys out-of-the b-Body",
"Ultimate Journey"
This book "Far
Journeys" can be also downloaded from this site (Printing,
Content Copying and Page Extraction are allowed on this website):
http://www.bibliotecapleyades.net/archivos_pdf/far_journeys.pdf
These pictures are from a video on Youtube, but the address is lost.
The out of body astral flights are demonstrated very well here. The main energy and
information is entering through Crown Chakra on top of the head as a
blue stream of energy. Second
Body is joined to the physical body with the Energy (Silver) Cord (a
white cord), which would a guaranty, that you will come back
to the physical body. If the cord is cut or broken you would lose your
physical body, but it doesn't mean that you die. You will continue
living in your non-physical body in non-physical environment.
Second
(Energy) body can fly through : the centre of Earth, through any depth
of the oceans, through mountains and fire, through air and poisonous
gases, away from Earth to any planet or sun in our and other Galaxies
and Universes, LM!!!
These
pictures are from a,
very much recommended by me, video on Youtube:
Astral
Projection
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JtGG58g7I5s&feature=related
"Far
Journeys"
Dedicated to:
Nancy Penn Monroe, much more than a wife, whose constant and consistent
love, support, sharing, and understanding were the indispensable
elements in the writing and completion of this record. The literally
hundreds of others over the past fifteen years who freely gave their
time, energy, and interest in so many different ways and without whom
very little would have been accomplished.
Prologue. Part I. Near Reaches 1
1. Old Local Traffic 3
2. Hemi-Sync et al. 16
3. The Gateway Program 26
4. Explorer Team I 37
5. New Associations 50
6. Segue 63
Part II. Far Reaches 75
7. Surveys and Schematics 77
8. Contact Point 91
9. Rainbow Route 107
10. Newfound Friend 124
11. Rescue Mission 144
12. Hearsay Evidence 157
13. Shock Treatment 173
14. One Easy Lesson 182
15. Promised Plan 205
16. The Gathering 228
Epilogue: End Game 238
Appendices
The Out-of-Body Experience: Most Frequently Asked Questions and Answers
265
Prologue
There
seems to be an easy way to
do—and a hard way. Given the choice, all of us take the easy route
simply because it's more efficient, saves time and energy. If it's too easy,
some of us feel guilty. We get the uncomfortable sense that we're missing
something if we don't go the laborious, triedand-true pattern. If it's that easy,
it must not be good, might even be sinful. But after a while, the easy way
becomes the ordinary way and we forget the old road. When you've lived
in an area long enough to have traveled
between two cities before the interstates and freeways were built, try
the old
familiar highway just once. You'll find once is enough. The start-and
stop
congestion, the total disorder, the growing frustrations far overshadow any remaining nostalgia you may
have harbored. You have enough
of such local traffic at the
beginning and end of each run on the Interstate. Now the problem. Suppose you
met someone who had never driven on an interstate. All his life, he
has driven only in local traffic. He's heard about such superhighways. He
might even have seen one from a distance or heard the rumble of vehicles
or smelled their exhaust fumes. He rationalizes any number of reasons why he
hasn't and won't go interstate; he doesn't need to, he's satisfied
the way he is; they travel too fast so it's not safe; you have to go out of
your way to get on it; it's full of strangers from all over the place so you don't
know whom you'll meet so you can't trust them; your car isn't in very
good condition and it might break down and
leave you stranded without anybody to help, in some lonely spot you
never heard
of. Maybe sometime you'll try it, but not right now. Suppose you happened to see a
construction order from the state highway
department to begin demolition of the old highway so that all local traffic will have to go
interstate eventually, like it or not. What do you do? Nothing? Suppose the
recalcitrant is an old and dear friend. Then what? Your friend
knows of the order but refuses to believe it. He can see the work crews
beginning to form at the end of the old highway and he ignores their
existence. Thus you know the intense trauma he will undergo when the
old road is shut off, and he will be carried kicking and screaming
onto the Interstate.
You decide to do something, anything you can. After your decision, weeks, months,
years—pass due to your own inertia. You have your own rationale. You don't know how
to proceed. You don't know how to describe the interstate in local traffic
terms, and your friend understands only local traffic. Someone else
will come along and do it for you, for your friend. Finally, finally—you
discover the stupidly simple answer. You and your friend suffer from the same
affliction but from different causes. It is inertia. Back in the old railroad days,
a locomotive could pull only four or five cars at a time because if more
cars than that were added, it would simply spin its drive wheels trying to
get started. Inertia. Then a smart young thinker came along and invented
the sliding coupler, which let the locomotive pick up the slack—and
inertia—one car at a time. Ask any freight conductor what it was like to
be in a caboose on the tail end of a 100-car train when he highballs the
engineer. Instantaneous zero to thirty miles per hour. It's the same with
automobiles. The transmission is there to provide big torque in low gear
to overcome inertia. Once under way at cruising speed, power is
required only to overcome wind resistance and road friction—and
very little of it relatively. The hard case is the catapult launch on an aircraft carrier,
which does the job in a hurry and not too gently. Guns are
inertia-overcoming devices for bullets. It's doubtful that explosive or
catapult methods to full-speed interstate in a different form will be
less than confusing and bewildering, even with modification to local traEc
standards. Take this as an illustration:
. . . I can't get the stuff under a null point, there ought to be a
better way
to do this!
(Your uncontrolled emotion of anger is using much of your energy. A very human response.)
A better way to do it . . . stuff can't help being what it is, you kick
a stone in
your path and it hurts your toe, why get angry at the stone, you can't be angry at it for being
on the path or being harder than a toe . .
yes, now let's see if it works.
(It is focus of attention, of
consciousness, which is without diversion or
deviation. No other energy available to you as human is as powerful. As
a lens will
direct energy you call light, so you can use consciousness.) Each time I hear something like
that, I realize how far I have to go.
(You are doing very well, Mister Monroe. Your own recognition of such percept is an indication.)
Hey, I got it! It's under the baseline . . . uh, except for this one
sawtooth,
can't seem to hold onto it, and there's a smaller waveform on the sawtooth, can't get it put away. (It is another form of rote, as
you call it. Take it if you so desire. It may be interesting to you.)
Sure, why not!
(Click!)
Going from local traffic to interstate does indeed require an entry or acceleration lane to merge into
the flow. If you can make the tools supplied by local traffic apply in the
design and building of the ramp, so much the better. You need to
remember especially the inertia factor—pick up the slack on one loaded car at
a time, start in low gear so you don't stall the engine, then shift
smoothly; automatic transmissions don't know when you need to shift. If the
design is correct, your friend is cruising along the interstate long before the old
highway is closed down.
You do the best you can.
Robert A. Monroe
Faber, Virginia
1985
Part I
1. Old
Local Traffic
If there is a first and obvious point to be made, I can report that I
am still
alive physically after twenty-five years of exploring personally the
out-ofbody
experience. A little timeworn, but still more or less operational. There were several moments when
I was not so sure. However, some of the best medical authorities
have assured me that the physical problems I have encountered have been
simple cause-and
-effect of living in the culture/ civilization of mid-twentieth
century America. Some take another position.
I am still alive as a result of such OOBE activity. Take your pick. So it would seem that one can
practice "going out of the body" regularly and survive. Also, after having
been tested periodically by experts, I
can still make the statement that I am reasonably sane in a not so
reasonably
sane world. There are many people who do strange things and get away with it. A century ago, it
might have been going over Niagara Falls in a barrel. What is the out-of-body
experience? For those who have not encountered the subject as yet, an
out-of-body experience (OOBE) is a condition where you find yourself outside
of your physical body, fully conscious and able to perceive and act as if
you were functioning physically—with several
exceptions. You can move through space (and time?) slowly or apparently somewhere beyond the speed of
light. You can observe, participate in events, make willful
decisions based upon what you perceive and do. You can move through physical
matter such as walls, steel plates, concrete, earth, oceans, air, even atomic
radiation without effort or effect. You can go into an adjoining
room without bothering to open the door. You can visit a friend three
thousand miles away. You can explore the moon, the solar system, and the
galaxy if these interest you. Or—you can enter other reality systems
only dimly perceived and theorized by our time/space consciousness. It is not a new phenomenon.
Recent surveys indicate some 25 percent of
our population remembers
having at least one such experience. Man's history
is full of reports of
such events. In earlier literature, it was commonly labeled "astral projection." I
began by refusing to use this term, as it had an occult connotation
and was certainly nonscientific by our standards.
Charles Tart, a psychologist friend, popularized the term "out-ofbody experience" when we were
working together in the sixties. In the past twenty years, it has
become the accepted Western generic term for
this particular state of being.
Without any obvious reason, I
began to "go" out of my body in the fall
of 1958. In the light of later historical events, it is important to
state that
no drugs or alcohol were involved. I was a nonuser of the former and an infrequent imbiber of the
latter.
Several years ago, I attended a conference not too far from our former home in Westchester County, New
York—the site of my first out-of-body experiences. As we drove by the
house, I commented that the reason why they began was still obscure. A psychologist friend riding
with me took one look at the house, turned, and smiled. "The answer is
easy. It's the house. Take a good look at it." I stopped the car. The house
looked the same. Green roof and stone. The new owner had maintained it
nicely. I turned to my friend. "I don't see anything different." "The roof." He pointed a finger
upward. "It's a perfect pyramid. Moreover, it's covered with copper just
like the tops of the big ones in Egypt before the looters took over." I stared, dumbfounded. "Pyramid power, Robert," he
went on. "You've read about it. You were
living in a pyramid. That did it!" Pyramid power? Well, maybe.
There are reports and books that make
claims about strange energies therein. That the out-of-body experience
frightened me then is a quantum understatement. When it recurred, I was filled
with panic-driven visions of
brain tumors and oncoming
insanity. This led to extensive physical exami-. nations, all negative, followed
by recommendations of psychotherapy for "minor hallucinatory
dysfunction." I discarded this diagnosis automatically. Some of my best friends at the
time were psychiatrists and psychologists with their own problems, albeit
certainly more orthodox.
Instead, I stubbornly began a
search and research into the phenomenon out of self-
preservation and, as the fear and panic subsided, out of growing curiosity. The trail took me
beyond conventional scientific circles (total rejection), religions ("It's
the work of the devil"), parapsychology ("Interesting. Sorry, no data available"), and
Eastern disciplines ("Come study at our ashram in northern India
for ten years"). This was chronicled in my previous book, Journeys Out of
the Body.
One thing is certain. The purpose of the previous book was many times fulfilled. It brought thousands
of letters from all parts of the world and among them many hundreds of
people wrote their personal thanks for a reassurance that they were not
mentally deranged, were not so much alone after all with their "closet"
secret experience that they could not explain, and, most important, that they
were not necessarily candidates for the psychiatric couch or mental
hospital. That was the stated purpose of the original book: to help just one
person avoid such needless incarceration. I personally am bemused at the
changes in these twenty-five years. In most academic and intellectual
societies, it is now quite acceptable to talk
about OOBEs. However, I'm sure that the great majority of people in our culture are still unaware of
this facet of their lives. In 1959 or 1960, I certainly would have derided
the idea that I might give a talk on OOBEs at the Smithsonian Institution.
Or papers on the subject would be presented before the American Psychiatric
Association. But they happened.
One of the most frequent
approaches I hear reminds me very much of the old and worn-out
show-business routine about the question a producer usually puts to the job-seeking
performer. He is listening to what he knows already, that the actor
appeared in The Great One in 1922, starred in Who Goes There? in 1938, won
the Critics Award for his lead in Nose to
Nose, and in 1949 played the role of Willie in What Makes Willie Weep. The producer interrupts and
puts the very simple question: "That's great, but what have you done
yesterday?"
And so it is. What have I been doing (out of body) since the publication of Journeys Out of the Body?
The answer I usually give is this: Beginning in the seventies, I began to
experience a frustration, a limitation in my out-of-body activities. It
is hard for some people to believe, I suppose, but such travels actually
became boring. The early excitement had long passed. It became an effort to
participate in controlled tests, and because it was an effort, I began to
sense that the particular theme of "proof" was not part of my mode of
operation. Moreover, when free of such testing limitations, there didn't seem
to be anything exciting to do.
My deliberate inducement of the
second state also became tedious because I had found a simpler way to
achieve it. I would wake up after two or possibly three sleep cycles,
or approximately after three or four hours, and find myself already relaxed
physically, rested, and completely wide awake. In that state, I found
it ridiculously easy to "unhook" and flow freely out of the body. This,
of course, posed the question of what to do. Everyone else was asleep at
three or four-thirty in the morning. There seemed nothing to be gained by
going and meeting people while they were asleep, not any easy
prospect for validation because of the hour. So with no particular goal or
attraction, I usually would drift around a bit, then slip back in, turn on the
light, read until I was sleepy again, and that was it. This compounded the
frustration, as there was still the compulsion. All of the effort to work in the
out-of-body state had to have some meaning or importance beyond what my
conscious mind (or those of others) thought to be important.
In the spring of 1972, a decision was made that provided the answer.
The limiting factor was my conscious mind. Therefore, if OOBE decisions were left up to that part of
me, as they had been, I would remain just as I was. I was too much in
control—this left-brain "I." What would
happen if I turned this decision-making process over to my total self (soul?), who was purportedly
conversant with such activities.
Believing this, I then put it
into practice. The following night, I went to sleep, went through two
sleep cycles (about three hours), woke up, and remembered the decision.
I detached from the physical and floated free. I said in my conscious mind that
the decision to do is to be made by my entire self. After waiting for
what seemed only a few seconds, there was a tremendous surge, a movement,
an energy in that familiar spatial blackness, and there began for me an
entire new era in my out-of-body activities. Since that night, my
nonphysical experiences have been almost totally
due to this procedure.
The results have been of a nature so far removed from anything my conscious mind could conceive
of that a new problem arose. Although my physical here-now consciousness
is always a participant, better than 90 percent of such events seemed
to me impossible to translate into the timespace medium. It is as if one were to
try to describe music, such as a
symphony orchestra with choir,
and do it in words without the use of such technical descriptions as
notation, instruments, intervals, tonalities, and so on. One can use such words as
"nice," "compelling," "frightening," "aweinspiring,"
"warm," "loving," "beautiful"—and be nowhere remotely near the actual description. You do the best you can. Which,
I suppose, is what will happen as the attempt is made. I'm sure
reporting Niagara Falls barrel-cruising was easier. My here-now activities posed
another problem. None of the exercises and techniques I had been
designing and providing for others would work for me. Psychologist friends
have offered many reasons why they are ineffective in my case. The simplest one is
that I just cannot get my left brain out of the way. I have been so
deeply involved in the production process that my critical and analytical
faculty simply won't let go of the here-nowattention- focusing material contained
therein. Also, in order to produce these exercises in an audio
mode, I have had to listen with an intense form of concentration in the
recording and mixing of the various sounds that we use. Evidently, I have had
to shut off the effect. Even a simple onefrequency tone causes me to analyze the
frequency and attempt to determine that it is stable. Perhaps there is an effect I am
not aware of. But it is a strange place to be, looking over the fence at a
garden you have planted and fertilized, watching everybody else have
such a good time.
The here-now portions of recent events are relatively straightforward. For example, I had become
painfully (literally) aware that my body has taken to rejecting chemicals.
This includes alcohol, prescription drugs, caffeine, and evidently
anything else my body says is unnatural for its operation. The rejection or
allergic reaction takes the form of profuse sweating, vomiting, and/or
severe abdominal cramps. This may be constructive, but it also has its
disadvantages. I never was a consequential
drinker, but even a glass of wine begins the rejection process. During surgery, it is something
intense to cope with. I begin to reject the anesthesia, and awake on
the operating table to feel the surgeon sewing
me up (I am sure to the
surprise of the anesthesiologist). In recovery, under intense pain, a shot of
Demerol only brings on extreme vomiting. You can imagine my frustration
when others are using a system we developed that permits excellent nondrug
pain control in the postsurgical period. In my hospital visits during
the past ten years, only once has the system worked for me. I was
sorely disappointed when it was not effective on the last trip. It was a
nearly unbearable event. Yet I knew if I consciously went out of body, I would not
have the courage to return to that sea of scalding pain. A psychologist friend back in
the early days was skeptical of this drug allergy. Further, he was
interested in what the effects of what are now called entertainment drugs
would be on my type of personal and physical makeup. We tried
"laboratory"-quality mescaline and LSD on my system. Nothing happened.
Another item: I asked a nonphysical friend if I had been in a physical life existence in the recent
past. It was one of the few clear verbal answers that I received: "Your last human life was spent
as a monk in a monastery in Coshocton, Pennsylvania." I looked at the map of
Pennsylvania and there was no Coshocton indicated. I knew there was a Coshocton,
Ohio, because I had lived in the
state. Therefore I asked again
to be sure that the state was right. It was Pennsylvania. I didn't give it
much thought because I personally am not deeply interested in who I was,
if I was. I mentioned the event to a Catholic monsignor friend, and
he offered to look it up in his records. Some weeks later he called to
say there really was a monastery in a place called Coshocton, Pennsylvania.
He thought it would be interesting to drive up there some weekend and see if I responded to any memories. Perhaps, someday.
Item: The money-pants pocket. For years, I have kept this as a closet secret because no one believes
it.
I have shown it to my wife, Nancy, and she still is skeptical. It
seems that if I leave a certain pair of pants hung in the bedroom closet, it
generates paper money. Real money, not new and crisp, usually fairly well
worn. It is never a great amount; the maximum I have ever found in the pocket
is eleven dollars. Usually there will be only two, three, or four dollars.
Time does not seem to be a factor. I can ignore it for a week, and there will
be perhaps three dollars. I may not go near it for three months, and there may
be only six dollars. There seems to be no particular format for the
generation or the amount of money. I can take the pants to the cleaners and return them to the closet in their
plastic bag.
It makes no difference. We have theorized that I may walk in my sleep and insert money in the pants
pocket. The unopened plastic bag dispelled that idea. One rationale is
that it is an ongoing result of a very urgent need for a few dollars back in my
teenage period. (There was a strange event back in that era that might
relate to it.) Some part of my system still remembers that urgent need and
attempts to provide for it. Too bad that when you reach another stage in
life, five or six or eleven dollars does not go very far! Very few people
really believe it, and I don't blame them. I wouldn't if it didn't happen to
me.
Item: In our house at Whistlefield Farm, there was a screened porch off the living room. To get to the
porch, one had to go through two double doors and down a series of
flagstone steps that led to the porch at a lower level. These steps were quite
steep, the difference in floor height being approximately four feet. One morning, with my arms full
of books and papers, I walked out the entrance to the porch and
stumbled. My left foot crossed over in front of my right, and I dove headlong
in the direction of the flagstone floor of the porch. As I fell I was unable
to get my arms out in front of me. I remember thinking, "Well, this will
certainly end up with a fractured skull and a broken neck." About six inches from the
floor, my fall was suddenly arrested and I landed on my head and shoulders
very lightly on the flagstone floor, no heavier than if I had simply
put my head down very carefully. The rest of my body then draped down
afterward, drifting as gently as a feather. I lay there for a moment wondering
what had happened. I felt my head and my shoulders and there was no
pain, no mark, no bruise, nothing. I stood up, picked up my books and papers,
looked at the place from where I had fallen, and tried to figure
some answer. Something had cushioned my fall, but I certainly was not
consciously aware of what it was. Some months later in the middle
of winter, a similar event took place. I was walking down the front
steps, which had been reportedly cleaned after a snow, slipped, and started to
fall. This time I was not quite so surprised
when I again landed very
lightly. There have been only two such events, and I don't think I will
deliberately try to fall experimentally. Just another one of those "as yet"
unexplained moments.
Item: One of the more puzzling events took place as a result of a very direct
communication—or so it seemed. Early
one morning in the
midseventies, about
three o'clock to be exact, I went through my customary lazy man's way
of rolling out of my body. Almost immediately I was accosted by a
vaguely formed individual who gave me this very specific instruction:
"Mr.
Monroe,
be at Eaglehill at 7 A.M. on July fourth." Surprised, I asked for a
repeat of the instruction. It came exactly the same: "Mr. Monroe, be at
Eaglehill at 7 A.M. on July fourth." Before I had a chance to ask why
or what it was all about, the form faded and disappeared. I then rolled
back into my body and sat up and wrote it down very carefully. The next night when I performed
the same act, almost immediately the form was there again with the
same message. It was very definite—almost a command—and again
the figure faded before I had a chance to query further. I tried the third
night to see if it replicated again, but there was no response. What was so
impressive about it was that the instruction was very clear. And it was repeated
exactly the second night. Most important, "they" actually called me by
name.
This instruction elicited a great deal of curiosity from me and those of my friends and family to whom I
related it. We speculated in many ways about it but the big question
was: "Where is Eaglehill?" It was about April when the instruction was
given and there seemed to be plenty of time to find out what the
message meant. But try as we might, we could not find any place called
Eaglehill. After a few weeks, I more or less forgot about the idea. An event changed all that.
While visiting friends several hundred miles from home, we were having
dinner out on the patio of their house. My host had a radio receiver that
automatically scanned various frequencies such as police, fire, and so
on. We were sitting there chatting when suddenly over the radio came someone
saying "Eaglehill." It jarred my attention immediately. I excitedly asked
my host what the radio was tuned to. He replied that it was the FAA
aircraft channel for instructions to and from aircraft. I waited eagerly
for something more on the radio. My host asked curiously what was so
important. Needless to say, I didn't feel that I could tell him. A couple of
minutes later the radio came to life loudly and clearly: "This is United 351
over Eaglehill at twelve thousand feet."
The next day, after a long drive home, I went to the FAA facility at our local airport and asked the FAA
man where Eaglehill was. He replied instantly that it was a holding
point in a neighboring state, a radio marker beacon. He showed it to me on
the airways sectional map, and sure enough, there it was—
Eaglehill. There evidently was some type of small village by that name, although
it did not show on any of the road maps we had. This put a whole new prospect
on the message. Therefore, on the afternoon of July 3,1 left home
for the long drive over to Eaglehill. I drove into the small town nearest to
the supposed site, checked into a local motel, had a casual dinner, and
went to bed early.
At exactly seven the next morning, I drove into the crossroads called Eaglehill. It consisted of two
or three houses, a garage, and a store, all situated around a small country
crossroads. Not a very impressive place, to say the least. It looked like
it had not changed in the last thirty or forty years. I pulled over to the
side and stopped the car. Several local citizens sitting outside the garage
looked at me curiously as I sat and waited. I waited for over an hour and
nothing happened. No one approached me. I didn't feel anything
except first excitement and then disappointment. Finally, sometime after eight
o'clock, under curious stares, I started
the car and drove up through Eaglehill and into the countryside beyond.
I drove
about two miles further and there was nothing but farms. I returned to the crossroads and turned
west and drove several miles. Again, nothing different, no one signaled me,
nothing except country and farms. I turned around and drove east. It was
all the same. I returned to my post at the crossroads, sat in the car, and
waited. When it got to be twelve o'clock, I decided that it had all been an
illusion, returned to the motel, checked out, and had lunch. It was either the wrong Eaglehill, or I understood
it wrong,
misinterpreted, or it was all a hoax or a dream. After much contemplation, I
finally decided where my mistake was.
12
The invitation or request was
not that I go to Eaglehill physically: it was that I be there in an
out-of-body state. What the invitation did not take into account was how difficult it is for me to go directly to a
specific place,
rather than a person.
Adding fuel to the fire: Years later, in encountering a government
official,
I
asked him about that particular site, without reference to why I was interested. He related to me
that it was a special federal research installation. It was being constructed just
about the time I was there. Evidently it is still not common knowledge,
or at least I don't want to take that chance. Therefore, the location
as indicated in my retelling is not the correct one. I still like to
speculate as to what might have happened if I had kept the appointment in the
out-of-body state.
Item: My company had received the franchise to install a cable
television
system in Charlottesville, Virginia, and we needed a receiving antenna site on top of a hill just
outside of town. The owner of the hill was Roy, a small, balding,
bright-blue-eyed energetic little man with a dry and subtle sense of humor. His face
was wrinkled and tanned from many years of supervising the work in the
twenty-thousand-apple-
tree orchard atop
the hill. As he was a true Scotsman, the negotiation was elaborately
casual but
came to a very reasonable and fair end. And we became friends. After lunch one Friday, he
looked at me with a twinkle and asked, "Do you like to play cards?" An old familiar surge rose in
me. "What kind of cards?"
"Well," he said, "some people don't call it poker because we play so many wild games, but you can
have a lot of fun at it. It's only ten- and twenty-cent games, so you can't
expect to make any money. We hold it at a different fellow's house each
Friday night and the only thing is, we don't have any drinking. It's the
oldest, continuous poker game in the city of Charlottesville. Must have been
going on steady for seventy years—and that's a long time. If you
would like to come tonight, I'll pick you up, wherever you are, about
seven-thirty. You'll have a good time at choir practice." I looked at him blankly. "Choir
practice?"
He smiled. "That's what we call it here in Virginia. Some fellows
say that
they are not sure whether it's legal or not and we've heard of other games being raided for
gambling. Course, we aren't doing anything like that." I smiled. "No, of course not.
See you at seven-thirty for choir practice." I became a regular member of
choir practice. I did not attend every Friday, but I did show up at
least two Fridays per month. Again, it was a welcome change from my daily
work in cable television and the participants were strictly local businessmen
who had, for the most part, lived in the Charlottesville area all of
their lives.
They also were totally unaware of any strange research or other
activities
I might be involved in. Even when my first book was published they knew nothing about it and I
made no mention of it. To this day perhaps one or two are remotely aware of what I now do. The first indicator that there
were unusual factors involved in cardplaying choir practice came about two
years later when there were six of us playing a game of seven-card
stud. The deal began normally. My two hole cards were a three and four of
clubs. Among the face-up cards dealt to me were a five and seven of clubs.
The betting was quite strong; there were pairs all over the table,
including a pair of aces showing on Roy's face-up cards. After I stayed in the
betting, which I had no statistical right to do, trying to buy an inside
straight or a flush, the final, seventh card was dealt to each of us face down. I did
not look at mine. Suddenly, without any question, I knew that the card
dealt to me was the six of clubs. It was very strange, simply a "knowing." "Roy," I said, indicating the
untouched down card, "that's a six of clubs and that will make me a
straight flush. And that will beat your aces full." Roy looked at the card and
looked up at me with a sly grin. He had already looked at his last card
and he knew he had aces full. "I got five that says you don't have it.
That's not the six of clubs."
I reached for the pile of chips
and said, "There it is, Roy."
He smiled and matched the
stack. "All right, show me." I turned it over and it was the six of
clubs. Roy
smiled. "That doesn't beat my full house." He turned over his aces full, which beat the other
hands on the table. "I have another five that says you don't have the three and four of clubs in the hole." I smiled. "I don't want to take
your money, Roy."
"A straight flush will beat my aces full." He pushed another stack out. "I don't think you got it. You
somehow knew there was a six of clubs there and you ought to quit while
you're ahead."
14
I smiled and said, "I don't want the other five, Roy." And then I turned over the three and four in the
hole, making the straight flush in clubs. He just looked at it and said,
"Isn't that something!"
On the very next hand, with Roy doing the dealing, the feeling I had was still there, very strong,
the "knowing." I didn't even look at my hole cards. Of the four cards dealt
face up to me there was a five and seven of hearts.
I knew. That's all I can tell you, I knew. "Roy," I said, "you see that
five and seven of hearts?" Roy nodded. He didn't have the aces this time.
"Well," I said, "this last card you are going to deal is a six of hearts and
that will make me a straight flush in hearts. You see, I haven't seen my
bottom cards yet, you notice?" He nodded, watching. Roy had been the
dealer. The rest of the players were watching intently, expecting me to lose.
Roy was an exceptional card player. The last card was dealt to me
face down, and before I could pick it up, Roy said, "I got another five
says it's not the six of hearts. No, as a matter of fact, I'll make it ten." He
shot a pack of chips forward.
"I don't want to take your
money, Roy," I said, smiling.
"You are not taking it from me and I am not giving it to you," he said. "Put it up." I did. "Now turn over the card," he
demanded. I did, and it was the six of hearts. He looked at me with
utter astonishment. He was doing the dealing. No trickery was at all possible
in his frame of reference.
"Moreover," I said, "those two
hole cards that I haven't looked at yet are the three and four of
hearts."
Roy looked at me. "I have twenty that says that they aren't." With utmost casualness I said,
"I don't want to take your money, Roy," and turned over the two hole
cards. They were the three and four of hearts. Roy looked at the straight
flush, the same one as before except in hearts. "Sometimes you are
about the luckiest fellow I ever met."
The others at the table agreed.
That particular run of "luck"
was talked about for several months. The odds against two successive straight flushes of the same denomination
held by the
same person in a six-handed card game are about 5,780,000 to one. How did it happen? I don't
know. How did I know? Very simply, a sureness. I suspect a lot of
high rollers have made a lot of money on such dealings and lost also because
the "knowing" was not right.
HEMI-SYNC ET AL. 17
With the publication of Journeys Out of the Body, we began to receive surprising inquiries,
information, and cooperation from many unexpected sources.
A book intended for
the general public was attracting interest in scientific and academic
circles. Our laboratory west of Charlottesville, Virginia, opened on
an entirely
voluntary basis. Originally named Whistlefield Research
Laboratories, this was later changed to the Monroe Institute of Applied Sciences.
Using the name Monroe was not an ego factor, but simply the quickest
way to clear the title officially. The "Applied Sciences" part was quite
specific. We felt that the understanding of OOBEs could be achieved on a
level compatible with our Western sciences and that the greatest service
we could perform would be to apply any discoveries or information
that we encountered.
The laboratory consisted of a one-story building designed for the
purpose,
and included two offices, a lounge, and a research wing. In the wing were an instrument or control
room, three isolation booths, and a briefing room. All three booths were
connected independently to the control room for both physiological monitoring and the delivery of various types of audio and electromagnetic
signals to stimulate a response from a volunteer subject in a booth. The booths themselves each
contained a heated water bed, thus providing a comfortable condition in
total darkness. They were also environmentally controlled in air, temperature,
and acoustics. A subject in the booth could be wired to transmit to
the control room a wide array of physiological signals. These included
eight-channel EEG (brain-wave electrical patterns), EMG (muscle tone), pulse rate,
and body voltage. As things developed, we were able to determine most of what we wanted to know simply by reading body-voltage changes.
Aside from visiting participants from out of town, we had a local
volunteer
group consisting of several M.D.s, a physicist, an electronic engineer, several psychiatric and social
service workers, plus assorted friends and family. Most research and
experiments took place at night or on weekends, as all of us were employed in
other occupations. In retrospect, the immense contribution that this
group gave freely was a major factor in helping the whole process get
started under these new conditions, and for this I will be forever
grateful. It took much patience and dedication to paste up with electrodes, then
lie hour after hour in a darkened booth and report subjective results of
various tests—results that could be correlated with instrument readouts in the control room to the point where a
consensus
could be achieved.
Our first studies were a continuation of the sleep research begun in New York. The demand for a
solution to a problem brought one of our early results of significance.
Because so much of the reported out-of-body states, including many of my own, revolved around the sleep state, we
still
believed some answers would be found in this area. However, most of our subjects arrived at night after
dinner, and with long, boring periods of being wired up with electrodes,
they were either too tired to stay awake in the booth or too restless to be
able to relax enough to report any subtle and subjective responses. It
defeated our purpose to use any types of medication or drugs to control
these states, so we looked for a method
within our own frame of reference. The old truism held. Necessity
is the mother. It was through this need to help our subjects stay awake, get into a borderland sleep state,
that we
began to try utilizing sound. This resulted in the discovery of
Frequency-
Following Response (FFR), which permitted us to hold the subject in a certain state of consciousness
between wakefulness and sleep for extended periods of time. By introducing
certain sound patterns in the subject's ear, we determined that there was a
similar electrical response in the brain waves of the subject. By
controlling that brain-wave frequency, we were able to help the subject relax, keep him awake, or put him to sleep.
One of our
engineering participants suggested that we patent this unusual process, and we received a patent on the
method and technique in 1975.
By cross-referencing the
various effective frequencies among subjects, we slowly began to evolve
combinations of sound frequencies that created FFRs highly conducive to OOBEs
and other unusual stages of consciousness.
18
Among these, of course, was a very effective means of moving
into what
is commonly known as a meditative state. All of this did not come
quickly. Only a few words cover hundreds of hours of putting together
different sound patterns and testing for responses, with subjects patiently lying
in a booth as sound warbled in their ears, slowly changing in pitch,
while the technician in the control room looked for changes in the
monitoring instruments.
During such sessions, our volunteer subject participants learned to
report
verbally on any changes in their mental or physical condition. This became a very important
ability, to speak and perceive when the normal pattern would be to lose
consciousness or be "asleep."
One of the first solid points of identification was a state that we
began to
label Focus 10. There was no particular significance to the number 10, and I am not sure where it
originated. Also, we wanted to be sure it was not confused with other forms
of consciousness. Therefore it became simply TEN. We were able to identify
this state very specifically and to return to it again and again with our
subjects. Easily defined, Focus 10 is a state where the mind is awake and the
body asleep. All the physiological responses are those of one in light or
deep sleep. However, the brain-wave patterns are different. The
EEGs show a mix of waves ordinarily associated with sleep, light and deep, and
overlying beta signals (wakefulness).
Gradually there developed a very special group, a total of some eight subjects completely familiar
with the Focus 10 state. Verbal communication in Focus 10 through the
microphone/headphone system became as normal as if we were sitting
across from one another in a conference room. We could tell easily from the
instrument readout when they were and when they were not in Focus 10.
It could not be imagined or faked, even if there had been any remote
desire to do so. There were many times, of course, when they were unable
to get into the Focus 10 state because of external pressures and stresses
in their daily lives that they could not abandon easily. In such cases,
they simply reported that they could not "do it" that night or canceled the appointment. This saved much time and effort. With the constant stream of
visitors we began to determine that others, totally untrained, could be
assisted into Focus 10 without a great deal of trouble. The process of
learning to communicate verbally would take much longer. To see how far
this would go, we sent a tape of the composite signal to a psychiatrist friend
in Kansas. In an experiment, he tested it on four completely naive
subjects and with no suggestion as to what to expect. He reported that one of
the four subjects quit the test because he found that he was bouncing
against the ceiling of the room looking down at his physical body. Our next step came as an
interesting proposition. With the body asleep —i.e., the physical
senses turned off or reduced—why not develop frequencies that would enhance perceiving by means other than the five physical senses? With the
insertion of higher-frequency beta signals, our subjects began to find much
more than the usual blackness. First came light and color patterns seen
visually in the blacked-out booth, with eyes either closed or open. Next
came sounds heard in the head, not a part of the synthesized sounds, but
voices, music, sometimes loud explosions that startled the subject completely
out of Focus 10—something that has still to be explained. These phenomena were gradually
perceived in a pattern, as somewhat of a band preceding a change
into the out-of-body experience. There were also preliminary physiological
responses—lowering of blood pressure and pulse, slight temperature drop
(03°), loss of muscle tone. Subjectively, there were reports of a
heaviness in the physical body, sometimes catalepsy, and a strong sense of heat
followed by coolness. As the induction of the OOBE state was examined
further, one key element did repeat consistently. Subjects began to locate within
their nonphysical perception a
pinpoint of light. When the
subject learned to "move" in the direction of the light until it became
larger and larger, and then move through it, the OOBE state was achieved. In
slow motion, it "felt as if one were going through a tunnel to get to the
light," a classic description that has been brought forth by many who
performed the OOBE inadvertently or in a near-death situation. One new development was the key
that opened many things for us. We now call it the Hemi-Sync
process.
Science has long known that your brain is divided into two halves, or hemispheres. But only in recent
years has it been discovered that these two halves are entirely
different in the functions they perform. There is still controversy about the
theory as to details. Most of the time, we think only with our "left brain."
21
When we use our "right brain," it is primarily to support the action of the
left. Otherwise, we do our best to ignore it. In function, the nerve signals
from these brain halves act in an X crossover. The left brain controls the
right side of the body, and the right brain controls the left. We are
primarily a right-handed civilization, dominated by our left brains. Only in the
last fifty years have left-handers been accepted as "equals." In many
ways, we still discriminate against lefthanders. Did you know that a pair of
scissors is a right-handed tool?
We use the left brain to talk
and read, to do mathematics, to reason deductively, to remember
detail, to measure time, among many other facets—the source of
logical, rational thought. It "knows" nothing else. Our right brain is the
originator of ideas, spatial sense, intuition, music, emotion, and probably much more
than we now realize. It is timeless, apparently with a language all
its own.
One of the best descriptions given to illustrate the difference is with
a reel of
movie film. To determine the content, the left brain will put it on a projector, show the movie on a
screen, and thus be informed. The right brain will pick up the roll of
film, hold it for a moment, then put it down and say, "Oh, I understand." Ridiculous! That's your left
brain's reaction as you use it to read these words. It simply doesn't
compute—by left-brain standards.
Basically, we are a
half-brained society. Virtually everything we consider valuable is operated or
controlled by our dominant left brain. Even if it originates in the right brain,
such as an idea or music, the left brain takes over and puts it to use. How did we get this way? No one
is absolutely sure, but one of the better guesses is that the
left-brain dominance came about because of a basic need to survive in a
physical world. Through thousands of years, our forebears added to
left-brainism because that was the way to get things done. Our entire
system—books, schools, colleges and universities, industry, political structures,
churches—is fundamentally left-brained in learning, application, and operation. We have generally regarded right-brain thinking with amused tolerance,
suspicion, disgust, irritation, distrust— and awe. Then why bother! Why not stay
half-brained and let it go at that. Who needs the right brain! We do. Recent studies show we
use our right brain throughout our daily lives in many subtle ways. For
example, the left brain remembers the name, but the right brain
remembers the face. (How many times have you spotted a familiar face but
couldn't remember his name? Left brain, watch out! Studies of world leaders
throughout history indicate they thought with far more than their
analytical, intellectual minds. All great decisions by mankind have been made with
the left brain plus. Plus the right brain? Evidence supports it, based
upon what we now know. Moreover, it's a good guess that the right brain pulls the voting-booth lever in
presidential
elections. Current theory centers around the idea that we shift brainhemisphere
dominance many times during
our daily activities. Such a shift takes place instantly,
depending on the mental or physical need at the moment. This seems to limit
even more rigidly the already minor use of our brain/mind potential. How
we got smart enough long enough to climb down out of the trees and
survive as a species was either dumb luck or a miracle. Or something else. How do we then go about using
more of our brain power? There have been many ways attempted over
the course of human evolution. Virtually all of them have had drawbacks
or limitations in one form or another. The Hemi-Sync process offers
promise and potential in this area. It can be utilized with relative ease,
does not require years of intensive training, and is not limited to a narrow band
of application.
Hemi-Sync (short for hemispheric synchronization) uses patterns of sound to help create
simultaneously an identical wave form in both brain hemispheres. This means that
when your ear hears a certain type of sound signal, the brain tends to
respond or "resonate" with similar electrical signals. Knowing that various electrical brain waves are indicators of
states of
consciousness (such as awake or asleep), you thus can listen to a
similar
sound pattern and it will help you be in the desired state of awareness. Hemi-Sync takes the process an
important step further. Each ear sends its dominant nerve signal to
the opposite brain hemisphere, following the X pattern. When separate sound
pulses are sent to each ear (using headphones to isolate one ear from the
other), the halves of the brain must act in unison to "hear" a third
signal, which is the difference between the two signals in each ear. For
example, if you hear a sound measuring 100 in one ear and another signal of 125
in the other, the signal your whole brain will" generate" will be 25. It is
never an actual sound, but it is an electrical signal that only can be created
by both brain hemispheres acting and working together. The signal so
generated is narrow-band in frequency and often twice the amplitude
or strength of a typical EEG brain-wave form. If the 25 signal (above) is one
that produces a certain type of consciousness, then the whole
brain—both hemispheres—is focused in an identical
state of awareness at the same
time. Most important, the condition can be changed at will by changing the sound pattern. It also can be learned
and
re-created from memory when the need arrives. Once the researcher or
clinician is exposed to some of the potentials of the Hemi-Sync process, his
first thought is application within areas of his own interest. One illustration
of this is in the field of psychiatry. The use of Hemi-Sync in analysis
apparently opens the patient to levels of memory that may take years to achieve using standard interview methods. Another experimental use has been in
reduction of stress tension in patients. Sometimes the change is so subtle that
the patient himself is unaware of it. One of our psychiatric associates
was treating an Air Force colonel for stressrelated problems. After two weeks working with Hemi-Sync and the psychiatrist, he angrily wanted to give up.
"It isn't doing a damn thing for me," he reported. "Everything's the same. I don't feel any
different, not a thing." He hesitated. "Well, I did take my wife out for dinner the
other night for the first time in six months. And, oh yes, I finally took my son out fishing for the weekend, which I had promised to do for
a long time. But that's all. Nothing else. Not a single thing!" Our psychiatrist friend simply
nodded.
There has been much talk about the use of Hemi-Sync with terminal cases. However, in spite of the
broad interest and numerous requests, very few have actually utilized the
system with specific patients. One example of this took place with another
psychiatric associate, who was treating what might be labeled the
hard-core terminal case. His patient was a psychologist who had been ill
for two years and had become drug-addicted in order to handle the pain of
his illness. Thus the problems doubled up— the patient was supposed to
know all the answers and would automatically resist all normal treatment,
with the added drug dependency. Our psychiatrist began working with him daily,
utilizing the Hemi-Sync process. By the Wednesday of the second
week, a simple but very significant event took place. The patient was
able to go to sleep at night for the first time in two years without any pain or
sleep medication.
At the end of two weeks, the patient returned home. He died several months later, and the final
report came from his wife. The psychologist patient had spent a very calm
and quiet last week of his life, completely free of pain, without any
medication, and had a pleasant and peaceful last few days with his family. Our
psychiatrist who treated him believes that his exposure to Hemi-Sync
during treatment made this possible. Another
psychiatrist friend,
active in research with schizophrenics, found
that under certain Hemi-Sync patterns one patient lost many of the
symptoms of his illness. When taken off the Hemi-Sync sound, he
reverted back to his typical psychotic condition. This was only one
particular patient. However, it does beg for further investigation,
to determine if the
patient can be trained to replicate the conditions created by Hemi-Sync, plus some form of encoding or
entrainment that would let him remember and use it in his daily life. Certainly one of the most
successful applications of Hemi-Sync is a training series we call
Emergency Treatment. This is designed to help an individual through the process
of serious illness, accident injury, or surgery. One of the earliest examples
comes to mind.
A psychiatric counselor visited our lab, having heard of some of our work, and in the course of
conversation we discovered that he was at that time the second-oldest living
kidney transplant recipient. He had undergone some fifteen successive
operations over the years to correct the effects of the chemicals that he had to
take in order to avoid rejection of the transplanted kidney. He was due
to go in for surgery for the sixteenth time on the following Thursday. We
suggested that he try this Emergency Treatment series. He readily agreed. His case was important in that,
because of the many previous operations, his doctor had a very precise
history of his physiological state during surgery, how much anesthesia he
required, what was needed to control his pain, and his rate of
recuperation, among other items. Knowing this, his doctor agreed to let him use
the tape series, which involved preliminary exercises and then listening to a Hemi-Sync tape in the operating room
during the actual operation,
during recovery, and again while recuperating.
25
On the scheduled Thursday, he went into surgery at eleven o'clock. According to the report, the
surgeon very nearly canceled the operation because of his low blood
pressure. However, it was steady, so he decided that this was not a serious
risk. At four o'clock in the afternoon, the patient called me from his
hospital room. He was sitting up in bed. "I just thought I'd let you
know how it went." His voice sounded strong. "They gave me one shot of pain medication before I had a chance to stop them, but I have not
needed any since. The only problem that I had was that I tried to get up
and go to the bathroom and I fainted. The doctor reported that my blood
pressure still was very low. Is that normal?" "Try counting yourself out from
ten to one," I replied, "and then see where your blood pressure is.
It would seem that the recovery tape didn't get you out of it completely.
Call me back after your doctor takes your blood pressure again."
He did as suggested, and reported that his blood pressure had completely returned to normal. According to the records, his recuperation time was cut in half from what
it had been after all of his previous operations. More important, he
was able to control totally his problem of chronic pain, which had plagued him in the months and years previously. Once out of the hospital, he
began to develop actively the use of Hemi- Sync for pain control. He met
with the State Rehabilitation Agency, as one of their major problems in
rehabilitation is the control of pain which prevents many from living and
working normally. The State Rehab people became interested enough so
that we were invited to conduct a demonstration at the Federal Rehabilitation
Facility at Hot Springs, Arkansas. As a result, we received a request
for the cost to train personnel in our process at rehab centers in all fifty
states. We provided this, but never received any further requests. Evidently
it was too unorthodox to fit into a federal budget. The use of Emergency Treatment
during surgery has had varying degrees of success and no failures
whenever it has been properly used. One vascular surgeon has utilized
it with over thirty patients and still has difficulty in enlisting his fellow
practitioners in its use. The president of a major corporation used it
during surgery, and refused any postoperative pain or sleep medication. He
evidently became so annoyed at hospital procedures that he discharged
himself three days after surgery. A young abdominal surgery and was sky-diving one week later. The Emergency Treatment series
has had a remarkable history. The biggest problem is gaining the consent
of the surgeon and the hospital personnel to its use in their highly
organized environment.
For a good night's sleep, Hemi-Sync appears as effective as prescription drugs. Executives on long
airline flights use it to overcome jet lag. Others find it helpful in
stress-tension reduction or in playing a better game of golf. As a learning tool, it has a
great ability to focus and hold attention. In a particular course in a
government training school, it increased mentalmotor skills by 75 percent. In
another test, Morse code students improved their ability by as much as 30
percent. On the other end of the scale, primary-grade pupils in Tacoma
learned in four weeks what ordinarily took a full semester. These and other results led us
to the beginnings of definitions of what we were doing and why we were
doing it. It appeared to be something much different from finding
ways to trigger OOBE states. This brought us to the following formal premise:
Stated simply, the Institute holds to the concept that (1) consciousness and the focusing thereof
contain any and all solutions to the life processes that man desires or encounters;
(2) greater understanding and appreciation of such consciousness can be
achieved only through interdisciplinary approaches and coordination;
(3) the results of related research effort are meaningful only if reduced to
practical application, to "something of value" within the context of
the contemporary culture or era.
This led us to the base that
consciousness is a form of energy at work. The first step must therefore
be to perceive the energy itself—no small trick when you are using
yourself to measure yourself, as it were. Once it is perceived in its raw form, one can possibly begin to understand how it
is
naturally used. Such perception will permit a broader and more
deliberate
control of such energy fields. From control, it is a very logical step
to apply it
in new and expanded forms. This is all a very circumlocutory way to say that if you can find out the
stuff that makes you think and be, you can use it in ways that you are not
using it now.
3.
The Gateway Program
In the mid-seventies, a development took place that changed drastically much of our activities. Only in
retrospect did it become discernible. Esalen at Big Sur in California
invited us to conduct a weekend workshop using our new methods and
techniques. In a way, we took it to be somewhat of a recognition of
what we were doing. Esalen was then known as a beginning source for many
new types of psychological theory and practice, and somewhat a
fountainhead of intellectual approaches to the human mind.
We accepted, and made the trip, not quite sure what to expect when we got there. We had never handled
twenty-four people at one time in the consciousness states familiar
to us. I am sure the participants really didn't know what to expect either,
except that it had to do with the out-of-body experience. We had planned a
round-the-clock program, with food available at all times, and breaking up
occasionally for two cycles of sleep. I and an engineer associate, Bill
Yost, were the only ones there to conduct this
marathon.
Because we were dealing with unknown subjects, we brought with us an affirmation for all of the
participants to memorize before they started the session:
"I am more than my physical body. Because I am more than physical
matter, I can perceive that which is greater than the physical world.
Therefore, I deeply desire to expand, to experience: to know, to
understand, to control, to use such greater energies and energy systems
as may be beneficial and constructive to me and to those who follow me.
Also, I deeply desire the help and cooperation, the assistance, the
understanding of those individuals whose wisdom, development, and
experience
are equal to or greater than my own. I ask their guidance and
protection from any influence or any source that might provide me with
less than my stated desires."
The results of this first workshop were not spectacular, as far as we could determine, but we did
learn much from it. It certainly provided a much broader base for our
experimental testing. Basically we had introduced Focus 10 and various simple
applications of the potentials of this particular state of
consciousness. Our debriefing indicated that we had achieved this goal. The
participants learned what Focus 10 was—mind awake, body
asleep—and learned how to produce it within themselves at will. We returned to Virginia
well satisfied that the method was a practical one. Not long thereafter, we began
to get requests from individuals and other organizations to conduct
more such sessions. After reviewing our results, we decided that this
would be a very productive way to conduct experiments on such a broad
scale that we could certainly not afford to do otherwise. Thus we began to
conduct weekend sessions on an occasional basis. We grandly called it the
M-5000 Program, on the premise that we would have a magnificent
statistical base and a highly sophisticated and well-tuned training system if
we ran five thousand participants through it. The information and experience
gleaned from one program would be used to modify each succeeding
program in order to maximize the results. This involved also obtaining
trainers to conduct these sessions, no easy task, and converting the system
into headphones so that the Hemi-Sync effect could be fully utilized.
After the first few sessions, we realized that it was folly to presume that we
would ever reach the five-thousand mark. We also began to recognize that we
were creating for the participant a doorway, a window, a gap through which
he could achieve other states of consciousness. Thus it became known as the Gateway Program. We did little or no promotion
for the training series. Those who attended had heard about it by word of
mouth from graduates. Because it was experimental, each participant signed a statement to that effect and was obliged to report results
beyond the session itself. This is not to say that all did so, but enough did
to give us significant statistics. Earlier programs were held over
weekends at motels, conference centers, and special meeting facilities
throughout the United States. Participants met in a large room where a
distribution system we devised provided the taped training exercises via
headphones.
30
In retrospect, it was astounding that the program was effective at all,
because often the meeting place directly adjoined the motel lounge and
bar with a live orchestra playing at nighttime. To get around this problem
locally, we wired a small motel some five miles from our laboratory where
we had two-way communication to each room. The major problem there
was that the motel had no restaurant, and all food had to be catered during the session. It was at this site that
we tried an
interesting experiment.
We developed an exercise whereby the participants simultaneously would be able to move this
special mental energy into a visible pattern of light some one thousand feet
above the motel. In the latter stages of the session, late one night, we put
them through the test.
The idea was that the
combined energy of some twenty-four individuals might provide something
we could see. All external lights in the motel were turned out (the
motel itself was out in the country) and by stopwatch timing we knew
the exact moment when any light should appear above the motel. Four of
us went outside and looked up into the darkness. We had had plenty of
chance to accustom our eyes to the darkness beforehand, so when the
signal came at the proper time, we looked very eagerly. None of us saw
anything. Suddenly our electronics engineer yelled excitedly, "Look
higher, look higher!" We did. Most of us had been looking just above
the roof of the motel. We now looked far up into the sky in
astonishment. Against the starlit night there were soft, red, neonlike
waves. They resembled nothing so
much as trickling water moving across an arc of the sky directly atop
the
roof of
the motel. At exactly the time that the exercise called for the light to shut
off, it suddenly disappeared. Three minutes later the exercise was repeated
on the tape, and the red waving rivulets appeared again and shut off at
the appropriate signal. All four of us observed it and were tremendously excited
by the result.
Later at a Gateway
session in California, at a ranch north of San Francisco, we
repeated the exercise. This time we had an engineer with a special
Polaroid camera pointed upward to attempt to take a picture if the
phenomenon was repeated. To ensure against the possibility of fogged
film, two photographs were taken just prior to the signal for the light
energy to be generated. During the exercise when the energy was
supposed to be in place, two other pictures were taken. After the
signal was turned off by the tape, subsequent pictures were also taken.
There were some five or six observers present. None of us saw any light
phenomena. However, when we went in afterwards and conducted the
debriefing we examined the Polaroid photographs taken. The ones
preceding the light signal were blank; the two after the exercise were
blank. The two taken during the exercise itself showed a round ball
with a marbleized
effect much like the earth seen from a distance. Why the Polaroid
picked up a picture and we could not has been explained by several
physicists and photographers. The film can "see" light frequencies our
eyes cannot. The usual explanations of light leaks, film fogging, etc.,
have also been put forward as the source of the round-ball-of-energy
photograph. The blank film before and after made the two energy
photographs more significant, being in the center of the film
pack—a most unlikely place to be preexposed.
What does the Gateway Program really do for an individual? It varies so much that each seems to find
his own answer. Many, of course, have come on the possibility that they
will have an out-of-body experience. Most of the time this expectation is
not fulfilled during the session itself. Instead, they gain profound insights and
understanding of the purposes behind their being and doing. Not at
all unusual are life-changing peak experiences or moments of revelation never
before encountered and which
neither cannot nor need be
repeated.
The program itself teaches the Focus 10 state (mind awake, body asleep). Participants also
learn to move into what is called Focus 12, where all physical-data input is shut
off and the consciousness can reach out and begin to perceive in ways other
than through the five senses. The action really begins here, where
perspectives and overviews change drastically. It is here where the participant
truly understands that he is "more than his physical body." The Gateway Program thus has
evolved into a unique process of selfexploration and discovery. It first
surmounts the Fear Barrier (of the unknown, of change), which seems to be
the greatest cultural restraint on individual growth. Think of
where you are now as a clearing in a dark forest—we call it C-l
consciousness.
31
We then take you into the forest to a point where you can still "see"
the familiar clearing. That point is a guidepost (Focus 10). After a sufficient number of runs between
guidepost
and clearing, the fear disappears. At the Focus 10 guidepost, you always know you can get back to the
clearing if you get uncomfortable for any reason. From the Focus 10 guidepost,
another point is established deeper into the forest and probably "out of sight" of the clearing. This we call
Focus 12.
After several runs between guideposts 10 and 12, this too becomes familiar and secondary fears
fade away. You know that even if you can't perceive the clearing (C-l)
from Focus 12, you can "see" Focus 10—and from 10, you know the way back
to C-l. The process is expanded to succeeding guideposts, each
deeper and different, beyond ever-expanding limits. With the Fear Barrier
dissolved, one of the greatest gifts to the human species comes into full play.
Curiosity. With the tools provided, the participant is then free to do as he
wishes. He accepts the authority to do so—and the
responsibility.
The individual, of his own accord, without suggestion but through direct experience, begins to know,
rather than believe, that he does survive
physical death. It doesn't make any difference what he does during his physical life, what he
believes; he will go on after his physical body dies. Survival beyond physical death
is not a belief system, therefore, but a simple fact as natural as being
born. There is no dogma related to the Gateway
Program—except that when you begin the session, you should seriously consider that you are
"more than your physical body."
It is inevitable that the
borders between this and other reality-energy systems are crossed. Many of
the results are reported as reunions with "dead" friends and family as
well as encounters with other forms of intelligent energy not generally recognized
or accepted by mainstream American cultural levels.
Again, if you are aware of the basic effect of the Hemi-Sync process/that of providing an access to
many levels of consciousness simultaneously, something far different from
the usual consciousness that we use for the most part in our daily lives,
you can begin to grasp some of the potential results. Through the Gateway Program, we
have been able to conduct tests
with the Hemi-Sync process with
over 3,000 subjects over the past ten years. With a minimum of twenty
individual test/exercises per subject participant, that comes out to 60,000-plus individual tests of the
effectiveness
of the method and techniques involved. That has been and is the basic value to us of the
Gateway Program—a test base of 60,000. At the very least, we know that we
have been able to put people to sleep 60,000 times and awaken them. That is
a pretty good statistic for product testing, especially one that is
noninvasive in its physiological impact. Most significant is the
analysis of the Gateway population—those who have attended the sessions over
the past eight years. First, 41 percent are male. This is double the norm
for the typical self-awareness workshop. Most researchers agree this is
due to the scientific aspect of the Hemi- Sync process as against more
esoteric origins. Second, 29 percent are what we label professionals—psychologists, psychiatrists, educators, scientists, engineers, etc. These attend
principally to determine possible applications in their own areas of interest.
Third, the average age is thirty-nine, which puts Gateway completely out of the age range of the faddist and "in" transient group. Finally, 83
percent attend for one basic reason and come away with another, more
valuable result.
The best way that we can report the meaning of Gateway is to give you some of the reports that we
have received relative to the program from those who have attended. Here
are a few of these: 1,135-CM
"The most thrilling experience for me was with Focus 15 on increased vibrations: I felt the energy
flow going slowly up on one side and down on the other side of my body,
then faster and faster. I felt I would become a spiral, then a point, and so
I did, and as a compact unit I was flying higher and higher. . . . But
then I thought: I cannot go any further, any higher—and in a flash
I 'hear': Hey, you limit yourself! Okay, then, I overcame, accepted, and off I
was, I felt projected like a Sputnik into the universe, to the stars, another
entity integrated in the all. Feeling this oneness was an indescribable
joy and happiness!
"The deep lesson I took from this exercise was that although having heard and read many times that
we are what we think, that we limit ourselves by our mind, there I
was experiencing something unique, at least for me, by overcoming doubts or limitations which I am solely responsible for."
33
1644-CM
". . . That morning, having lost interest in holding the solar system in my hands (can't believe I
just said that!) as the tape had directed me to do, I visualized the Focus 15*
blue 'door.' Finding nothing there, I proceeded through red, yellow, pink, green, purple, and finally into
white.
Using white as 'Level 21,' I continued to '26,' where I then (and have since) received messages for
other people in the program. I later moved to '27,' where I had previously
found my father. Feeling that he was busy, I decided to try uncharted (to
me) territory.
"Devising a digital counter, I sailed backward through darkness as the
counter flashed numbers faster than I could read them. Somewhere near where I perceived to be 100
(98?), I stopped and saw many people milling around: They looked like
holograms, but conveyed the message of being 'alive.' Some ignored me, some
moved away, but several approached me with great joy. I sensed that
the latter felt that they were stranded and thought that I was there to
guide them back. I asked about the others and was told that some were just
exploring, and would return to their bodies when they felt like doing so, while others were waiting for their
bodies to
die, so they could be free. The ones speaking to me, though, said that they got there inadvertently,
and were not able to return on their own. "At this point, Bob, I heard
your barely audible voice saying, 'You will now return to Focus 10.' In
panic, I felt I needed your voice to find my way back. I tried to piggyback
someone, but was not able to, and returned to my CHEC Unit** in what I
felt was the nick of time. With a great sigh of relief, and an
expletive or two, I reexamined the experience, and am doing so
again at the moment of this writing:
* "No time" consciousness.
** Controlled Holistic Environmental Chamber.
1. I don't believe that it was a dream. As I type this, two weeks after
the event
took place, I'm still overcome with a feeling of profoundness.
2. I don't believe in coincidence. Although the implications are not
clear to
me, I feel that there is a reason I experienced something I had never consciously thought about
before.
3. Fact: There are people in various institutions who are catatonic or comatose and whom medical
science has not been able to reanimate."
4659-CM
"lam now considering what to me is the strong possibility that almost anything that can be formed
into five physical senses, language, oriented thought is an illusion.
Extraphysical feeling is as close as I can come to describing what is ultimate
reality for me now.
"When I seek to perceive ultimate reality for me, (what I think you are referring to when you use the
word 'home'), I experience blankness and bliss. Blankness, not because
it is blank, but because I attempt to experience it with mental processes that
are geared to the five physical senses and that are in the habit of
perceiving illusion. I am trying to use my biological illusion computer to
perceive beyond the apparent limits of illusion. Like trying to smell
a flower with your ear. I experience bliss because emotional feeling is
the only perceptual tool that I am able to use to sense beyond the
illusion. If there are other perceptual tools that are available to me, they are
either atrophied by lack of use, and must somehow be reactivated, or they
must be initially activated.
33-36
2312-CF
"
. . . During one 'Rebal' breathing exercise I experienced what was the
beginning of some rather puzzling happenings. For reasons unknown to me
I was suddenly in a black box—a void of total blackness. It
was like being juggled from one extreme to the other—from total
sensation to lack of sensation. Frustration began to invade me, for I
found it was somewhat difficult finding a way out of this vast
blackness. In my next tape I began to experience the blackness again,
and that's when I started to worry. At our next meal I mentioned what
was occurring to our trainer, hoping she might offer a solution.
"During our discussion, my problem was overheard by a few males at the
table who had apparently been listening in. Later one of the men took
me aside to explain. He told me that a few of the men in our group had
found themselves fantasizing about me during their own tape
experiences— hence all the sexual thought vibrations I was
picking up. He also told me that, having a hard time dealing with their
sexual attraction, they were putting me in their 'energy conversion
box' (a place to leave problems behind) before embarking into their
other states of consciousness. They had all helped put me in my black
void so as not to distract them! At first I was annoyed at this. How
dare they influence my experiences! How dare
their sexual energy have that much control over me! I still marvel at
how powerful thoughts are, and three men's directed at me was
overwhelming. At the same time I felt somewhat naive for not having
picked up the signs earlier, but I was much too wrapped up in how the
workshop was changing me to fully get into what others were thinking.
"But this was not the end. . . . I transformed my annoyance at being
used as a 'sex object,' even if only consciously projected, and started
wondering what growth could be gained from this experience. It started
me thinking along other lines and what was to follow would change the
course of my life.
"And it happened simply because I asked the divine forces in all
sincerity for me to be able to experience spiritual love. I asked not
for me to be the recipient of it but that I might learn how to give to
others to my fullest ability. My request was granted:
"As I went into the next tape I kept that thought in mind — I
wanted to feel what it would be like to feel a part of the love in the
universe, to in a sense actually be making love to a part of me, a part
of everyone.
I left my own CHEC Unit at that point (nonphysically; OOBE) and felt an
urge to visit my other Gateway participants. Straying into one room, I
called softly to one of the people. He seemed taken aback to see me and
I told him not to be alarmed, that I was only there to send him love
and then left after blowing him a quick goodbye kiss. (Later this
person recalled that he heard a soft voice in his ear calling his name.
He said that he had felt a surge of love upon hearing it but wasn't
sure where it came from.) "Then quite unexpectedly I was suddenly drawn
by a powerful force to one room in particular—to one CHEC
Unit in particular. It took me by total surprise, for the man in that
unit was someone I didn’t know very well. In fact, he was the
only one at the workshop I had never really had a chance to talk to. He
was a young, good-looking psychologist, yet for some reason we seemed
to be purposely avoiding each other.
"All at once I had an all-knowing, as I seemed to float over him, that
his vibrations were my vibrations.
I had an overwhelming desire to meld, to feel a part of
him—to become one. It was truly one of the sharpest and
clearest of experiences. "I gave to him both my body and soul until
there was this tremendous energy surge that rocked and exploded in us.
It was an experience that is beyond words, for love, total and
absolute, surrounded us more strongly than can' be earthly experienced
or imagined. The more I gave, the greater I received and I didn't want
to let go. I wanted to give him even more. It was like two energies in
perfect unison becoming one at last. (I can remember thinking how
physical sex paled in comparison.) "Memories of past lives together
came rushing in like flashes of light. We talked in this state and I
came to realize this experience could only have happened at the end of
the workshop as it did, for each of us would have been distracted had
we 'met' earlier on—perhaps hampering other growth
experiences that week. There was a meeting of both our minds with this
experience and I knew our meeting had been more than
coincidence—it was predestined. "I truly experienced
everything I asked for and more, and when I came down to the meeting
room after the tape there was an unusual heightened energy where people seemed to be flying. I saw 'him' as I came down the
stairs to join the group and he looked at me excitedly, ecstatically,
as if something totally incredible had happened to him. I
hadn’t said a word yet, as he quietly repeated a number of times, 'Thank you.
Thank you.' I felt elated—I had made contact. We compared our
individual experiences, making sure each of us was not coloring the
other's story. It didn't matter—our stories fit like puzzle
pieces, matching perfectly and interlocking.
We both had also had the use of all our senses— the strongest
being touch. "After this experience we were later reunited to share
others together. We've been with each other for the past two years
now—growing and loving together.
"So much did I learn at my Gateway experience—but I was truly
lucky to
get it all. I not only got the icing—I got the whole cake!"
Today the Gateway Program is held for a full seven-day period at our Center facility in Virginia. The Center is designed specifically to
handle the Gateway Program. No longer does one have to lie on the floor for taped exercises. Instead the Center now provides what are called CHEC Units (Controlled Holistic Environmental Chambers), which provide
isolation much as we had in our original laboratory booths. Not only are the taped exercises conducted by headphones in the CHEC Unit, but the participant actually sleeps in these during the night. Because it is
much like a Pullman berth on the old railroad trains, some people initially
feel they cannot sleep in there the first night, because of a sense of
claustrophobia perhaps. With the environmental treatment in the CHEC Unit— fresh air and temperature control plus sleep sounds that are
available—the main problem after the second night is to wake them up, the isolated
sleep has been so productive and restful. It helps achieve such a complete
sleep that a number of participants have built CHEC Units in their own homes.
Because the Gateway Program is so difficult to produce and conduct properly, each year we question the value of continuing it. All things considered, it is certainly not a financial success, although
supposedly we are the only research facility that charges for the privilege of being a volunteer. Each time we consider closing it down, we receive just
coincidentally another report from a graduate who states how meaningful and how constructive have been the results of his attendance. So we schedule another year of Gateways.
4. Explorer Team Amid the diversion of Gateway sessions, visitors ranging from
psychologists and electronics engineers to ex-flower children with backpacks, mail response to the original Journeys, we continued our research program
with our volunteer group in the laboratory. The group became consistently more proficient in achieving other forms of consciousness, including the out-of-body state. However, personal events in their lives (such as
moving to another city) brought the regular weekly group down to six. These
were the physicist, electronics engineer, social services executive,
transpersonal psychologist, office manager, and psychiatric counselor. I would have
liked to use actual names, but several felt their employers would take a dim
view of it all. Therefore, no names at all. One of the most peculiar aspects was that their experiences paralleled my own only in the preliminary stages. They could and did replicate my own near out-of-body experiences but from that point on there seemed little similarity. Possibly because of the confidence factor of a
monitor with whom to communicate, in some respects they had freedoms that I had never experienced. So that the picture is clear: The subject lies on a water bed in a
darkened, acoustically and electrically shielded 8-by-10 room (usually booth 2, everyone's favorite for some unknown reason). The booth has its own
airconditioning and heating controls. Electrodes for monitoring physiological states are glued to head, fingers, and body. A sound microphone hangs about four inches above the face. Audio headphones completely cover each ear. Most important, the subject has just gone to the bathroom to
be sure the bladder is empty. Too many sessions had been aborted because the subject reported a "problem" in the physical body, only to find
upon a hurried return that it was nothing more than a distended bladder.
Evidently the total physical relaxation encourages this body process. In the control room twenty feet down the hall, a human monitor (I or one of several others) communicates vocally through a sound system with the person in the booth.
39
The monitor also feeds Hemi-Sync sound into the subject's headphones, either to test responses to new frequencies
or to aid the subject in achieving desired states of consciousness. Finally,
the monitor observes and notes changes in instrument readouts on the
subject's physiological condition. Often an assistant is present to help in the processing. Here is a typical "entry" report, the beginning of an OOBE, transcribed from an early file recording during an experiment:
SS/ROMC (OFFICE MANAGER) 7 MINUTES IN----TEST #188
"I am going rapidly now through a tunnel—I was standing
straight up and now I am just sort of sucked up through this tunnel. It is very
narrow and I am rapidly shooting through this tunnel. Now I can see a point of light at the other end. I am traveling rapidly to this point of light.
It is like I am on some type of light beam that is helping to propel me. I am coming out. I am going into a different dimension and I have just
completely slowed down. And I am right at the opening of this point. And now I am gently coming through and everything is green. It is so bright that it is almost blinding because of coming out of a dark tunnel. It
is a different feeling. Now it is a real strong energy that seems to be
pressing against me. It is a great feeling now. This is a new energy level. I
feel a
strong—everything around me is green. It is so bright that it
is taking me a minute to adjust and to absorb where I am." There was one "small" problem. Once our subjects passed through the light or achieved the out-of-body state, they were not particularly
interested in hour after hour of dull searching for new effective sound frequency patterns. They would still perform the tasks, but beyond the tunnel and into the light was Paris! Keeping them on the farm was certainly no trivial problem. So we had to play a little. And play we did. We sent our subjects to explore the moon, which they found a very dull place. We went to other parts of the solar system, the other planets, and found them, as far as we could determine, nothing but mile after mile of craters and mountains or simply layers of turbulent matter—no vegetation, no sign of life, nothing to truly
attract our human attention. We did find that in such a state as the OOBE, a different
kind of consciousness seemed to exist. The overview of the subject was
different. For example, what to us in the control room was a minute could
become hours or timeless to the volunteer in the booth. It was at this point that we began to call them our Explorer team. Like most humans, we were possessed with the idea or hope that there had to be intelligent life somewhere among the billions of stars that we could perceive physically. So in our play we took to sending our
Explorers out beyond the solar system at what appeared a near-instantaneous change of locale. The instruction was to keep going until he or she perceived something worthwhile. They passed by the other suns, found other
planets, but no intelligent life. It seemed to us a sterile universe.
The change came in 1974. It took place in all of our Explorers within several weeks. Some had never met one another, so there was no
crosscommunication.
In looking back to examine the reason for this massive change, the only thing that we could find was: we had inserted the
affirmation developed for the Gateway Program at the beginning of each experimental session in the lab. Other than that, we made no significant changes in Hemi-Sync frequencies, basic environment, or methods of presentation. It may have been the second part that was the catalyst:
. . . Also, I deeply desire the help and cooperation, the assistance,
the understanding of those individuals whose wisdom, development, and
experience
are equal to or greater than my own. I ask their guidance and protection from any influence or any source that might provide me with less than my stated desires.
It was suddenly as if a curtain had been lifted. Almost every time one
of our Explorers went into the out-of-body state or simply into an advanced Focus 12, they encountered intelligent beings who were more or less
willing to communicate—and could do so. After several years of
finding only barrenness, the effect upon us was overwhelming. We sometimes had difficulty knowing how to handle it. Here is a portion of the transcript from the file recording of one of these early meetings.
41
SS/TC (PHYSICIST) XAL—8:12 MIN #332
"Back into regular 12. Had two encounters—the first with an
unseen intelligence who replied to a general query for communications. Sort of an 'I'll talk to you,' but it was obvious that he (I guess I say 'he'
because I got the feeling of a 'he') wanted to listen and said 'O.K., what do you want to talk about?' And as I tried to put the burden on him or it for some information about itself, about its environment, I got the feeling
it was angry for being bothered. Sort of like bumping into a busy New York pedestrian. The second was much more interesting. The second
communication, I didn't just get an intelligence, but got a complete visual image. Female, late thirties, and she was very pleased to communicate and offered to show me around and showed me a lot of the facility. I don't know what else to call it that she was in. We walked up to this
wall and two big doors swung open and there was nothing there that seemed impressive at all, but she thought that these markings and
irregularities of the surface were quite something. I don't know why. Ididn’t
relate to it at all. I asked her if she was in any way familiar with physical matter existence as I knew it and she asked me to explain. I really
didn’t know how to explain physical matter, so I asked if it was all right if I came back and that I wanted to leave to report in. She seemed a little
dismayed that I was taking off after getting partway through the tour, but she
said, 'all right,' and that brings us up to the present moment."
Monitor: "Very good. In your return, try and understand the type of energy being utilized there."
(TIME LAPSE: 3 minutes)
"O.K., I thought I had better report back again before I forgot much of what went on. Reestablished contact with same female. She was quite surprised that
I did return. Pleased. At first, I began to wonder what
this intelligence really looked like to itself. Was I just imposing my own image of female humanoid form? And we discussed this, realizing that I was creating this image of her and could not really tell whether this
was her own image of herself or not. She, likewise, was creating an image of me in a likeness to which she was familiar, and whether or not these likenesses were similar, mine and hers, there was no way to tell, so we
left that question. Then I got an itch of some intensity that began on my neck and tried to explain that I existed in another reality besides the
one
I was sharing with her and that I had a physical body elsewhere and that the physical body had an itch on its neck and was disturbing the focus
of my attention, and that is why I seemed to be fading in and out as my attention wavered. She seemed to think that was quite incredible. I
don't believe she believed me at all. She just kind of ignored that statement like one might ignore somebody who says an irrational thing. I asked about her physics. She took me to another place where there was another entity. This one male, and there was a writing surface, much like a blackboard, but not a blackboard, whereupon he attempted to explain the nature of things there. We had no success at all with his writing. The marks he made on this surface, this blackboard, were totally
unintelligible to me, and after a few efforts we gave up. We tried to go to pictures. All the time we could communicate telepathically. Pictures
were O.K. He drew some pictures, and from the telepathic exchange, I felt that their science, indeed their concept of their existence and reality
was in many ways similar to our own, in that they were fixed in that reality and could not travel out of it, as I had traveled out of physical
reality into theirs. I do not know whether they even believed that there was another reality other than their own. They had a physical science much as we do, in that objects in their reality obeyed specific laws. I tried to see
if any of their laws were similar to ours, such as gravitation. It was very
difficult to tell. I could not separate what was their concept of their reality, all
I could do was translate into my own concepts, meaning I did not see them floating around in air, but whether that was because they experience a
thing like gravity like we do or whether that was a function of my own experience, visualizing humanoids not floating in the air, I could not
tell. But I did feel that they had a basic physical science that ruled the
objects of their reality. They did not move things around by thought processes
or anything like that.
42
It seemed like an Earth-type physical reality to
them, although I don't recognize many of their devices and
structures—seemed
very foreign, but they seemed to be fixed and isolated within those
devices and structures. Somehow I appear to them as one of their own
kind, whether that's humanoid or not, I don't know. Maybe I should have
tried to find out where they think I came from or who they think I
might be." Here is another, to give you a feeling for a different point
of contact:
SS/JCA (SOCIAL SERVICES EXECUTIVE) 6:27 MIN #356
"/ am talking with my green man and practicing going up and down to
where they are . . . and found out why he has this green robe. He said
that he did not need it but that I needed it to make me more
comfortable with him. And he said that I still have some fears, so he
still wants
me to feel more comfortable with going in and out of my body. . . . I
want to sit and talk with him some more. . . . he just kind of sat down
and talked about me and where I am. And he told me that he is kind of
my overseer. And he is responsible, somewhat responsible for my growth
and development. Overseer in that contact and responsibility.
Apparently he has been through a lot of lives and different lifetimes .
. . and I
don't know if they are a part of him or not. "I feel very comfortable
here, like this is where I belong and I have
felt like this before. Think I made some progress, because this time I
did
not need any folks to help me. I was just there seeing them. More like
a
vote of confidence than anything else. I asked him what he was doing
here and he said, 'Here, that is something that you are trying to
pinpoint. Here isn't . . . here does not matter.' I don't know why but
I really
feel very tired. I feel like I am ready to come back all of a sudden. I
noticed it
before, that it was like a flash, but it was dark in here. There was a
surprise because it was just like a flash of light that came on." Far
more significant were the instances where our Explorers quickly "made
friends" with a being or beings (entities?) who seemed to have no
special interest in or connection to or with our Explorer. Here is a
sample of an Explorer response to one of these: EXPLORER TEAM I SS/BY
(ELECTRONICS ENGINEER) 26:20 MIN #325
"I recontacted the source and asked the source about his pointers and
perspective and asked him if he was familiar with the earth and his
reply was 'Yes, that is my territory.' I got the idea that the Earth
was sort
of his assigned beat. I also got the idea that he and other entities
are made available to us to help us maximize or get through our earth
experience. I don't mean 'get through' like 'get it over with.' I mean
to help us get
as much out of it as possible. They are there like explainers or
helpers
and not particularly assigned to earth duty. I then asked about
geological conditions in the next ten years. He picked data up from my
mind and knew what I was thinking about and said, 'I didn’t know that
information was available.' He was surprised that this information was
given out or had been released. He was not aware that such information
was being released." Another type occurred in this fashion:
SS/SHE (PSYCHIATRIC COUNSELOR) 16:14 MIN #314
". . . Point of light. Other than that, I don't perceive anything."
Monitor: "How does the light feel?"
"It feels like a star. When I focus on it, I begin to float."
Monitor: "Experiment with the light."
"Now they are getting closer, now I am getting closer to them."
(TIME LAPSE: 2:55)
New Voice: "How are you?"
Monitor: "I am very glad to meet you. I am very thankful that you came."
43
New Voice: "It is hard to get here."
Monitor: "What is the difficulty?"
New Voice: "There are many layers to penetrate."
Monitor: "We are very, very grateful that you did penetrate the layers
to us. We will help in any way that we can."
New Voice: "Her color pattern is very good. We must find a way to help her let go."
Monitor: "Do you have any recommendations?"
New Voice: "There needs to be a period in which she goes very deep."
Monitor: "A longer preliminary period, then, would you suggest?"
New Voice: "Possibly. It will get easier as the trust builds. There is
still a lot of fear."
Monitor: "I am very grateful for your concern for her."
New Voice: 'Wow she is feeling a lot of disharmony. I have taken her to
a place where she can rest."
In this case, the subject had no memory whatsoever of the event or
encounter. The last that she remembered was working with the colors.
Changes in voice quality and monitoring instruments supported the idea
of another "presence" or personality in the body of SHE. We had much
discussion of the advisability of continuing along this route, in spite
of the immense interest and excitement it generated among our group.
The fact of the matter is, I suspect, there was at that stage no actual
means
that we knew of to "turn off" such communication. I suspect also that
no one wanted to anyway, at the least, myself. One Explorer developed a
very close relationship with what appeared to be some four or five
beings, one of whom acted as a spokesman. Here is the transcript of the
recording of a major step in that relationship.
SS/ROMC (OFFICE MANAGER) 8:05 MIN #306
"I was watching what happened and experiencing at the same time. The
four helpers just helped to lift, as this energy body just came to
my physical body. The four helpers helped to lift my energy body out,
and I just felt real light and really, really good and got the sense
then
that this energy form that was then sort of implanted or just, in other
words, it
was in my body then. It was just energizing my body. It was just light
and well protected, and I felt good being out and felt very light and
then I could sense that energy of being. One person was just talking
about how they could or would like to experiment in trying to use my
body sort of like a transmitting set between dimensions. I'll be able
to step out and feel very safe and confident with these helpers and
light and happy and still be able to observe, if I would like, what's
going on with the
energy being."
Monitor: "Do they want to perform any other experiment now?"
"O.K. The feeling that maybe they would just like to experiment a
little bit with talking maybe through my vocal cords, but I still am
not out far enough that
I might get out of the way. It will be with practice and
experimentation, and then as I learn to be less, I mean be more relaxed
and just let it flow and go along and not let my mind stop it.
The more they practice, it will be able to flow more rapidly, so they
just
want to experiment for just a short time with trying to come through
with
some thoughts through my vocal cords and my mental faculties, so to
speak. So we will just see what, we will try to see what happens here."
Monitor: "Right. I will be here if you need me."
"O.K."
(TIME LAPSE: 3:23)
New Voice: "Greetings. I am speaking through these vocal cords and I
would like to speak to this young lady as she observes what is taking
place. Her physical body is seeming to heat up very rapidly. Sometimes
it will be in a cool stage, but other times it will be in a heated
stage,
and the molecules of the energy body, which is working through her
physical body, is working at a more rapid rate and, therefore, right at
this
time, there is a feeling of heat surrounding this body. This young lady
will understand what is happening when we first come into her aura.
There will be the feeling of warmth, and as she gets more relaxed and
is able
to begin her float above her physical body, she will experience as the
coolness and feeling of relaxation, complete relaxation, the feeling of
complete calm, complete peace, and complete security. And then there
will be the light stage and the coolness that will come over her and
she will know that she is gently going out of the body, but will always
be in complete control if she so chooses. She is always there to
observe, to speak at any time, or can always even choose to step into
other
dimensions; and there will be those who will help her into those other
dimensions, and while this is taking place, we will work with trying to
bring through information through these vocal cords. This is a special
experiment of stepping into knowledge dimensions, and this could never
be done were it not for you with the knowledge that you bring and with
the great light and confidence that you surround this whole project
that you work on. I have worked with others who will come in as we
reach
different dimensions and levels. We will not say higher or lower—they
are
light dimensions as we break through into the various levels. It is
easier to bring through the knowledge. I am working now on the level
where this entity is presently, but we will work together through
various
levels. There are others who are working with her. I speak in terms of
'we' because each time that
I come, we come as a group, there are the others, who are the
assistants and will always be there to bring the energy
levels up and to work. And we say that you are doing exactly what is
necessary to help the situation to be in that perfected state whereby
the energies can be released into other levels of consciousness. And
now we will step out and allow her to step back fully into her own
body. It is a
privilege. Thank you, dear friends."
Her confidence in the group was so great that their assistance was very
much standard operating procedure. For example, in order to help her
get out of the body, four of these beings would position themselves,
two on each side, and simply "lift her out." This made it all the
simpler to
get on with what had to be done. An interesting sidelight to this
particular routine took place some months later. The Explorer ROMC
usually had a lab session at five
o'clock on Wednesdays. On this particular Wednesday she had canceled
several days in advance. By coincidence on that Wednesday, a female
psychologist from the Washington area dropped in to visit. She was
quite skeptical of what we were doing, and we spent several hours that
afternoon going over our methods and techniques. Finally, in order to
help her
understand a little better, I suggested that she go into booth 2 and
lie down and
listen to some of the Hemi-Sync patterns and find out for herself if
she had
any response to them. She agreed, fully expecting that there would be
nothing unusual about what was to happen. With her skepticism, I was
inclined to agree. After about five minutes in the booth with the
Hemi-Sync sound in her ears, her voice came through the intercom
speaker. "There is someone else in the booth with me." I pushed the
microphone button. "Are you sure?" I asked. "Of course I am sure. As a
matter of fact, there are
four of them." I made contact again. "Are you sure there are four?"
"I can perceive them very clearly. There are two at my feet and two at my head."
I
pushed the mike button again. "What are they doing?" "They are trying
to lift me out of my body, if you can believe that." Suddenly I knew
the answer.
I looked up at the clock. It was ten minutes after five—on Wednesday
afternoon. ROMC's friends can get trapped in routines, too. I burst out
laughing. I was about to reach for the microphone and explain it to the
woman in the booth when I thought better of it. I pushed the mike
button. "What are they doing now?"
48
"They have stopped trying to lift me out of my body," her voice came back. "And they are arguing,"
It was difficult to keep a calm voice as I responded. "What are they arguing about?"
"The four want to lift me out, and now there is a fifth that is arguing with them that they should not."
"Do you want them to?" I asked.
"I don't think so," her voice came back. "Now they have stopped arguing
and they are going away, so I guess there is no problem."
I smiled as I pushed the mike button and said, "Well, just relax a bit
and I'll get you out in few minutes. Are you comfortable now?"
"Oh yes," she responded. "I am fine."
I left her in the booth for some ten to fifteen minutes and watched as
the gauges showed that she was relaxing into a light sleep. After a
suitable time
I awakened her and brought her out much refreshed. She was somewhat
bewildered by the experience and made a valiant attempt to stay
skeptical.
I
showed her the appointment schedule that usually called for an
experimental session, then I played a recording of the actual
"lifting out" techniques as described by the Explorer subject. She
finally left, a very puzzled and preoccupied individual. Things like
that are hard on belief systems when they happen to most people. The
problem was that so many were happening to us. There were many
suspenseful moments. It should be noted here that reaching this state
of trust and
communication and/or association with these friendly entities and
beings took hours and hours of preliminary contact, plus "third party"
communication discussions. It did not happen overnight to the degree
indicated here. A great mass of material provided through such beings
had to do with
information of a philosophic nature or suggestions and advice regarding
the persona] well-being of the Explorers involved. In no case was any
drug
or
any other medication used in any of our experiments. Moreover, there
are indications that a magnetic field is generated of a type with which
our science is unfamiliar. One of the results of this
is to set up magnetic fields in nearby electrical loops as well as
audio
cables. Another is to affect nearby magnetic tape to such an extent
that a
"printthrough" takes place from one layer of tape to another. The
recording industry would like very much to know how to do this at a
commercial level. However, of course, the results that we have are not
significant enough to be commercially viable. Not yet, at least.
One night, when we got into our cars parked outside some twenty feet
from booth 2, we found that the batteries were dead in all three cars.
They jump-started quite easily, as it was a summer night, and stayed in
charge afterward. Cars parked on the other side, or sixty feet away,
were unaffected. Thus we learned we had better not park too close to
booth 2 during certain experiments with specific Explorers. Exactly why
this
took place—and still does so—we don't know.
In the current Explorer group, only two remain from the original team.
The tide of personal events has moved the others away from the area,
their lives visibly altered by the experience. The original material is
still being processed. Meanwhile, more is entering through sessions in
our new lab facility.
Perhaps we need a few more doctors, with other credentials.
5. New Associations
In hundreds of
hours of Explorer communication to date, about one-third consists of
those instances where, with the Explorer's permission, their friendly
entities take over their physical bodies and speak using the
Explorer's vocal cords. The other two-thirds are contacts made by the
Explorer, who then converses with the nonphysical third party and
reports the conversation. In both cases, the monitor in the control
room (living physical domain!) becomes a part of such discussions. What
we call the Explorer Material is a combination of fascinating,
baffling, awe-inspiring, thought-provoking, sometimes boring data that
is certainly much in conflict with many of the belief systems that we
have within our culture and civilization. The most important
possibility by
far is the reality of the Explorer Material, their experiences, and
especially these friendly entities who assist them. Second to this is
the fact
that the process is ongoing, expanding. To resolve that possibility one
way or another will take some doing and some capacities far beyond the
limits of our organization.
In examining the Explorer sessions in consensus, certain elements repeat themselves:
1.
Whatever they may be, such nonphysical third parties have the ability
to radiate a warmth of friendliness that evokes complete
trust—even with their lives—on the part of the Explorers.
2. Such beings are first of all totally solicitous as to the well-being
of the Explorer and spend much time in attempting to advance the best
mental and physical state of the human being with whom they are
"associated."
3. A being usually appears to the Explorer in the form of a hooded
figure whose face is hidden in shadow and apparently invisible to the
Explorer.
51
Once
the Explorer becomes completely familiar with the "feel" of the entity,
the hooded robe is discarded and the Explorer can perceive nothing, but
still senses the radiation that is the entity.
4. In speaking to the Explorer, the being is limited in vocabulary to
that in the memory bank of said Explorer. Therefore it often shows
hesitation in searching for the correct word to express what needs to
be described—and often there is no such word in the memory of the
individual.
5. During visits by certain of these beings, especially when they use
the physical body to speak through, there is a change in body voltage
and other biomonitoring data in the Explorer. Without further comment,
here are excerpts from various sessions.
SS/TC (PHYSICIST) 22:30 MIN #372
"I've gotten all kinds of things, and I've been trying to sort them and
put them into some kind of rational order. First of all, I had the
impression that physical matter reality—inasmuch of I guess what is
normally called reality, not only physical matter, but also a certain
amount of
our daydreaming and our imaginative intuitive qualities—is part
of a, sort of like a large daydream or thought from a higher
consciousness, fast as we can daydream and invent characters and
situations, we are characters in
a situation that was invented or dreamt, quite consciously dreamt by a
more advanced sort of consciousness. The part that we have to play in
this daydream is one of education, one of learning and bettering
ourselves, striving to become more. Now, I'm not clear why this kind of
overconsciousness or over-soul is having this daydream, but I have the
feeling that it is for its own education. It learns as we learn.
Anyway, we have such limited consciousness to begin because if you are
going to set up a situation where you expect certain processes to
happen—these
processes,
of course, are our education, our learning—you don't set up
the most complex and involved experiment or situation. You set up a
simple one that you can produce, that still has the qualities to get
the results
that you want. This is the reason that we are seemingly of such limited
consciousness. But the reason that we have an option to develop our
consciousness more fully is part of the experiment itself.
52
We are to learn and grow
and evolve and become and learn through experience in doing, and as
closely as we can come to understanding and being a part of, our
understanding a part of our creator, our over-soul daydreamer, if you
like, then sort
of the more power to us. The more of that we can understand, then the
more learning that we've acquired. So it's not really—well, I
take that back. It's not so much that we are driven to expand our
awareness or
that we should be, other than it's available, and being available makes
it a direction in which we can evolve if we so choose. That's a little
jumbled to myself, but that's the way it's coming out."
SS/SHE (SOCIAL WORKER) 18 MIN #366
"I've been on a, almost like a vortex I was caught in. Twenty-two is
not physical in any way. Twenty-one can be either physical or
nonphysical, depending on where you choose to focus the energy. "It's
neither up nor down nor forward or backward. Twenty-one, all appear
very comfortable, but very different.
The sense I have like a
rainbow going before me of colors, and they are like the colors that
Miranon has described, but they are all going at different beats and
moving. It
is like I see a spectrum of 22 through, I don't know, through 28,
something like that and they are all interwoven. I think I could draw
it for you.
I like 21, so I have just kind of stayed here and the sense that I have, it's
like, when you asked that, I got the illusion of looking at a sunset and
having
it sense that the horizon is the end, but that it's only an illusion
because as you go forward in the levels, new levels arise."
(TIME LAPSE: 1:22)
Other
Voice: "I apologize for being so late, but I need to thank you
and to tell you that I am glad you received my message. If you would
like to explore these levels, I would be very happy to do so with you."
Monitor: "I would appreciate it very much."
Other Voice: "As
I have said to you earlier, plants exist on levels one through seven.
They are on a vibrational rate on the levels one through seven. It is
the same pattern. Animals exist on the levels eight through fourteen,
and when a person attains, when a consciousness attains level fourteen,
it can no longer go any higher unless it is willing to change
its form of consciousness. Levels fifteen through twenty-one are what
you call human life on this earth. When a person progresses to level
twentyone, he then has the choice of going higher or staying within the
realm of human form, but he cannot go higher unless he is willing to
give up human form."
53
Monitor: "Give up being human?"
Other
Voice: "Levels twenty-two through twenty-eight are your bridge. They
are your levels that you enter upon death. You are on level twenty and
because that is an ascending level, you can enter into the realm beyond
physical life, but you cannot stay there unless you are willing
to give up your human form. Is that clear?"
Monitor: "That much is clear, yes."
Other Voice: "And then once a person or a consciousness—we
are talking about consciousness—reaches level twenty-eight, the bridge
is
crossed, and from that point on for a consciousness to evolve higher,
it would
not again assume human form of any kind, not even as a learning
experience. I will never incarnate again as a human—as another form of
life, yes, but not as a human. The words are very hard because your
plane of existence is not the same. Perhaps I can explain it by asking
you to image seven
of the circles, which would give you the forty-nine levels. The first
three levels are physical matter as you know physical matter. They are
your plants, your animals, your humans. The fourth circle is your
bridge,
your realm, your center for that overall plane.
It is the time in which a
consciousness can choose whether to go back into the lower levels or to
transcend into the higher levels, and many consciousnesses do choose to
go back into the lower levels in physical form. The upper three circles
are the realm that in your consciousness is called the spiritual realm,
and here much of the work is done. I could not help someone who was not
on the eighteenth level very much because my plane, my vibrational rate
would be different.
54
This
is why it is hard for me to help you with
specific problems. I can give you ideas, but I cannot give you the
direct
guidance I could if you were on level eighteen. Our planes do touch
since yours is
an ascending spiral—an ascending, what is your word for that? It
is an ellipse. It is an ascending ellipse, and therefore I can cross
and
communicate with you, but not as directly. Once I reach level
forty-nine, which I will, I then leave all of this realm of existence.
It does not mean I
have reached the highest point by any means. It simply means I have
left this group of seven, this overall group of seven. Imagine, if you
will, the
seven circles enclosed in an even larger circle upon which seven more
circles
are stacked, which is in turn enclosed in even a great circle. Then you
can have some idea of what infinity is. It does not ever stop."
Monitor: "Well, I must confess that 'it' is kind of hard on my tiny,
poor physical matter consciousness."
Other Voice: "That is true. I must—it is very hard on my
consciousness also. I feel at times, because I am very near to completing this
circle,
that I have accomplished a major evolvement for my consciousness, but
then when I try to explain it, I realize just how far I have yet to go
and
how little I have actually gone through. Because my level of
consciousness
is one of love, I leave you with love. Good day."
SS/SCA (EXECUTIVE) 34 MIN #402
Monitor:
"Ask him to describe this interactive unit that is you now and your
physical body. What is this relationship between this energy form and
your physical body?" (About Parallel Personalities)
55
"Part
of my energy that I have when I'm out of body is used to build my body.
When I use this energy to build my body here on Earth, it blocks . . .
or curves my thinking processes so it doesn’t go
out of body. The thinking process needs to be curved to communicate
with the other personalities here on Earth again. This is one type of
communication when I'm out of body. I take most of that energy that is
used for my
body with me but enough to keep the body informed is left here. It
permits me to open up my mind and allows me to communicate with other
personalities, other brains so to speak, to communicate with, to learn
from, to talk to."
Monitor: "At what point do you first enter to become a part of this physical body?"
"Apparently when, although fertilization is a mechanical thing, a
chemical thing . . . the personalities out of body are very much aware
of when things happen and choose at that time to develop the fetus or
not to develop. So part of my energy at this moment may be used to
develop a personality and I may have several personalities going on at
the same time, being developed at the same time."
Monitor: "At the same time in the physical kind of reality?"
"Yes, yes. They tell me right now, one is old, one is crippled, one is
male, and where they are I am not ready to know. . . and I could feel
being old and crippled but I could not feel being male."
Monitor: "Is this entering of the physical body limited just to the
planet Earth or other planets?"
"We go to other places. There are beings on other places and our energy is aware of all these other places."
Monitor: "Do we inhabit physical bodies in these other places?"
"Not like human Earth bodies . . . but . . . other forms of things or beings."
Monitor: "What are some of the other forms on planets? What are these other forms?"
"One's like a gelatin kind of thing . . . slimy kinds of things."
Monitor: "Are these located anywhere near the planet Earth?"
"Thousands of light-years away."
56
Monitor: "In this energy, is there a set of rules in which one operates?
"I'm not sure what you are asking."
Monitor: "Is there a set of rules in which the body operates?"
"No, the energy itself decides if the energy itself makes a wrong
decision, then it destroys itself. If it makes correct decisions it builds or
strengthens its personality. It is possible for the energy to destroy
itself."
Monitor: "What is classified then as misuse?"
"When
it has not added to its present knowledge, when it has not gained
anything more than it had learned previously. It is more than
just a question of good or bad or good or evil. For example, killing by
itself would not mean that it was destroying the energy by killing the
animal
or another human being. Not just adding to the knowledge, but enhancing
the personality, the deed actually enhances previous knowledge or
understanding that is used as addition . . . strength. If the killing
was for the sake of killing, if nothing was learned, nothing gained,
then it could destroy the overall personality. But there also seems to
be a hierarchy
of understanding and as the energy is strengthened it moves up a
hierarchy of knowing (killing process is also releasing the Energy of
Balance! LM)"
Monitor: "Then where does this hierarchy of knowing lead to?"
"It's very important to become a move toward a unified whole like there
is one on the top. . . As the personalities move and merge the more
knowledgeable . . . the level of understanding increases as they move
up. It doesn’t make sense verbally, but visually it makes
a lot of sense."
Monitor: "All right, then I think you have given us a lot of material
to think about, so thank your guide and ask if there is a name that he
goes by."
"He doesn't want to give a name right now because he doesn't want it to
interfere with the training that we are doing . . . be too concrete,
I need to be more and more aware and he can do his work better right
now without me giving him a name."
57
Monitor: "Ask him if there is any other training exercise that he would like you to perform before we close this session."
'No, he thinks I've gone . . . further than he really anticipated."
SS/MSL (PSYCHOLOGIST) 8:22 MIN #375
Monitor: "Ask your friend how we got here in the first place. How we got on the planet Earth and in space-time."
"I
felt like I was being taken back in time and could feel a bombardment
of particles . . . of matter . . . and actually seeing the bombardment
of particles. Some particles that fuse together actually became a
working mechanism. I guess the only thing that we can understand and
relate it
to would be like a computer. And as a fusion of these particles
occurred, they actually started communicating with one another by the
heat of the light or the energy that they were radiating. And once they
knew they were communicating with one another, and that is trying to
communicate on the same level. And there were lots of these things. And
they wanted to find out what they could do with this
communication— how far they could go, could expand, could see, could
think. They
developed Earth and actually built Earth. They took a part of
themselves, played around with animals, people, and they realized the
number. How many they could produce just from one. Like one of these
things could have thousands of people, parts of them, situated
everywhere. The
problem after a time, though, they created better minds, or thinking machines, and the event that the original should die or disintegrate.
58
They are not long-lasting, in the sense of thousands and thousands of
years, they are not forever kinds of things. Our spirits seemed to be
an
improved
model of the original. The original has disintegrated."
Monitor: "Did the spirit originate in this process?"
"The spirit was a result of that. The spirit resulted from the fusion
of these particles. The particles were matter fused together. That was
Spirit (a small part of the Energy of Balance, LM) also. It was and that Spirit (a small part of the Energy of Balance, LM) lived
for thousands and thousands and
thousands of years and it disintegrated and before it disintegrated it
rebuilt something that was better and it knew that it was going to die.
It was going to disintegrate and it created the Spirit that I now
communicate with. So in a sense, they (Humans) both can be called
Spirits or Superminds. But your Spirit could be and is different from
my Spirit."
Monitor: "How many such Spirits are there such as the one you are
communicating with?"
"Only a thousand."
Monitor: "Did they remain in the vicinity of Earth?"
"They don't know that term 'vicinity.' Vicinity to them is, as long as
it is within millions of millions of miles of their reach it is in their
vicinity. To us it means very close. Their minds can reach out over millions of light-years."
Monitor: "Are there communications with other spirits or other
intelligent entities?"
"They have created them. If they have created them, yes, there are."
Monitor: "Why do they give so much attention to man?"
"They
are creation. Like I said before, months ago, we are experiments. We
are the tester to see how far this spirit can think, can fuse particles
together. Can see what its potential is. They are still
experimenting to see what their own potential is and we are one part of
that experiment."
Monitor: "Are we an important or a minor part of this experiment?"
"They are afraid that all the brains that they created could fathom it
or could take it. It is like some of the brains that they have developed
would short out."
Monitor: "Have they created all of the human brains that are on the planet Earth?"
"Yes."
Monitor: "I see."
"They know everything that is going on.. To clarify one thing, when
humans have offspring, they don't necessarily control the offspring but
it is part of the experimentation to see what results from the mating.
When two parts of a spirit or two different spirits actually mate, what
happens? . . . they don't know and that is part of the experimentation."
Monitor: "Can your spirit be in touch with my spirit?"
"Yes. Anytime."
Monitor: "Ask your spirit to see if he can be in touch with my spirit
and see if there is any special message that my spirit has for me."
"I am feeling uncomfortable about going to other spirits and he was
laughing at me for doing this, for feeling uncomfortable. Even though I
did it with my mother. I just better come on back."
60
Monitor: "Right. And then, thank your spirit."
"O.K."
SS/NVP (DECORATOR) 92:30 MIN #388
"Blessed are they who seek me. In seeking me, their long period of
forgetfulness is coming to an end. They are awakening to who they truly
are—a living part of me, manifesting life and radiating love. "You have
forgotten to look for me, much less gaze upon my countenance, oh, ye of
little faith. There are countless numbers who live in the expectancy of
my coming. In truth, I never left. "Let him who has ears to hear, let
him hear, now. "You seek me amidst your blindness. You look upon me
without
recognition. You touch my hand and know not whom you have touched. "You
proclaim my name and my teachings as it suits you and the occasion.
Awaken, behold the reality of my being that is among you. "I am the
earthquake, wind, and fire. I am the still small voice piercing the
thunderous tumult. I am the peace beyond all understanding...I am the
love that overcometh all things. l am the light that illumines the
minds of wome/men. l am the sustenance of human's souls. I am your life
and you are my own. I am the very breath you breathe...Do not despair,
I will never leave thee nor forsake thee, nor can you truly forsake me,
for we are one. Let the old way be gone. It must die and its ashes be
blown to the four corners of the Earth. The new is emerging but you
must change your perspective. Do not look for me in the form of a man.
The time is not
yet. But look for me in the life that speaks to you in your everyday
activities. You have looked amiss. I have no limitations and am not
bound by physical dimensions. I defy logic and am beyond your
conceptual imaginings. I live and move and have my being in all there
is. You have sought me amiss...Look upon your brother and see my face.
Bend over a still pool. Do not be deceived. The image that you see
reflected is my own. Do you not see the truth now? Learn of me. Take
within your hand a leaf, a stone, a drop of water, and know that
nothing exists that does not contain me. Have you not known that I am
eternal life and therefore recognize
neither the past nor the future? Only the now, that is. Live in the
now, with me. I stand in the light, as you stand in the light. But you
do not know of your light. I am here to show you that your light and my
light are one
and the same. Once you recognize this divine light to be a part of all
that
is, will you then begin to understand your own relationship to life, to
your creator, and thereby to your own censonship eternal. I neither
slumber nor sleep and you must leant that your soul neither slumbers
nor sleeps. Once you realize this, you are aware of your
spiritual vitality and wakefulness to your high consciousness. In so
knowing you will understand that I am truly closer than your hands and
your feet. In this knowing, in this knowledge, we are one. Live in
truth. Be truth. Live in beauty. Become an artist in living. Live in me
and let me express you. I reside in all space and no space, all time
and no time. Once you turn and become a part of my reality, all power
is restored unto you. This is the power that makes you one with all
things. This is the power that will set you free.
All of the Explorer Material has one characteristic in common. They
pose more questions than they answer. As they say, we have a problem
here. We thought our "new" associations would provide answers.
61
But for every answer, at least fifty new
questions arise out of the Explorer Material. Therefore, it became time to stop counting the trees and look at the
forest instead. And so we did.
6. Segue
Not being at all loath to borrow a word
or term from one cultural
context and apply it aptly here, "segue" is defined as a proper
interlude of
musical melodies and harmonies that moves from the conclusion of one
composition to the introduction of another. "Proper" infers a
transition that smoothly loses that previous theme or mood and sets the
stage for what
is to come. So this is a segue. The movement from what we have labeled
"local traffic," i.e., events and activities that relate directly to
here-now
time— space, filled with much congestion, motivations, devious highways
and byways, misconceptions, overwhelming emotions, detours, road
repairs, confusing and conflicting signposts, inaccurate road maps,
baits and
lures both subtle and obnoxious—and dreams, ideas, learning, love .
. . To "interstate," where virtually all of the rules, patterns,
illusions,
and the rest of "local traffic," with few exceptions, are nonexistent.
To begin the segue, here is the mix of premises and conclusions we had
reached by mid-1984:
1. All humans move into the out-of-body state during sleep. Going,
falling, dropping asleep is simply a process of moving out of phase with physical
time-space. As the event takes place, the various stages of sleep are
readily interpreted if viewed from this perspective. Thus deep or "delta" sleep
represents
the point where consciousness is completely detached from physical
reality, and the physical body is operating on an autonomic
basis
with preprogrammed alert and alarm systems to recall consciousness if
needed. The fact that most human consciousnesses do not or cannot recall
or remember these nightly excursions is insufficient proof that they do
not take place. A night on booze can provide the same degree of amnesia.
64
2.
A form of dynamic energy yet to be identified and measured by main
stream human civilization is present in all carbon-based organic life.
It is this essence in organized form (Soul - piece of Balance) that
enters the physical body prior to
birth and departs at death presumably more educated and with a minimum
of wear and tear. The difference between the human version (physical
body) and that of a cow's or a worm's is only a degree of complexity of
such organization.
3. The dominant waking consciousness that Human considers of paramount
importance in the scheme of his existence is but a part—and
perhaps the lesser—of the various forms thereof used by and/or
available
to him. The addition of other parts can be made systematically, albeit
carefully,
to the dominant without danger or destruction. The result may be of a
magnitude beyond the comprehension of the present dominant, therefore
engendering, at the least, anxieties—at the most, total
rejection.
4. Human consciousness is but a manifestation of a system generated
under (2). As a vibrational pattern—multilayered and of many
interacting and resonating frequencies—it responds to and acts upon
like
patterns from external sources. The key to greater utilization thus may
be the creation and application of external vibration at appropriate
resonating frequencies so as to enhance a desired or needed specific.
5. Human and other patterns of consciousness are inherently
nonphysical. As such, they are not time-space-dependent. Once released
from physical
restraints, they move into ambience and environment in accordance with
the then total energy matrix generated by each and the complexity
contained therein. No belief system, illusion, action, or thought
incurred
during a sojourn in time-space can alter this basic process. In short,
like it or not, you're going to continue to do and be after you can no
longer hang
in there physically. There is no rest not only for the wicked but for
everyone else.
6. In the awe-inspiring cloud of cosmology that has emanated from the
Explorers and their contacts, almost unnoticed is an underlying mosaic
of action that becomes an astounding potential when examined
separately. We would not have become aware of it ourselves except that
we were exposed time after time to various details of its use.
65
It is the display and application of a
science—call it
technology—which is totally absent from our human culture. We simply
don't know anything about it nor do we have any accepted means by which
to begin to gather information as to its nature or content.
Here is a series of excerpts from different Explorer sessions. They are
even more startling when the actual report is heard, taken out of
context just as we are doing here:
SS/ROMC 6:45 MIN #322
"Two discs came to me. At first it looked like two big eyes. I was put
on one of them. I am spinning around and there is a light being put on
me. I had a pain in one part of my body and they are working on that.
They are spinning me around on this disc and shooting a light beam on
me. My body is heavy because of this physical pain I had when I woke up
this morning. I feel sluggish today and not as clear as before, so they
are trying to help me. I say 'they.' I feel there is someone there, but
it
looks like two discs and a light. I was put on one disc and I don't
know what happened to the other disc. I am still lying on one disc. It
is getting
more light. There is light over all my body. I think the light is
coming
from the other disc which is up over me. It is as if I am between two
energy
discs."
Monitor: "Ask who they are."
"O.K. I just got the answer back that 'we are a source of light and energy which your body needs right now!' "
Monitor: "Do you feel any results from the energy?"
"At first I was feeling out of it, but I am starting to feel a little
more consciously energized."
Monitor: "Report when you have any change."
"O.K. I am supposed to tell you what is happening, because it helps. I
keep sort of sniffing a little bit, and I get the feeling that it is
going to help lift the vibration with my voice to keep on the level. I
went onto
that disc that I had gone on before, and I felt like it was twirling
around
very rapidly. It is sort of a balance—an energy
balancing—and then I sensed from the center with this light beam that
was sort of centering down on
me.
67
Then
they were working on an area of my body that shows up dark. So I felt
that it was like they were putting some little, I don't know
what you call them, like little stakes into my abdomen. They were being
put one by one right across my abdomen. And after these little stakes
were put in one by one, then I felt that they were working with
different
colors, especially a violet and a blue. The beam came from the back of
me, through my spine and through these stakes that had been put right
across my abdomen. They were doing some healing work. I'm being taken
off this disc now. They are going to start working to help me to go
into the next level."
SS/MJL 11:23 MIN #351
"When I go up I have to leave that energy ball back down with my body.
What I'm supposed to do is put the energy ball right down my spine and
when I take off. I will try it on and this will keep
protection on my physical body and I feel then that they are saying
then at that
point, they will be able to talk through me and work through me and I
will feel completely comfortable, and that I am in control, that I had
left my energy ball which I have been working with as part of me, that
I will
have that there in my body to keep the protection and also that I'm
going to
be out exploring other things and they will be able to talk through my
vocal cords."
SS/ROMC 9:30 MIN #385
"I'm just floating up now. Now I'm supposed to stand and observe what
is going to happen. My ear is ringing now but someone is working on my
face. They are helping to exercise my throat muscles to talk by getting
me prepared."
Other Voice: "We are trying to show that she is multidimensional, and
this is why she is able to see as a great circle of self, of many
forms, of the self. It appears to her to be like many selves extending
from a circle
and between. We are trying to show her there are many, many dimensions
of one human self. As she can see and understand that she is much more
of that conscious self that she sees in the mirror, and that she
experiences in her waking state. She will be much more prepared to go
into the
multidimensional levels of the consciousness, and this is why we are
working on various levels, and not only the visual. This is very
important to
work on the visual, but also we are working with the other senses as
well."
SS/JCA 39:30 MIN #396
Monitor: "Ask him if he can help you communicate with some other mind on some other planet."
"He did, and briefly when I was talking just a second ago, he showed me
and I quickly went to this other place and . . . I saw a person, not
really a person, a being and . . . a place that was a yucky kind of
green. That had a bright sky, but was kind of cold. And people live
under mounds. That's weird . . . "
SS/TC 21:30 MIN #392
"I went back to where I had been before and the entity there did
something to me. He came over to me and did something to me and my
perception began to change and since that time I have progressed
through half a dozen or more altered states, each one being different
than the other. I tried to strike up other conversations with this
entity
and he seemed more inclined and he seemed more to say, 'Well, do these
things and we are not ready to discuss things yet.' He didn’t seem
in a very talkative mood. He was more interested in my performing these
exercises than discussing. He came over and his, what I perceive to be
hands, in what I perceive to be head, although this was not really
related to a physical body. When he did that I could immediately feel
these changes
in awareness. Some of the states I went through were very specially
disoriented to where I really could not determine up from down to sideways or
anywhere else. Where I seem to be twisting and kind of rotating
specially. Until I just lost any kind of sense of orientation. The fact
that I was aware that the states were changing and relating them to my
changing internal states seemed to be the lesson. Just to observe this."
68
SS/JCA7:45 MIN #318
"I have just experienced being sucked in a long tube and pushed the
other way. I'm like in a cocoon. My hands feel they are clasped up
tight. Remember doing that before. Feels kind of neat. Now I'm standing
on my head. Now on my side . . . darkness. But now I'm floating but I'm
in something. I feel someone looking at me. Watching over me. Several
people rode watching over me. They are looking down. Looking down but
they came to see me. No figure, just communication, just his
presence. I can see where we are going, or can I see the rest, or can
they come here? He said no, they want to watch me. They want to watch
me in this limbo. Now they are all circled around, bending over, and
now they are touching me. But I didn’t see them. Feel them. They are
nice,
warm friendly folk . . . friendly hands, but they were hands leading me
someplace. Their presence was all around me leading me someplace. He .
. . it cares about me. The first thing that came is that we're part of
one another. But we are kind of lost in communicating with one another.
It's there on the tip but it's not out in the open. The white presence
is
trying to help us or pushing me. It's kind of a transparent, feeling
me. . . . You’re going to laugh at this. I've been practicing going in
and out of this tunnel, back down and up there. They thought it was
kind of important to practice that. So I've been zooming up and zooming
down. My body looks like, you know, through a telescope the long way
and you kind of zoom in and then you zoom out. A hug and I said, 'I'll
see you later.
SS/MJL 10:10 MIN #367
"They are working on my feet now. Two at the end . . . each of them are
taking my feet and just giving me a real good foot massage. And as
their hands touch my feet I tingle on my feet. These are energy Light
Beings. And they are just very gentle and they are working on a
different level than my physical foot. They are working on my other
body. My energy foot and so they are doing some special kind of a
touching of my feet now. They are working on my toes. Barely touching
my toes. But I can feel a lot of energy between their touch and my
energy body. It
feels good . . . it is a tingle . . . they are going to work on little
spots
on my feet. My toes. My big toe. Their fingers now are just working on
my big toe."
69
If one cuts through the purely subjective reporting, even with this
small sample, much becomes apparent:
• Notice how easily any potential anxieties or fears are
overcome by simply a pattern of radiation emanating from strangers. If
you were feeling your way along in an environment new to you, would you
accept so eagerly the appearance of an unknown being?
• The color patterns. Our Explorers interpret them as visual
patterns of light. This is the best that they can do to report the presence of some unknown type of radiation. Purple,
blue, and green light will not create this effect on the human. With
our sophisticated knowledge of light frequencies and our use of them,
we would long ago have observed such effects.
• The use of what appears to be specific devices, such as the
counterrevolving discs, which produce an effect totally beyond our comprehension.
• The ability to remove the energy essence of a human (the Soul) from his
physical body without disrupting his biologic systems. This technology does this
with a casualness and certainty that indicates standard operating
procedure. They know what they are doing because they have done it
many, many times.
• The ability to enter such a vacated human body and operate
it to some degree—again, without disrupting said body's normal functions.
• Not only can they utilize the vocal cords and the breathing
apparatus, but they have total access to the memory storage lodged in the
individual.
• They can at will change the temperature of that visited
human body, make it either hot or cold (which is reflected quite accurately on our
remote-reading body temperature gauges).
• The ability to move that extracted human essence (the Soul energy),
once taken
from the body, to various other sites (realities?), and return, all
under
perfect control and what seems to be absolute safety. The trip can be
instantaneous or in "slow motion," and can penetrate matter as if it
does not exist.
70/71
• Although this technology does not seem to have the ability
to directly affect matter, by some method not visible it can create changes in
matter.
In other words, there is no evidence that it can produce matter (that
is not to say that it cannot; it simply has not as yet). But it can affect an
energy
structure, which in turn connects to our neurological system, which in turn affects the physical structure.
• Perceiving our thoughts, as flickering as they are, is
absurdly easy for this technology, but for the most part they apparently don't find it
worth
doing.
• Time and space become our phenomena. This technology
understands them from a viewpoint about which we can only speculate. Even the best
of such speculations do not begin to cover the nuances implicit in their approach to the vital conditions under which we exist.
• The entire history of humankind and Earth is available to
them in the most minute detail, if needed. Where and how such information is stored
and retrieved is a part of such technology, a seeming unimportant part.
Implied also in such information storage is data on the entire physical
Universe, if there were any reason to require such detail.
• This technology can produce a beam of energy, which is first
translated as light, through which the human energy essence (Soul, the
Energy of the Creative Force, LM) can travel back and forth,
information can flow, and the operators of such technology can enter
Time-Space/Earth environments. Once properly perceived, they can endow
(to insert certain qualities/features) the human mind with the ability
to create (enhance?) such a beam of energy. These observations are
based on several hundred encounters with such technology. With
our limited contact, the implication is certainly there that we have
learned so little about so much. Our attempts to learn more in a
specific sense have been severely hampered by the knowledge and
experience of the Explorer through which the information is being
translated. Also, there is a polite inference in the response to our
queries that we would not be able to understand it in any event. It
does not take much speculation to recognize the potential
revolutionary changes in our science and culture, if but a part of such
technology
were actively introduced and applied in the months and years to come.
Any serious consideration of all of the above hinges on one question:
How
valid is the entire project? To this end, responsible parties who wish
to replicate such experiments are welcomed.
Who are the beings who know and use this technology? (Some have
admitted that they never have been a human being in physical life
existence;
others were here thousands of years ago. Some have been in physical
life existence in other parts of the Universe in nonhuman form.) Why
are they interested in human life on Earth? Are there thousands of
them, millions, billions?
(They apparently do have individuality of a sort.)
How did such a technology begin? Who developed it? Is there some
restriction on our learning such technology and applying it here in
Time-Space/Earth?
Is this technology being applied constantly in other ways on Earth and
in human affairs that we don't know about and certainly of which we are not
consciously aware?
We do seem to have one answer. In all of our contacts and
communication, the application of this technology seems totally
benevolent. There also seem to be rules and restrictions in regard to
its use. For this we are humbly grateful. To contemplate any other
possibility could lead to mental disaster. I don't think we could do
anything about
it whatever our stance.
A key point has surfaced, however. The sum of all my own personal
experience, that of our work in the laboratory and the thousands of
Gateway
experiments, indicates that all other intelligent species, either in
the physical universe or in other energy systems, use a form of
communication
that is total and certainly nonverbal. When words are used in such
communication with us, this is a tight narrow-banded tuning, so that they can
be understood at least in part.
I cannot stress this too much. All other intelligent species use what
we now call nonverbal communication (NVC). It is something far more than
what we label body language, telepathy, remote viewing, and the often
mystical or religious connotations so commonly applied to a tiny part of
NVC. We say that a picture is worth 1,000 words. A color picture is
worth 10,000 words. A moving color picture is worth 50,000 words, perhaps, and
a talking moving picture is worth a 100,000 or more words in the
transmission of information and/or communication.
72/73
NVC
takes a quantum jump beyond a talking moving color picture. It is
direct instant experience and/or immediate knowing transmitted from one
intelligent energy system and received by another. The content can be
only a two-digit number, or the actual reliving of an event not a
part of your own life patterns. Why did we evolve along our particular
path so differently from the rest? I like the explanation which
attributes it to the very rare
characteristic of the Earth environment—we could see the Sun and moon,
Planets and Stars. This presumes that most life-generating and
-sustaining Planets have thick cloud covers that blot out all of these.
Their Suns visually
are no more than a haze of light. No more, nothing but blackness at
night. Our species, able to see the physical Universe from the
beginning, took the route of astronomy, gravity, electromagnetics,
particle theory,
quantum mechanics, etc., which we call our sciences.
Lacking this clue of a visible physical Universe, other species learned NVC.
If I were proficient at NVC (which I am not), and you asked me what was
the matter because you detected (unconsciously by NVC) that I had a
problem,
I would be able to transmit into your sensory system how it
felt to have the sore big toe that I had. You would momentarily have a sore toe, just as I had,
still understanding that it was my big toe that
hurt, not yours. Thus you would know, far better than by means of any possible words that I could say, what
I was experiencing or feeling or wanted to communicate.
Instead
of my wife calling by phone to say that she would be late for dinner
and that she would arrive at nine o'clock, I would get a picture
"in my head" of her driving the car with the headlights on, with the number
9
flashing simultaneously in the picture. She would also show me a
picture of the right rear tire of the car, flat and being changed by a
local
state trooper. All of this could be transmitted superimposed with a
signal of warmth and love in the space of perhaps two or three seconds,
no more. If I were proficient at NVC and my son also was trained in the
technique, I could pass along to him, in very short order, all of the
education and experience that I have gathered that he might desire or
that might
be of use to him. It would not be the absorption of words simply
received
in serial form, but an instantaneous, or nearly so, transmission
absorption of the entire event—including my emotional reaction, what my
five senses perceived, and the interpretations and conclusions that I
gleaned from
the experience. Take this starting point, and draw any extrapolation
(process of estimation) from it, then
understand the limitations of our semi-intelligent species.
NVC implies a control of mental processes so alien to our present
standards of being that I doubt that there is a single human or group
of humans on our Planet who have mastered the technique. If there are,
they are very quiet about it. On the other hand, if it were the case,
they certainly would have had to develop some type of mental shielding
to survive the cacophony of unorganized thinking that is so common
here. Before man can communicate (and associate) with intelligent
species at all levels of reality, he must become proficient at NVC. I
am sure it
must bemuse if not amuse other intelligent species when we spend
millions for huge radio telescopes in the attempt to receive
electromagnetic signals from other intelligent life sources. This is
much like another culture
measuring the exhaust gases from our cars or our pollution to perceive
communication via this loose discharge of energy residue. At the other
end, animals do most of their communication by scents and smell. It
would be easy to give hundreds of illustrations of attempts to cope
with NVC problems. We have faced them in so many different ways that we
are probably much more aware than the average group or facility. We
still grope with the rudiments of NVC type of training and mental
processing. The only statement that we can make at this moment is that
we recognize the existence and the need.
From this segue (from one movement to another without a pause), the
material following goes "interstate"—an
attempt to translate and transpose the NVC perspective into the written
word. Due to such conversion, the question of validity always will be
present. Some "thought balls" are easier to unravel serially than
others; the
timespace humanizing is bound to create distortions. It always has. You
do the best you can.
Part II
7. Surveys and Schematics
77
The following is a deliberately free
translation of nonverbal
communication. To compound the rendering, most if not all represents
the transposing of non-time-space events and ambience into replicas of
conscious human physical experience. Thus a "humanizing" process is
used extensively in the retelling—which may increase comprehension and
simultaneously reduce accuracy. To abet the method, a few specific
words are utilized in a different context to provide a connotation not
so totally unlike their common
definition. You can't report "he said" or "he walked" or "she smiled"—
because it wasn't that way, the physical equipment wasn't available.
Instead, here are parts of the "replica" vocabulary:
Time-Space Illusion (TSI): An anomaly among the "standard" energy systems, which includes the entire physical universe;
M Band: Part of energy spectrum commonly used for thought, not
electromagnetic, electrical, magnetic, nucleonic, etc. M Band noise is
caused by uncontrolled thought;
Ident: Mental name or "address," i.e., energy pattern of item;
Rote: Thought ball. A "packet" of Thought/Mentation, Total Memory, Knowledge, Information, Experience, History;
Run the rote: To recall portions of Rote after receipt of total;
Percept: Insight, Intuition, Understand, Open, Receptive;
Closed: Tune down (or out) external stimuli;
Flickered: Uncertain;
CLICK!: Instantaneous change in Consciousness and Change of Wavelength;
Blank: Don't understand;
Turn in: Consider, think over;
Vibrate: Show Emotion;
Smooth: Get it together, in Charge of Self;
Dulled: Lost interest;
Lighted: Happy, Idea, Enthusiasm;
Rolled: Amused, Laughed;
Curl: Organized Energy, usually Intelligent, local slang;
Plied: The way things are, Goes with the Territory;
One of the earliest discoveries made in the new mode of
Let-Somebody-Else-Do-the-Driving was that I had more than one
nonphysical body. Upon return, I began to notice it took a small
additional effort to get
back into the physical. Initially, I assumed this to be nothing more
than
some minor misalignment as I tried to reenter. On one particularly
difficult attempt, I pulled back slightly, stopped trying, and examined
the
problem. My physical body appeared to be not one, but two—much as when
your vision is slightly impaired by astigmatism. They seemed very close
together, no more than three or four inches apart, one slightly behind
and fainter than the other. I approached the nearest of the two slowly,
slid into it very easily. I held this position for several moments. It
seemed as if I were partially interspersed with the physical, yet not
quite in
phase. The condition had a familiarity that took me all the way back to
the
vibration I first encountered and the physical paralysis that went with
it. The
sensation was near-identical—without the panic. From there, it was easy
to reenter the physical with a simple twitchlike movement, akin to a
shrug of the shoulders. Thereafter, I began to take particular notice
of physical reentry and found that I did indeed
reenter a second form just prior to the physical body. In appearance,
it was
identical to the physical, only less dense. However, upon return this
second body appeared more real, the more solid of the two. Upon
entering the second, the actual physical then seemed more definite.
Also, I began to observe more closely my separation process, presuming
that if the premise were
valid, I would be able to perceive the release from this near-second
body. I found it was very real. I could stay in the second body,
hovering near
the physical, but could move no more than ten or fifteen feet away. It
was reminiscent of my first limited out-of-body activities. It also
brought
back the memory of the many frustrative attempts in those early days to
move away farther—and the moment I found the release point.
Without being aware of the reason, I had provided subsequently to
others in training
the key to such release—the mental "security repository box,"
where one can place thoughts that get in the way. Once I had become
aware of the actual process, it became automatic,
and both separation and return contained these
elements—leaving the second body in "orbit" close to the physical,
moving and being entirely apart and separate from the physical in a
"third" body, or an energy essence (without form?). I no longer
concerned myself with the details. Understanding it functionally—if not
the reason—was
enough for my purposes. Another early result of my new navigator (my
Total Self?) was
remembering the going-to-class format. This came after my usual
out-of-body separation process, releasing to such guidance, and without
much
movement finding myself among a crowd of gray forms. "Crowd" means so
many they seemed to fade into the distance. All were focused in one
direction, and none seemed to notice my arrival—except one,
brighter than the others. It approached me and stopped. It opened—with
words! In my consciousness.
(Glad
you’re back, Bob. You've missed quite a few sessions.)
I flickered. (Well, uh, I've been busy.)
The form focused. (You’re different. You haven't been on
drugs or alcohol, have you?)
I opened wide. (I've lost a lot of rote, or I can't pull it out. Where
am I?)
The form rolled. (I guess you have! You're back at sleeper's class.)
I turned inward, and the percept came out bright and clear. Sleeper's classes—attended by countless humans during a portion of
their deep
sleep,
during the sleeping out-of-body period. The only limitation was
that such sleep could not be distorted by chemicals, it had to be
natural.
How many times I had been here long before I knew it, before I knew
anything about OOBEs and the like! I just didn't remember when I woke
up, like everyone else.
80
If
anything leaked through, it was attributed to a dream, inspiration,
idea, or imagination. And I knew my instructor. (Hi, Bill.)
Bill rolled. (Took you long enough. Want me to plug you in?)
I flickered. (Well, I don't know. You see, I think I am different. I'm
not asleep.)
Bill blanked slightly, then lighted. (Oh, you're one of those. How did that happen?)
I plied. (I don't know. It just did.)
Bill turned inward, then opened. (That means you don't belong here anymore. Too bad. You were one of my star pupils.)
I flickered. (You’re sure about that? About my not belonging?)
Bill smoothed. (I've had them before. It doesn’t work out.
Your type gets impatient, bored. The biz kids, the OOB-ers, busy, busy, busy.)
I smoothed carefully. (How about plugging me in one last time? As long as I'm here.)
Bill dulled. (You probably know it already. Can't change the program.)
I opened wide. (Try me.)
Bill flickered and tossed me a rote. I opened it easily.
CLICK!
There is one more Universal Law (the 5th one) Robert
Monroe described in "Far Journeys", written in 1985! It is The Law of
Change! Below is the extract from this book explaining this Law, which
we need to pay attention to:
The anti-ulcer, anxiety-lowering, tension-reduction, get-it-together formula:
The major underlying cause of human worry (fear) relates to the Law of Change.
All human conflicts relate to this Law. Some worry that change will
take place, others that it will not. Wars are fought to resist Change
or to accelerate it. At the individual level, this translates into
various forms of Indecision.
Fear enters into the pattern, fear of the consequences of any decision
or action. The pressure builds up, intensifies as the decision is put
off, delayed.
The result accumulates toxins in all parts of the human system until
there is failure or severe reduction in operating efficiency.
Indecision is the
killer. Consider the statistics of decision, in general and simplified.
In any abstract decision, there is a 50 percent probability that the
correct or constructive choice will be made. If the correct path is
taken, obviously no problems will exist. If the incorrect selection is
made, it will become evident. When it does, there is a 50 percent
probability that the choice can be reversed and the constructive path
substituted in its place.
Therefore, there is only one chance in four, at the most, that an
irrevocable (irreversible, unchangable) direction may be taken in
decision making. All vital decisions in the history of humanity
have been made on much worse odds than three to one. Some were as high
as one in twenty and came out positively.
To move away from the null point of indecision, take the position that
any action or decision is better than none at all, based upon the odds
of three to one.
To get the process underway without trauma, perform
the following:
Make up an A list. Place on this list all of your worries, anxieties,
and concerns about which you can do absolutely nothing. You cannot do
anything about tomorrow's weather conditions. It will rain, snow, be
cold or hot, and there is no action you can take to prevent it. If
there is
absolutely nothing you can do today about such items, place them on
this A list.
Make up a B list. Place on this list all of your worries, anxieties,
and concerns about which you can do something today, take action, large
or small.
Make up a C list. Place on this list all of your needs, hopes, and
desires, large or small, which have yet to be fulfilled. Today, perform the following functions:
1. Take the A list and destroy it, and in so doing, dismiss all items
con tained therein from your consciousness. Why waste your energy worrying about that which you cannot control?
2.
Take the B list and take some action, however small, to begin the
resolution of each item contained therein. Several may be concluded
immediately and thus can be released and dismissed from your
consciousness. Others will be reduced in pressure because the flow has begun, a decision has been made.
3. Take at least one item on the C list and perform one act, large or
small, that moves you in the direction of such goal. Perform this entire process each day until you have no A list, no B
list, and all of your energy and consciousness are devoted to items on your C list.
You then will complete serenely your human life purpose.
CLICK!
I folded the rote and tucked it in me, turned to Bill. (That's pretty
good. Seems familiar.)
Bill plied. (It ought to. You must have picked it up a couple hundred classes back.)
I opened. (Bill, if I don't belong here, where do I go?)
(I don't know. I don't have the slightest percept on that.)
(There must be classes for, uh, mavericks like me.)
Bill plied. (I'm sure there are. I got to go make my rounds now. Drop in for a visit if you feel like it. I'm two rings out.)
I opened wide. (Sure, Bill.)
He turned and faded into the host of gray forms, and with nothing
better to pull me, I rotated and dived back for the physical. Reentry
was
normal.
The next early absorption was a series of demonstrations—live
guided experiences—of the old saw about fools and angels. I cannot
conceive of the latter having fear, just selective. As to the former, I
had
ignorantly rushed in many times in the early period, so I certainly
qualified. I
began to call it the Defooling Treatment. The presumption I made was
that my Greater Self (soul?) always knew what it was doing. I had
learned from it how a homing device loosely called ident was utilized;
this was like a signal you could follow to
the source of that place or being. In this one instance of Defooling, I
had rolled out of body in the early morning, and after releasing the
second,
I expressed the mild observation that it would be nice to visit a
near-human culture that was in time-space and that I could understand.
Immediately the ident Z-55 flashed into me, so I reached and stretched.
There was a slight sense of movement and I was in front of a slightly
glowing
figure. Other, similar figures were in the background. Beyond, nothing.
The figure opened. (Well, Robert, we meet again.)
I flickered. (Uh, yes.)
(Still digging out the secrets of the universe?)
This wasn't what I expected. It definitely wasn't any near-human
culture, and this being seemed to know me. Some mistake in the ident, but
the radiation did seem familiar. I didn't want to ask the obvious, but
I had to. (Where am I?)
The figure smoothed. (Outermost ring, Robert. One more final cycle
in human and that will be it. For me.)
I flickered. (I don't have a percept on the Z-55 ident, but I know you.)
Z-55 rolled. (After all those hours putting music together . . . The run to Cuba back in the fifties to record in Havana . . .)
The percept came bright and sure in me. Of course I knew him. Even then
I called him an old soul! I vibrated strongly. (Lou! Sure! The Z-55
ident threw me. You seem different. It's great to be with you again!)
Z-55/LOU smoothed. (Well, I've had a couple more in-human runs since we were together, so Lou is sort of covered over a little.)
I turned inward. Lou, one of the most gentle of persons I had ever met
. . . musician, arranger, orchestra conductor . . . quietly living
through
his life and his work . . . hours and days we spent together . . .
working far into the night developing melody lines . . . chord progressions,
orchestrations . . . then our paths diverged . . . and I heard of his
early death . . . the diabetes I knew he lived with . . .
Z-55/LOU opened. (You're still in-human!)
I smoothed. (Yep.)
He flickered. (Oh, a sleeper. You got out this far? That's pretty good.
Too bad you won't remember it.)
I opened more. (It's not quite that way, Lou. I, uh, here.)
I tossed him a short rote covering the out-of-body beginning. He took it in and closed.
Then he opened and rolled lightly. (One of those. You
never told me.)
I plied. (I didn’t know myself when we were working together.)
He flickered. (So how do I fit in? You come looking for me. More music?)
I plied again. (I'm not sure. I asked to visit a near-human culture, got your ident . . . and here I am.)
84
Z-55/LOU lighted. (You want to visit my . . . uh . . . hometown, so to speak?)
I rolled. (Not Kentucky. I've been there. It's too human!)
He rolled with me. (No, no . . . my original home. It's just what you want, that's why you got my ident. . . . It's, uh, different, but you
can
understand it all right.)
I turned inward. If you've never been to a particular exotic place—or to a
locale that at least to you seems exotic and exciting from your distant
viewpoint—there is much anticipation. You can conjure up any number of possibilities as
to what you will do and experience.
In
your eagerness, you are willing to accept all sorts of limitations,
restrictions, that seem unimportant from the outside. Also, you forget
one most important factor. You take along as hidden extra baggage your
own enculturation as a comparative tool of measurement.
Z-55/LOU lighted brightly. (To really get the feel of it, you ought to
go there just like a regular tourist, limited amount of assets, and stay
through the regular historical event we, uh, they call the surge.)
I lighted, too. (Great! Good percept.)
(And so you can truly experience it), he went on, (cut off
communication with here until after the surge. A little like the
in-human training but without rote erasure.)
I opened wide. (I'm all for it. How do we start?)
(I'll be your anchor here. To get back, all you need do is home on my
ident.) There was a whimsical radiation mixed in with his pattern. (To
get there focus in on ident . . . Zeer-surge . . .)
I vibrated. (Zeer surge.)
I reached and stretched.
85
CLICK!
I
was in a city, or what appeared to be a city. There were buildings in
all directions, fairly uniform, none over three or four stories high.
They
were not particularly attractive or unusual, had openings in the sides
that
my percept took as windows and doors. The streets or spaces between
buildings were not unusually wide, but contained only people, percept
beings like me or what I was temporarily. No cars, trucks, vehicles of
any
type. No utility poles or overhead wires, no sidewalks. It was bright
daylight, but I couldn't find a Sun overhead. As I walked and mingled
with the population, people noticed me but didn't seem to react as if I
were an alien. With each step, I felt more
at ease and the population seemed more human. Each inhabitant was very
purposeful and closed, as if preoccupied on a job to be done with not
much nonsense in the process. If there was any body language present,
no percept showed. Point of fact was I couldn't tell the males from the
females, which was unusual for me, so I assumed there was no such
difference. Unable to attract the attention of those moving on the
street, I entered one of the buildings and found myself in a large room
which greatly resembled the lobby of a medium-sized hotel. There were
people standing around, apparently in conversation. I approached a man
(?) who appeared to be standing behind a desk. He looked at me
expectantly. I knew I needed a reason.
"Do you, uh, do you have a restaurant here?" I tried to make it casual, but as he blanked I knew I had done it wrong.
I turned to my rudimentary NVC. (Do you have the means for me to recharge?)
The man lighted brightly, waved me off to the right. As I walked in the
indicated direction, I felt smug. I had passed one test. They didn't
vocalize but they understood me. Even my weak, nonverbal communication.
From here on, it would be easy. I began to speculate as to the food
they consumed. It was sure to be unusual. An archway, rounded, was in
front
of me, and it appeared dark beyond—no, not dark, just lit
differently in a mixture of colors. I strode confidently through the
archway and into the colors. Just
inside, the radiation hit me like a sheet of hot flame and I staggered
back. This wasn't the restaurant, the man got it all wrong. From all
sides
came the overwhelming attraction of female sexuality, inviting, asking,
offering, promising—it was too much. With great effort, I backed out
through the archway, breathing heavily and trying to calm down. I had
just about smoothed out when I looked up and the room clerk (?) was in
front of me, accompanied by two other men—percept police, authority,
KGB,
etc. One KGB moved in. (Your ident, please?)
86
I began fumbling in my pockets
for my wallet, only there were no pockets in the one-piece cover I was
wearing. But there was a belt on me
with a small pouch attached to it. I reached in the pouch and there was
a card in it. I pulled it out and it resembled nothing so much as a
typical credit card. KGB took it from me, examined it carefully, then looked up.
(From Earth, huh? Never heard of that city. Over on the other side of
the ocean?)
I smoothed. (Why, uh, yes, you see . . .)
KGB waved the card at me. (Well, we don't particularly like you visiting here, but you got to obey the rules.)
I brightened. (Sure, I understand.)
(Here, we don't go into private space and take without paying first.
Always pay first.) KGB turned to the desk clerk, handing him my card. (How much of it do you want? He hasn’t got very much.)
The desk clerk dropped the card into the pouch on his belt. (That ought to about cover it.)
I started to protest. (But that's all I got, I can't . . .)
(In that case we'II have to flag you.) The second KGB stepped forward and took my hands. (Can't have you walking around upsetting things
without any ident.)
I flickered. (What are you going to do?)
The second KGB pulled a small flat box out of his pouch and opened it. (Hold still, this won't hurt.)
He took one hand and pressed my fingertips into the box. I thought,
fingerprints, they're taking my fingerprints. But I was wrong. A black
dye spread quickly up my fingers until it covered my entire hand. As I
stared at it, bewildered, they stuck the fingers of my other hand into
the box
and I had two black hands. I tried to rub it off, but it had penetrated
the
skin.
The first KGB looked at my hands,
satisfied. (That ought to do it. At least the people will see you
coming.) (And be warned,) the second KGB added. (I'd advise you to go
back home. Not much action for
you here, the way you are. No ident to play with.) The first KGB looked
at me hard. (We'll be keeping an eye on you.) Then the two turned and
walked across the room and out into the street.
I smoothed at the desk clerk. (Sorry, I didn’t know it was a
private space.)
The desk clerk vibrated. (What other kind is there!)
I flickered. (You mean all of these buildings are private?)
The desk clerk dulled.
(Then what are all these people doing here? There must be a hundred!) I hit it strong enough to catch his attention.
(It's their private space, naturally.)
(All one hundred?)
The desk clerk waved me over to the desk and I followed. He pointed to
the drawing on the wall behind him. It showed some five rows of large
black dots that looked like holes, twenty to a row.
(That's our personal space.) He gestured proudly. (Best in the city.)
I stared at the drawing. (You go into those?)
He nodded. (Only when the surge takes place. They’re this big
across the middle.) He indicated a width of about two feet with his arms.
He was about to continue when there was a sound like thunder in the
distance and the floor began to rock. Immediately, everyone in the room
turned and
hurried out through exits in the back. The room clerk ran to join them.
(That's the surge starting up,) he called over his shoulder. (I suppose that's what you came to witness, but you better get to your personal
space fast.)
Then the room was empty and I tried to keep my footing as the floor
heaved rhythmically. I staggered over to the entrance as the roar grew
louder. In the distance and approaching fast was a mighty wave, not
water but in the ground itself, lifting buildings and streets into a
tumbling flotsam hundreds of feet high. Behind the first wave, I could
see a
second and a third wave, each larger than the first. There may have
been more, but I didn't have a chance to find out, as the first wave
came surging
into where I was, and the building lifted and tumbled, me in it,
bouncing, rolling, twisting, jarring . . .desperately, I tried to
focus, ident what? ident . . . ident Z-55/LOU . . . Z-55/LOU . . .
reach and stretch, reach and stretch . . . closed tightly . . . tightly
. . .
88
CLICK!
It was quiet, the pounding had stopped. I tried to keep from shaking
long enough to open. I finally made it. I was in front of Z-55/LOU, and
I got a percept of his polite expectation. I smoothed somewhat. (That's home for you? Where you were before starting human?)
He plied. (It's not Kentucky.)
(And you’re going back there?)
Z-55/LOU opened wide. He glowed very brightly, almost white. (No, not there.)
There
was a sudden urgent signal to go back, and before I could reply, I
moved away automatically and he faded. . . . I was back hovering over
the physical, the return signal still strong. I slid into the second,
then the physical, and sat up on the water bed. Body fine, no full
bladder. No signal. What called me back? Nothing I could find.
The Defooling Treatment. They do rush in.
Releasing to my Total Self
for direction and purpose provided what I now recognize as a crash
program in comprehension of what I had formerly labeled Locale II. It
began with hard basics at the inner end of the spectrum, with a
modified hands-on process that forced inescapable
conclusions. Simply put, I could observe but not participate. The
purpose, I discovered, was multifaceted and determined in part long
after the event itself.
Russian
Matreshki inserted one into another one could be a good example the
bodies surrounding our physical bodies. That includes the Second body
and Astral body Robert Monroe was talking about in his books. These
other bigger bodies have different, faster vibration, Higher level of
Consciousness!
One of the principal examples came one night
when I rolled out of the physical, and before I could release from the
second body, an
overwhelming drive for sexual union rose in me. I was about to employ
my usual
not-now-but-later cooling technique when I moved away sharply with a
sudden shift. The movement was fast and short. When I was able to
perceive, I found I was standing a few feet away from an enormous pile
of writhing forms. It reached up, slanting back as high as I could see.
In each
direction, right and left, it swept off into the distance. It reminded
me of
nothing so much as the interweaving of huge fishing worms in the bottom
of a can after being left there overnight. The motion was continuous,
thousands upon thousands, each wet slippery form wiggling in and out
among the others in the pile, searching, trying to do something,
but never achieving satisfaction. Three perceptive shocks hit me
simultaneously. The forms were not worms, they were human! Second, the
incredible, staggering radiation of sexuality, both male and female,
that emanated from the seething mass. Third, they all were physically
dead. I wanted to turn and run, but some other part of me held me in
place. I finally calmed down enough to become analytical. Did I want to
join in? My whole being shuddered in rejection. No vestige remained of
the sexual drive I found so important moments before. I had the strong
percept that it would come again, but never where it would control
wholly what I thought or did. With this
flash of knowing, another emotion washed through me— intense compassion
for those trapped in the undulating mass, so focused and intent on
seeking sexual satisfaction they were unaware of any other
existence—anger at a system that could so inhibit, repress,
and distort as to create the situation in front of me. Were these the
castoffs of the human process, to remain so throughout eternity? I
moved forward slowly and stopped close to the edge of the pile. The
moving bodies were male and female, of all shapes and sizes, glistening
with wetness. A bare hairy leg thrust momentarily from the pile,
and I grabbed it by the foot and pulled. The leg pushed out
blindly,
trying to move more deeply back into the pulsating mass. I pulled
harder,
trying to keep my grip on the sweat-covered ankle. Slowly, I was able
to pull
the rest of the body clear of the pile. It was a man, small in stature,
darkhaired, fine-featured, of indeterminate age. He lay there on his
belly, his arms and legs moving crablike, attempting to pull himself
back into the pile, totally oblivious to the fact that I was holding on
to his foot
and preventing him from doing so. I easily held him in place, bent
over, and shouted in his ear, (Hey, I
want to talk to you. Hold still for a moment!)
There was
not the slightest indication that he heard me. His face was fixed, a
gleam of anticipation spread across it. He kept trying to move
back and I held him in place, wondering what to do next. I tried
another approach. (It's the cops, the police, they're raiding
the joint! Gotta get out!) I waited for some response, but there was
none. I couldn't provide him
with the radiation that would get his attention.
90
I
released his foot,
and he crawled back into the mass and was swallowed up in the movement.
I turned away sadly and stretched for my physical ident, and returned
without incident. From that point on, I had a new technique to control
any surfacing sexual drive. All I need do is think of that wriggling,
writhing,
mindless pile of humanity. That does it. This episode was of the milder
variety that may be encountered in the immediate post-physical areas. I
soon discovered there was a pattern at work in my own guided tour
through them—states of being I had
previously passed through quickly to avoid confrontation. All of these
forays started while in the second body, before I could release it and
move outward. I felt safe and secure with my Higher Self doing the driving. The feeling was right. But not the reason.
8. Contact Point
The suspicion began where I thought I
had a good perspective of the human experience. In retrospect, the
whole thing may have been planned that way all along. I had been moving
in and out of OOB situations very blithely and calmly, always sure that
my guiding total self knew the answers, would take care of anything and
any problem as they arose. It had worked
perfectly to date, and perhaps that was why the slight scent of
suspicion began to form. However great my ego might think I was, I knew
I wasn't that good. Thus entered again one of my many questionable
characteristics. I can't let a good thing alone and simply let it do; I
have to find out why. In several succeeding OOB excursions, I tried to
become aware of who was doing the driving and/or navigating. The
contact was elusive in the
beginning, no percept other than a gentle presence behind me, directing
where I went. I turned around, but there was nothing—
at the most a
trace of a friendly presence. But it was there and it seemed definitely
external. I went back through my notes, all the way to the beginning. I
was astounded that I had ignored what was so apparent. A hand helping
me get out, a hand on my arm, a response to my anguished screams, and
the more subtle clues apparent from my new perspective. I had called
them
helpers at the time and let it go at that. At the minimum, I had not
turned my activities over to my "greater self," but to them, whoever
"they" were.
Thereafter, during active OOBEs, I tried many times to communicate with
these presences, singular or plural, to no avail. Correction:
I
thought I received no reply because no words were forthcoming, only
pictures, sensations, and action. The change came about when I dimly
began to realize I wasn't speaking their "language," as it were. Review
of my
early notes supported this, for the most part. Words and language, as
we know them, are strictly human. The inference was obvious to
me—being human.
92
My deflated ego rose somewhat with the realization that whatever my
communication method was, a response was coming from these—non-humans?
With this awareness, I continued to ask and let "them" do the driving
and navigating during my OOB states for one simple reason: the process
had been working. Whoever they were, they certainly knew the territory
far better than I. Each time, though, I attempted another kind of
communication, and it began getting results. I directed wordless
thoughts—pictures, activities, feelings, and emotions to the supposed
presence behind me. Each time, there was an immediate response of like
quality. It took some analytical and subjective attitudes combined to
comprehend what I received. It was painfully slow on my side,
astoundingly patient on
theirs. Out of it came the rudiments of what we now call nonverbal
communication (NVC). It was a milestone in my consciousness.
I knew
then that NVC exists and I knew the difference. Not too much more. With
the
mutual recognition of such communication, the depth and extent of my
OOB patterns shifted. I was escorted frequently to what might be
loosely described as another kind of class, in that there was
an instructor and there were students, including me. It was entirely
different from the sleeper's classes I remembered. Here, freely
translated, there
was a brilliant white, radiating ball of light that was the teacher. I
could detect radiation of others—presumed students—all around
me, but nothing beyond that, no form or any indicators as to who and
what the others were. Instruction consisted of a seeming sequential
bombardment of packages of total experiential information to be
absorbed instantly and stored
thought balls, whose actual name cannot be translated into a word,
which I
called rotes. It apparently is a very common communication technique in
NVC. What I could bring back, I attempted to convert into in-human
usage, with mixed results. I have been unable to relate the vast
majority of
such information in any way to life here on time-space earth. It may be
preparation for activity yet to take place here, for use in other
nonphysical energy
systems,
or it is beyond my comprehension. The last is most likely. Thus the
relationship took on an entirely new aspect. I began to trust my unseen
pilot(s?) as I never would have trusted myself. For example,
in flying as a passenger on a commercial airliner, I never can trust
completely the air crew up front
—perhaps I know too much. However, I
have to get from here to there physically in a short time, so I fasten
the seat
belt and fly the airplane with nothing but anxiety and muscle twitches.
Sleep is unthinkable. This was different. They knew how and where to
fly this airplane over this route far better than I. With each
"flight," my confidence and
trust in them grew. Conversely, I realized how little I knew as the route
became more complicated. I fondly began to call them INSPECS—short
for "intelligent species," which presumes humans are not quite so.
Knowing
of such assistance and help, I approached my visits into the cycling
rings in near-Earth environs with much more confidence and
consciousness than before. I felt an absolute security. If I got in
beyond my depth, THEY would pull me out to safety—although I found that
their concept of beyond my depth and mine differed somewhat. I may have
believed that I was going down for the third and last time, screaming
for help, yet THEY waited until the eighth or ninth time before calmly
extending a hand. All part of a learning process with built-in
intensity. A favorite quick and learn-forever method of theirs was
simulation. It was based on their ability to create and place into a
human
consciousness —mine—an earth-type situation so real and so
overwhelming that I could not tell reality from illusion. I don't know
the limits of such
simulation talent/technology. Nor do I know the extent to which they
employ the technique. It may be only in my own particular case, but I
doubt it. The potentials of its application in other ways begs for
broad speculation. In my own pattern, it was usually applied as in
instant cleanup of minor emotional patterns that blocked or distorted
my clarity of perception or my stability. Usually I was unaware of such
dysfunction. THEY would note it and offer to take care of the problem.
I would be informed that the lesson was about to take place with my
consent, yet once into the
simulation, it became absolutely and totally real—and I lived it. Most
of
them were short, single events that were the peak decision-making
points
under very adverse circumstances. The vital part—the lesson to be
learned indelibly- was my constructive and reasoned resolution of the
problem.
If I did not come up with the desired action, the simulation
would be repeated until I did. Even in the repetition, I couldn't break
through the
reality of the simulation.
94
Yet
once the training sequence was completed, I then knew it for what it
was. An interesting sidelight arose when our laboratory Explorers met
and associated with intelligent beings who did accommodate to the use
of words, some of whom closely resembled my percepts of the INSPECS.
Further, they greeted me with familiarity and I felt the same toward
them. I had never asked the INSPECS exactly what their role was in the
human Earth pattern. I assumed THEY were simply a graduate school
version of the ex-human helpers from the outer rings. Their mode of
operation and purpose seemed very similar, except that the INSPECS had
knowledge and technology far beyond that drawn from the human
experience. The fact that THEY seemed to be independent of the
recycling rings supported this belief. To pose questions about motives
seemed—irreverent. Or
perhaps I didn't want to endanger the good thing I had going for me.
Thus I had no direct and conscious communication with them while in the
OOB state. But we fools can't let it alone. On a particular night, I
had an idea
and I decided to try it out. I had been developing a sense of familiarity
with the radiation of the INSPECS and thought I could home in on the
signal
—the ident—just as I could others. I might learn much. Here is the
event, as taken from my notes and expanded to a semblance of understanding:
Time:
2:17 A.M. . . . bedroom . . . After two sleep cycles, awake,
rested, relaxed . . . went through unhook rollout method into second
body, rolled out of second, and this time I did have a percept of the
ident INSPEC . . . not much, but enough, I thought . . . homing on the
ident . . . went through normal reach and stretch procedure . . . moved
rapidly through ring system . . . and beyond, which did not surprise me
. . . began to feel warm, more so as I went until it became almost too
uncomfortable and was at the point of turning back . . . when I rammed
headlong into something and collapsed, shaken . . . I reached out and
there was a barrier, smooth in texture, rigid, impenetrable . . . still
very uncomfortable from the heat, I pulled myself together, knowing
this was the end of the line,
I might as well turn back to the physical
. . .
and a bright light, very intense, glowed in front of me, first ovate,
reshaping into a tall humanoid form, so bright
I cringed from it . . .
for what seemed an eternity, I shrank back, trying to shield myself
from the brightness . . . then I began to cool down until I was no
longer uncomfortable, and I could tolerate the brightness.
(Is that better for you?)
"Better" was an understatement. Much longer, and I would have melted.
(Did you bump your head?)
Well, I guess I could call it that. Usually my head was out front when . . .
(It is nothing to be concerned about. You have a hard head, Mister Monroe.)
That turned me around. I never thought of God having a whimsical sense
of humor. That and the Mister Monroe routine. I straightened, no
longer cowering. I almost felt like reaching out and shaking hands in greeting.
(There are more significant and suitable ways.)
I was getting bewildered. I was just floating there, trying to figure
out what happened . . .
(You encountered a condition similar to that which your scientists call
a standing wave, where two like energies in phase appear to cancel one
another to zero. Yet there is no zero, as energy does not cancel, it transforms into other dynamic states.)
So now I supposedly knew what happened. But that didn't explain where I was. If I asked . . .
("Where" is a relative term. The most reasonable explanation from your
perspective is that you are just outside the Portal, the Gate to our
reality, a conversion point. The ident you used brought you here.)
Well! There are gates to heaven, after all. I guess they could be
construed as golden and/or pearly, if you thought heaven was beyond.
(You are correct in your assumption. It is all from within the
observer.)
The percept finally came out. The communication was so natural and so
rapid that I had missed it completely. There I was, casually
talking— correction: communicating with this wonderfully Glowing Being
just as I would with a new friend. He/It was answering my questions
before I asked them, so I must be using NVC better than I realized-—no
point
in holding back any part of me, even if I wanted to. Whatever I was, It
was reading every thought I had anyway.
I opened wide, all of what I
was.
96
(That is not necessary, Mister Monroe.)
And I immediately knew why. It/THEY had been a part of the process. My
concept of an external intelligent energy source, helping,
navigating, doing the driving, was accurate.
(With your present need for individuation, yes.)
The question arose automatically: How long had this been going on? I
had become aware of it only recently, and had traced it back to the
beginning of my OOB activity, but how about before then? Have they always been . . .
(You will become aware of such reality at an appropriate point.)
All I could be sure of was my own direct experience, but they must communicate with other people . . .
(With very many by different methods, very few as we are functioning at this point.)
I knew that was the best I would get, but I wondered about the It/THEY.
(We are many, and you have known many of us.)
So THEY would be correct . . . I hoped they didn't mind the INSPECS label. Now, it seemed inadequate.
(It will serve nicely at this point, as well as any other.)
I wondered if THEY were the same as those we had met in the lab with the various Explorers . . .
(In some instances, but not all.)
So many questions, and now was my big opportunity . . .
(There will be others.)
The first question, the first, what should be the first? . . . Are THEY God or . . . ?
(We are created and we create, just as you. If God and creator are identical, then you are God to that which you create.)
I couldn't help the next one, even if it killed me. I had to know. Did THEY . . . ?
(It will not kill, as you put it, nor will it harm you. You are
prepared for an answer by your very presence here, your curiosity, as
you call it. The essence that is you and others in the human process
was not our
creation. As we, you exist before time-space human Earth pattern, just
as you do
at this point. The in-human experience is merely an addition to what
you
are. However, it is an important addition.)
I tried to sort out what was so important in being human that it would . . .
(How do you state it? A drop of water in an ocean cannot understand the seas or the wave that casts it up on a sandy beach.)
Wait a minute! That came out very human. Maybe THEY are only superhuman graduates, after all.
(Some of us have passed through the in-human. I was selected because I am one of those few.)
Few . . . I wonder how many are few. Five, ten, a thousand . . .
(It is difficult to assess due to the melding. More than the current
inphysical human population, perhaps one hundred times as many.)
That would imply THEY have been involved since the very beginning of human life.
(That is correct. Before that, we are, just as you.)
And if several hundred billion are just a few, that must mean the total of THEM must be big numbers . . .
(We do not count the parts of the whole. It is not necessary.)
If there are that many parts of the whole, then there must be other important ways to learn, other non-Earth human systems . . .
(No other precisely as you have found in-human physical Earth. There
are many other consciousness growth centers or schools, as you call
them, throughout what you know as the physical universe.)
I could bet that they participate in all of them. They would have to if . . .
(A very safe bet, Mister Monroe.)
This
was becoming an event not anything like what I expected. I was
rapidly losing my sense of awe. It was replaced with a great feeling of
warmth, of understanding, much on the order of old deep friendships,
yet filled with intense respect, not the usual pattern of expected
angels,
if that is what THEY were.
(We can quickly grow some wings if you wish.)
No, no, please, no wings. No halos either, although I got the clear percept, staring at my INSPEC—friend? . . .
(At least that, for now.)
98
I could understand how humans with limited but definite momentary
superconscious vision could add a halo to make the human-formed INSPEC
stand out as different. A brightly radiant form? How often in human
history has such perception taken place? Miracle workers, saints, local
medicine men, and last-timers on their final run, no doubt.
(No doubt at all.)
I wanted to be very careful about this, that I had at least a faint
comprehension, that I got it as specifically and accurately as I
possibly could. They, INSPECS, were in existence before humans ever
came into being, several million years ago at the minimum.
(By your time measurement, that is correct. As were you and all other
energies that are now or have been in-human, if you use this
perspective.)
Could that infer we as humans, the nonphysical energy part of us, actually are INSPECS and we don't know it?
(As we understand it, you are created by the same source.)
But we humans are not the same.
(It
is difficult to express in your terms. Consider the structure of
physical matter as various forms. Moving inward, you have named
subconstructs as atoms. These
in turn have many organizations of particles that result in distinctive
patterns. Your scientists have begun to understand the energy
relationship of these particles. They have begun to perceive the
spinning of the particle itself. It is the Creative Force (the Balance
Beam from the Aperture of the Source, LM), that produces such spinning
which we have in common.)
Which could mean vast differences if I work outward through the
structure from that base. Differences so profound there could be no point of reconciliation, even similarity.
(You are presuming a complexity which in our reality is very direct and
simple. It is the distortion of time-space illusion that causes this in
your consciousness.)
I would have to try again. There must be some ongoing relationship
between such INSPECS and humans, else why would they bother with us?
For some reason, they need us, we need them, they have been involved with human existence since we began. I'm drawing a blank.
(All of your percepts are correct within certain limits.)
I began to receive a discomforting signal to take care of something
back there . . . Back where? Where? The signal, annoying, persisted,
and I tried to ignore it. What I was doing was much too important to be
interrupted. I wanted to concentrate on my next thought-question, but
the signal got in the way. I turned to dismiss it, and realized it was
a
need to return to my physical body . . . Of course, my physical body! I
had to
go back, but I didn't want to, the chance might never come again . . .
(We can meet often at this point. We understand your need. A stronger ident homing signal will be provided that you can do so.)
The radiation was warm, understanding friendship and much more, and I
gratefully responded, and reached for the ident of my physical body
and stretched. The feeling of movement back seemed short, and I
automatically slipped into the second, then into the physical. By
habit, I looked at the clock. 2:23 A.M. Only six minutes? By
comparison, the problem that called me back was frustratingly
minuscule.
My thoughts were filled with the dazzling import of those six minutes
as I got out of bed and went to the bathroom to empty my bladder.
I slept very little, if at all, the rest of the night.
During the next several weeks, the press of daily physical activity
plus the eagerness and excitement in my anticipation kept me from
another meeting. I had difficulty in getting into the required
pre-sleep.
However carefully I approached the OOB release point after I did get
relaxed, I couldn't get into the OOB state. After repeated effort, I
did no more
than fall asleep. I realized I was forcing it too strongly, but it was
hard
to control. Finally, I gave up trying for the moment—and it
happened easily.
Time: 4:45 A.M. . . . awake and rested, although far past my usual
cycle, I went into the unhook rollout, and moved easily into the second
body state . . . moving out of the second was easy, and I reached for
an ident to home in to . . . It was there! I held back my excitement,
stayed calm . . . reached and stretched, following the signal. The
feeling of movement was short and quick and I stopped. Before me was
the shining form. Several others were behind it. Trying to remain calm
and casual, I focused on the radiation that had been so distressing
before. Now it was very tolerable—or I was getting used to it.
(A little of both, Mister Monroe. We did modify it somewhat for you.)
I had gone over many times how I would resume our communication, the
questions I would ask, the order of priority in case the pattern was
going to be broken off again suddenly. And the first one, the first one
. . .
100-101
(Your interest lay in our relationship with those in human experience prior to your departure to . . .)
To go to the bathroom! What an incongruity! Well, this time I made
absolutely sure it wouldn't happen, no coffee, very little liquids . . .
(Cause and effect, in which you place such great belief.)
Belief relief! That's a good one, I'll have to remember it. But the
other ones behind my friend, I don't remember their . . .
(As you have noted, there are others of us also here at this point.
They have been present throughout our meeting. It is your ability to
perceive that has changed. They are, how do you call it? . . .
interested . . .
"curious" is a better definition, which you understand very well.)
I'm sure I'll need all the help I can get. Here I am, consulting with a
being or beings whose penetration into human life activity has been
interpreted to be God, gods, angels, the devil . . .
(It was not our intent. Certain . . . adjustments had to be made.)
Now it is UFOs and flying saucers, which is more in keeping with current cultural concepts.
(You would have lost that bet, Mister Monroe. Such are manifestations of another pattern, of which you will soon become aware.)
I'd better let that one stay where it is and stick to the main point.
Why adjustments, whatever that means?
(Because free will is such a vital part of the human learning
experience, deviations from the design are frequent and predicted, as you would
express it. Such adjustments are no more than . . . the exact term is not there . . . fine-tuning, yes. Fine-tuning.)
I got a percept of an immense machine . . . infinitely complex and
complicated . . . with INSPECS climbing all over it, in and out of it,
turning
a knob here, a valve there, taking off a filter and cleaning it,
matching waveforms on an oscilloscope, checking materials-input flow .
. . Flow! That was it! Their concern was the flow of energy through the
human experience. The idea of a machine wiped away completely and there
was the physical earth with the human energy rings encircling it,
dreamlike
in its quality . . .
(Your last percept indicates good progress.)
But if they created the process in the first place, they should have
been aware that it would need . . . maintenance, modification.
(We did not create time-space as you know it, nor the physical Earth,
nor the human process, nor the energy flow itself. That is not our
department, as you put it. Our concern is the output and the . . . quality of such.
To this end, we adjust the internal flow as needed.)
I would have to let that one pass by, too. Try to keep from any
deviation.
(You will learn of the basic or original design.)
The greatest of virtues, patience . . .
(You are intended to walk before you fly, as you put it. Those who fly
first must reach back and remember they have already learned to walk. This was necessary for you.)
Now came the first of the high hard ones. Why me? Why did I learn to fly first?
(You had the latent capability to perform an important function of a
very minor nature at this point in the development of Human Consciousness.)
What possible capability could that be! What function! It must be so minor I can't perceive it.
(You need but examine yourself, as you and only you know what you are.
As to function, you are performing it very well, as expected.)
With a little help now and then, I hope, whatever the function is . . .
Can't pull it all together instantly, have to sort it out . . . even to
the
beginning of my flying. Did they help on that one?
(You were given some assistance. One facet of your capability was the
actual instigator. It should be obvious to you. It directs your actions
so frequently you have become conscious of it.)
The percept flared instantly. I always felt the trait was of dubious
quality. It always created more problems than solutions. Curiosity.
(That is correct.)
And the old saying, curiosity killed . . .
(A different species. It may kill cats on occasion. You are alive in
many forms.)
Now, if I could just get a percept on this function business, I might be able to perform more efficiently.
(We will attempt to bring you into an awareness of the totality of
which your function is but a part, in other meetings. Until that is
accomplished, you are unable to obtain a clear percept or any rote you
receive will
distort the function you are performing.)
102-103
I held on to the promise of that
statement, feeling very humble and inadequate . . . and astounded that
I remained as calm as I had in the
face of the encounter that was taking place . . . the effrontery of my
probing, the extent of my ignorance . . . Their radiant response to
these
flickers of thought was so profound that I nearly broke down and lost
control, no patronizing, no compassion, no feeling of superiority . . .
but beyond friendship, beyond brotherhood, beyond father-mother-parent,
beyond endearment, beyond words . . . If they had told me they were my
God-Creator, I would have settled for that.
(But we are not, Mister Monroe.)
They even knew how to pull me together, the Mister Monroe stuff. If I
had been physical, I would have laughed uproariously in relief.
Or:
Thank you, I needed that!
(We have another name for you. We can use that if you wish.)
I
was happy to leave it the way it was, for the moment. There was nothing
formal or reserved the way they used their ident for me.
But I wondered how it started.
(One
of us began to use it in a meeting in your work area . . . yes,
laboratory. Thereafter we applied this ident to you among all of us.)
I knew instantly which one, and it came as no surprise. I wished that they would give him my greetings.
(We have done so.)
But the problem, the basic question still remains unanswered. If I
don't know where I'm going, what I am supposed to do, I might go in the
wrong direction again. I know I already have done this several times .
. .
(We will help you become much more aware very soon in terms of your
time. There is a facet of your particular process that must be
accomplished first. It is all coming together rapidly. The time, as you
put it, is
growing short.)
With their perspective of time, that could mean a million years. By
that time, I'll be long gone, and humans, too.
(We refer to the span within your present physical life. So that your
awareness can be accelerated, we recommend that you use only the ident
homing signal, as you describe it, that we provide. If it is not there,
you may draw the inference that you need to focus on your physical
manifestation until the point that it is present.)
In other words, if it comes, play time is over, now back to work.
(There are certain patterns you must undergo before you proceed. We
will be with you through them, but not in your physical consciousness.
We
have prepared an exercise for you that may help you through such
experiences. Do you wish to use it?)
I had a percept of the kind of exercise, but not its content, and knew
that it would be rough. If THEY say it will help, of course I wish it.
(Turn inward and close tightly.)
CLICK!
I am flying a single-engine Navion over a large city. Bill is in the
seat beside me. We are about two thousand feet up, and we are just
below the overcast. Turbulence is minor. Gauges look good. It's a
borrowed
aircraft. I need to keep an appointment in the city below. Bill leans
and yells in my ear, (You’re going to have to land
now if you want to be on time!)
I look around. (I don't see the airport.)
(Never mind the airport.) Bill points downward. (You have to land now. Down there!)
I nod, nose the Navion down, throttle back, low pitch, gear down, three
in the green, gentle spiral, trying to decide where to set it down . .
. the street, full of cars . . . there's a wide, flat roof, I turn to
look at
Bill for approval, but he's gone! Gone! I look back quickly, I'm below
one
thousand, airspeed seventy, 500 down. Have to decide fast, opt for the
roof, at least if I get it stopped I won't kill anybody else, while in
the
street . . . line up the roof, full flaps, nose over steeply . . . drop
her in right
on the edge of the roof . . . stall warning yelling its head off . . .
chop
throttle, switches off . . . let her drop out, drop out . . . she's
down, brakes, stand on them . . . other edge coming up fast, now slow,
she's going to make it, she's down and stopped! I sigh and stop
shaking. It's hot and I open the canopy and climb down to the roof. I
stand there looking at the Navion, it's all in one piece, not a
scratch. All I have to do is find
the stairway down and I'll be on time for my appointment. But how will
I get the Navion back to its owner! It will never be able to take off a
200- foot roof. Have to remove the wings, lower it to the street by a
crane,
what a stupid decision, why did I have to . . .
CLICK!
RESET.
CLICK!
. . . the street or the roof . . . the street, cars will see me coming
in and clear a path down the middle . . . full flaps . . . nose down . . .
watch that taller building . . . that's it right over the street,
straight down the middle . . . watch for turbulence, crosswinds at the corner
. . . flare out, hold her off . . . get out of the way, get out of the
way, can't you see me! . . . stall warning yelling . . . she's quitting on
me,
too quick . . . flash of light, heat, terrible heat.
CLICK!
RESET.
CLICK!
. . . I am flying a single-engine Navion over a large city. Bill is in
the seat beside me. We are about two thousand feet up, and we are just
below the overcast. Turbulence is minor. Gauges look good. It's a
borrowed aircraft. I need to keep an appointment in the city below.
Bill leans and yells in my ear, (You’re going to have to land
now if you want to be on time.)
I look around. (I don't see the airport.)
(Never mind the airport.) Bill points downward. (You have to land now. Down there!)
(Not this kid!), I yell back. (The appointment will have to wait. If it
costs me the deal, so be it. Now, where's the airport?)
105
CLICK!
RESET.
CLICK!
. . . It's a borrowed aircraft. I need to keep an appointment in the
city below. Bill leans and yells in my ear, (You're going to have to land now if you want to be on time!)
I look around. (I don't see the airport!)
(Never mind the airport.) Bill points downward. (You have to land now.
Down there!) I laugh, swing the yoke over in front of Bill, clip the
parachute
harness across my chest. Then I unsnap my seat belt, open the canopy.
(You fly it home,) I yell as I jump far enough to clear the tail
assembly, pull the D ring, feel the jerk of the chute opening, and
start to float
down.
CLICK!
RESET.
CLICK!
(. . . Thanks for the offer of a loan of your Navion, but that's
playing it too tight, couldn’t possibly make it on time, so I called and
put off the
appointment . . .)
CLICK!
The haze was very thick and Bill was beside me. He was rolling lightly. (It took you long enough!)
I blanked, then rolled with him. (You certainly weren't any help!)
He smoothed. (Use it in good health.) I spun a little. (Where's, uh . . .)
104-106
(I got the assignment. You better go back now. You have many things to put together.)
I plied. (I guess so. See you.)
I turned, dove inward, ident physical body, and reentered without
incident. I sat up in bed, then got up, put on a bathrobe, and went out on the
deck. It was a clear night, quiet and warm. I was still unsure as to
how or why it happened, but I had no doubt as to the reality of the
experience. If I encountered it and knew it, how
many more thousands of human beings living right at this time-point on Earth also have gone through the
same or similar pattern? If they have, to whom would they tell it? And
the other training centers on Planets circling those billions of stars,
tied to
us by an intelligent energy field common to all of us. Were they as
unaware as
we? I felt very small, looking at the stars—and beyond. But not
alone. Never alone.
9. Rainbow Route
At this point, I began to accept my new role, whatever it was, and no
longer pushed hard for further adventures or activities in the other
energy systems I knew to exist. I did realize that in my sleep state
much was taking place which affected my conscious thought and action. I
made no effort to investigate this, believing that it would take care
of itself
and was supportive of the course I was following.
If I had resumed the sleeper's classes, hopefully I was applying what I
learned in my daily life. Spaced through several years of time were
periodic meetings-instruction sessions with the INSPEC. I still used
this ident because I knew of no other appropriate one that was not
tainted with cultural-philosophical connotations. The most recent
INSPEC event precipitated the gathering of all of my notes on the
interim adventures, and the pieces filled in the mosaic.
The following is no more than a survey of the salient or critical parts
of the sequence. In the interests of brevity and a feeling of get-to-
the-pointism, the usual preamble and closure as to going OOB and
returning to the physical are omitted except when highly relevant. Each
of the following events began at the point in non-time-space near the
edge of INSPEC "territory," with at least one of them present.
CLICK!
If I have a desire, curiosity—no, more than
curiosity—it would be to know, not believe, but know what is beyond this point . . . where THEY are . . .
(It is a question of remembering. As you are at this point, you
cannot— the word?—tolerate a visit among us. We can prepare you for
it, if that is your wish. The preparation is not simple.)
108-109
When THEY state it's not simple, I knew it was an understatement from my perspective. But it was what I wanted . . . yes!
(We will make the adjustments necessary in your space-time belief. The perception must be yours alone.)
CLICK!
. . . I am playing out in the front yard, riding my tricycle on and off
the sidewalk and into the grass . . . the sun has gone out behind a
cloud
but it hasn't started to rain . . . I think if it gets dark, I can
light the candle in my tin-can headlight, but I'll have to go in the kitchen to
get
some matches . . . when I get bigger, I'm going to have me a blue car that goes AAAAARRRRR, AAAAARRRRR . . . then I'm going to
have an airplane, that's what I want most, an airplane, so I can fly up
through that dark cloud, up where the sun is shining behind it, then
I could go up and dive through the cloud, WHEEEOOO, WHEEEOOO . . .
oh shoot, it's starting to rain, I'll have to go in the house,
just one more circle in the yard . . . I have my airplane, WHEEEOOO,
WHEEEOOO . . . big flash of light . . . white light, lightning! . . .
bang! . . . I am off my tricycle . . . in the grass, grass is wet, got
to get up and get in the house, get my tricycle on the porch so it
won't get
wet . . . but I can't move, I can't move, what's the matter? . . . it's
dark, I can't see . . . can't feel anything . . . I'm not hurt, I don't
hurt
anywhere, but I can't see, can't get my face out of the grass, got to
get up, my bike will get wet and it will rust, got to get it on the
porch . . .
but I can't move, I can't move! . . . what? . . . what? . . . just
balloon it and I can go the porch, how could I forget that! How could I
forget to balloon! What would make me forget something so basic! Yes!
Balloon, can do it without thinking how, anybody can balloon! And . . .
yes!
Three-way . . . I could do a three-way and it wouldn't be dark . . .
why, any curl can do a three-way without turning, you need to three-way
if you want to keep your spiral going, what happened to me that I would
forget such a simple thing as that! . . . I could pull a skip and . . .
skip? Skip! And there's more, it's all coming back, I remember it all
and
those important fundamentals that I never thought about forgetting
because it was impossible, it is as basic as who you are, how is it
possible that
I forgot these, and all the rest that I know? I am astounded that I
could forget! . . . forget, forget . . . I'm getting wet, it's raining
hard . . . I'm
getting muddy . . . that big bang was thunder, hurt my ears, but I can
hear, and I can move . . . I feel but I don't hurt, so I guess I'm all
right
. . . got to get my bike up on the porch and get a rag and wipe the
water and mud off . . .
Air -
Balloon! Robert remembered that before the Planetary Game he could fly
becase he didn't have a physical body! So he couldn't understand why he
forgot it. He could've used that ability in the situation, he thought!
CLICK!
Now I remember! I was
very young, playing out in front of the house before a thunderstorm . .
. the lightning hit a power pole near the
street, not me, my father told me . . . the concussion or something
stunned me . . . and he carried me up to the front porch. I was all
right
in a few minutes . . . but the rest of it, I had forgotten completely,
even now I just remember the knowing, not the details...
(A glimpse of who you are before you
undertake the human experience. How it took place is not important.
Such momentary recall occurs
frequently during the physical process but is obscured and discarded
amid the more immediate consistent impact of physical information
input. Yet the event is retained, below the surface of consciousness,
and therefore
affects your subsequent action. It is significant that thenceforth you
did not
fear lightning and thunder, as you call it, but found pleasure in such
manifestation. This is one effect of such pre-human recall brought near
your physical conscious level. Another, more cogent, was the subtle
alteration in your
physical life process that led you unknowingly to your present state.)
I hope that doesn't mean that everyone has to get almost struck by
lightning to begin to wake up. It wouldn't be a very popular method . .
.
(Most such events are so gentle as to remain unnoticed. Yet they are
there if recall is necessary. We have another episode for you, if you desire
it.)
How could I forget these things! . . . Yes, yes.
(Here
is another area of your perception that is a part of the emergence you
have long forgotten. It is completely your own. We do no more than
assist you in your recall.)
110
CLICK!
. . . I want to hear the music . . . I want to hear the special music .
. . I know how to make the Victrola play the music because I learned
how, I learned how just from watching, and then she watched me show her
how I could play it, then she said I could play it but I had to be
real careful so I don't break the records . . . so I'm not being bad if
I
play it . . . I pull the chair over close to the Victrola so I can
stand on it
and put the record in the top . . . I have to lift up the heavy lid,
but I do
it . . . I turn the shiny crank in the side, more and more until it
won't crank
any more, but I don't crank it after that because it might break the
spring . . . then I open the front doors of the Victrola, and there is
my
special music record on the first shelf just where I left it . . . pull
the
record out and be real careful to don't break it, and put it up on top.
Then I
climb up on the chair. I pull the paper cover off the record and put
the record
on the wheel . . . then I put the shiny fat arm part with the sharp
needle
in it down real careful on the edge of the black record . . . now
everything is ready . . . I move the little shiny finger and the wheel
with the
black record on it starts moving, and I hurry down off the chair to
where the music is . . . the music starts coming out of the Victrola
and I feel
real quiet, so I close my eyes . . . it is blank for a long time as I
listen
to the music, but then I feel a surge way down at the bottom of me, and
it
feels like tingling when my foot goes to sleep, but it doesn't hurt, it
feels
good, and with it I hear raining, just like rain on the roof, but it
comes
and goes . . . and the music gets so soft I can't hear it anymore . . .
then it's quiet and I can't hear or feel anything . . . there it is
again, coming
up from the bottom of me more, the tingle and the rain surge, and it
feels better than anything
I ever felt . . . and I wait for it to happen again . . . here it comes
again, stronger and bigger, and it feels so good it
starts to hurt, but I don't mind the hurt because it feels so good . .
. then
it fades away again . . . I know it's coming back, and it does . . .
much, much stronger and bigger, up through me, the best and happiest
feeling I could ever have, so happy I want to cry, and the hurt is so
strong it's cutting me right up the middle in two pieces . . . then it
goes back again, down out the bottom of me, and I know that there is
nothing, nothing nicer
I will ever feel than what just was, no hurt could hurt
more than what I just felt . . . and I feel it rising again and I don't
think I could stand it if it was any stronger, but there it is getting
bigger
and stronger, the good, good, good tingle and the rain roar and the
hurt so hard, coming right up to my head, terrible, terrible sharp hurt
. . .
this is so good and so hurting there can't ever be anything that feels
so good
and hurts so much, never never . . . then it starts to go away and I
know
that I will always remember this bright, bright good and the big, big
hurt
and nothing will ever be as good or hurt so much . . . but there it
comes again, no, no! . . . I can't stand it again, I can't, I can't!
The good
makes me cry, it's so good, and the hurt makes me cry, it hurts so
much, it
can't be more than the one before, it was the biggest there is, it
can't be
any bigger, the good and the hurt . . . but it is, and I scream with
joy and pain and I know this is the greatest of all there is, the
exquisite
joy, beauty, that transcends any thought or consciousness . . . that
the pain is
merely the anguish of physical structure attempting to contain energy
beyond
the ability to do so, that one day I will experience it again without
the
pain because I will understand better, one day it will take place, the
great
glory of . . . I feel hands picking me up and I am crying a little, not
too
much, and
I open my eyes and raise my head. The music in the Victrola has stopped
and she, my mother, is looking at me and saying something . . .
CLICK!
. . . Yes, yes, I remember what a great privilege I felt it was to have
been given permission to play the Victrola, and I proudly never broke a
single record . . . symphonies, operas my mother liked, plus some
saxophone jazz records the college student who roomed upstairs gave me,
which I played when no one was listening but me . . . and I remember
the same sequence when going under anesthesia before surgery, the
identical pattern . . .
(The acceptance of pain as a condition of joy is the symbol of conflict
within physical life existence. The pattern of the present is not
consistent
with the promise of the future as you perceive it within time-space
illusion. A conflict of realities, from your aspect.)
I remember so well ... if that is the joy, I will take the pain again, if I can stand it ...
112
(It is not necessary. Your present Consciousness now has a beginning
point of reference. It is possible for you to perceive the destination
of the
Rays of Pure Energy you have called loosh/love as it penetrates into
your Earth Space in several segments of what you call time. We will assist
you in
Your Placement within The Event. The delineation, the decision to
distinguish must be yours solely. Are you ready to do this?)
I don't know positively what I will be looking for, but I will never
forget again. If that is what I seek, I will find it.
CLICK!
The Sun is setting and I am sitting alone in the sand outside our tent.
The desert is cooling now, and soon it will be dark and it will become
very cold. I have built a fire from camel dung so that we will be warm
. . . yes, I am Shola, and my woman and our two offspring, a boy and a
girl,
are in the tent behind me. We are dying. I can see the village in the
distance and the cooking fires are glowing in the twilight. We came
with goods to trade but they would not let us enter. They cast stones
at us to keep us away. We could not go across the desert to another
village because we
had little water and we are ill. Now after these many days, we have no
water and no food. We have survived this far only by eating camel dung,
something only a dog would do. Our two camels will live and we will
die. They cannot catch the illness, the plague that brings the open
sores on our
skin which do not heal. I would kill the camels to eat, but they are
old
friends. We do not eat old friends to continue our own existence. It
does not matter now. Food and water will not help. The illness is
taking us along the course to death. There is nothing to be done. I do
not want to crawl into the tent for fear they are gone, all of my
family. I do not want to know I am alone. We have done so many things
together, the pains and the joys we have shared . . . the working and
being together, my woman and the young ones . . . no illness, no death
can remove the bond that grew and blossomed among us . . .
CLICK!
I can still feel the echoes . . . it's a life I don't remember, if I
lived it . . . but the sharing of purpose, of unity required for simple
survival
. . . nothing more than that can bring it out . . . the attachment
beyond husband-wife and parenthood . . . that, I remember . . .
(Beyond
physical manifestation, misinterpreted, misunderstood, and often
overlooked, this is a facet of the prime expression, it is part
of the learning process peculiar to the human experience.)
. . . This is the goal in being human? To learn to do or be this?
(Indirectly, that is correct. It is but part of a broad spectrum. One
goal is to become the generator and transformer of such radiation (Energy of Balance, LM).
It
is
important that you perceive the scope and attunement of the recipient.
The being
on the desert was attuned and therefore was only the recipient, but
neither transformer, nor generator. The Goal is Generation and
Transformation
only.
Do you desire this pattern of perception to continue?)
If I have smoothed enough to do so . . .
(You have.)
CLICK!
We are lying around the protective defense circle of the encampment . .
. it is night. Our bellies are full and our feet hurt from the long
march. The fallen leaves are dry, and make a noise when we roll over.
This
would be bad if we were the outer guards, but we need not concern
ourselves. The outer guards will sound the alarm if the enemy attacks
by night. My helmet is close to my left hand, as is my shield. Near my
right is my
kuri, whose cold, sharp point and keen cutting edges have become as
much a part of me as the arm that wields it. On one side of me is my
friend
Cheti, who snores so loudly in his sleep that he awakens the birds. On
the
other is my friend Dorn, who sleeps like death itself, yet is instantly
awake
at the whisper of his name . . . we are but a part of this great host
who
will, in the morrow, meet and cut our enemy to pieces. We are three. I
recall
well the day we met on the training ground, many seasons past. Cheti,
tall
and stumbling, from the high mountains. Dorn, solid as stone, from the
great forest, and I, from the flat midlands. Not a word was spoken
among us
for days as we learned the killing arts. How that changed with our
first
battle, that moment when we formed a triangle back to back, surrounded
by twice our number of yellow-hairs! Cheti, calling out such stupid
curses
at the yellow-hairs that even Dorn was laughing, and laughing gave us
fresh energy, so we fought our way out of the trap . . . then we were
three. Through the battles, the wounds, many of both, too many from
such as
me to count . . . we are three. They are more to me than my brother,
whose face and voice I cannot now bring to mind . . . more than any
woman I have ever known, yet not the same . . . and the man in that
village who asked me about my sons and daughters, and I replied I don't
know my sons and daughters,
if I have any, they go with a woman and I have no woman, I am of
the legion, so I have no woman or sons and daughters to whom I am
bonded . . . just those women I can bed down when we capture a town . .
. there was one, she was warm and did not scream but whispered in my
ear and I was as gentle as I could be with
her, I might have bonded with her . . . but we are three and it is
different. I would lay down my life for Cheti or Dorn, that they would
live instead
of me, and I know without their speaking that it is the same with them
. .
. I do not understand why this is so, but they are me, I am them, and
we
are
three . . .
CLICK!
. . . Yes, I have the percept three, three hundred, three thousand,
three million, three billion, it is the same . . . common effort,
willingly or not, long association, repeated shared experience . . .
this special bonding beyond self can take place without awareness of
what it is or
its importance . . . often it can't be called love because local custom
would then attach a physical sexual inference to it, male or female . .
.
thus it is covered over and sublimated . . .
(You are learning rapidly. Your human perspective serves you well. Do you wish to move to the next point in your survey?)
I understand what is happening, the human portion ... if it is still of
that value, I am fine . . .
(We will continue, then.)
CLICK!
I am standing in front of a stone building with a tall spire. Wide
steps lead down to the cobbled square, and the square is filled with a
flow of people, horse-drawn wagons and carts, and the dusty smell of
human sweat, animals, cooking, and excrement from all manner of living
things. I am a Priest, and although it is hot, I am wearing my
brown-hooded robe that reaches to my ankles. It is cool inside the
church, yet I am loath
to enter. The Ritual is about to begin, and I must attend and
participate
as part of the duties of my calling. I am sick in heart at what I must
do.
It is so different from that which I dreamed those years ago, my life
in the service of the Almighty. The glory of the tolling bell in the
spire,
the rich voices of the choir echoing throughout the arched roof in Holy
Harmony, the majesty and mystery of the Processional, the bowed heads
of the reverent, kneeling people, they are the same. These are the
parts that brought open the rising need in me, and I answered. Now they
are the same, but I am not. Where is the need? It has left,
unfulfilled. Where
is the mystery? It has vanished under the weight of the unfolding years
and that which my eyes have seen and my ears have heard . . . the bell
begins its tolling, and that is the signal that I must enter and join
the others. I turn and pass through the smaller door to one side and
into
the Great Hall. I move slowly down the main aisle to the waiting group
at
the Altar. The High Priest stands in front of the Altar, wearing his
white
robe with the golden braided symbols across the front. On his head is
the
Holy Crescent Moon. Behind him are the Seven Keepers of the Realm, each
holding a staff atop which is one of the Seven Sacred Stars lighted by
a flaming taper. As I approach the Altar, I know what I will see upon
it,
and I am correct. A young girl attired in a flowing gown of bright red
to
hide the blood is lying upon its stone surface. Silken cords are
attached to
her ankles and wrists, then to large rings on the sides of the Altar. I
know well the Ritual although I have never performed it. Once I have
completed the Sacred Act in the name of the Almighty, I will transcend
that status of
a lowly Priest and become an Alternate Keeper of the Realm. When one of
the Seven dies and departs for Chimmon, the Land of Eternal Joy and the
Throne of the Almighty, I will become one of the Seven. When the High
Priest departs, one of the Seven will take his place and assume his
Power and Glory as the direct Communicant with the Almighty. Perhaps I
may be that one . . . but now I am not sure. The dream of years past
flickers within me and it is not this. If I do not perform the Ritual,
I will be stripped of my robe, cast out into the street, where I will
be stoned to death by the populace. I move next to the Altar, and the
High Priest hands me the Ritual blade, a slender, sharply pointed knife
with a
carved silver handle. I have been instructed carefully where to insert
the
Ritual knife at various spots on her body so as to keep from causing
her death immediately, but to engender exquisite ecstasy within her
while the High Priest and the Seven give their Blessings . . . I raise
the blade for
the first swift insertion . . . and I stop, arm upraised. I am looking
into
the eyes of the girl. In them are fear, puzzlement, resignation . . .
and
beyond these, a Knowing, a Depth that carries me past the distortion of
my dream and into what I was sure was always there . . . I lower my
arm, turn, and drop the silver knife, only a knife, in front of the fat
man
who calls himself a High Priest . . . I cannot do it, no,
I will not do
it
. . . and I am free! . . . and a Bright White Ray comes through the
ceiling of the Great Hall and centers on me, flashes through My Entire
Being, the silver knife melts to a mound of metal, the silk cords drop
from the
girl, and the Altar trembles and splits open as the girl rises from it
and
stands . . . the men in the robes kneel transfixed, their eyes staring
into
blindness at the Brilliant White Ray . . .
CLICK!
.
. . Yes! . . . and somewhere in man's history, a legend is born . . .
the event is only a dim memory to me, if even that . . . but the
emotion I felt, I experienced . . . that is clear and strong . . .
(What you call emotion is essential to the basic learning process. It
is a specific observable result of exposure to the loosh/love
radiation.
Therefore, it is the driving force, the creative energy which motivates
human
thought and action. Without it you would remain as animals.) But
animals show something, it is very close to what I know of as emotion .
. .
(What you perceive is a reflection, a response to human radiation of
such energy, which has been self-generated or transformed by the human. We will demonstrate this for you if you wish.)
That would be great, I would enjoy that very much . . .
(We shall see, as you put it.)
CLICK!
. . . Our little dog with
the funny name, Steamboat, he is walking with me along the road in
early morning . . . he is such a friend . . . his
bright gladness at seeing me . . . he actually grins when he wants you
to know what a nice guy he is, just because that's what his human
close-by god does . . . his seeming need to be with you,
enthusiastically do what you want to do . . . just a word from me, and
he comes running to me joyfully . . . it's much more than the fact that
I feed him, most of
what we do has no relationship to such . . . we have a bond that might
be called friendship, he's succeeded in making friends with his god,
doing things together, that's pretty good stuff, making friends with
your god . . . now he's been diverted into the wooded bank alongside
the road, eagerly seeking an ever-elusive rabbit, but after a short
search,
he will return, bounding across the road to walk just in front of me
again
. . . then I hear a vehicle, a car or truck, approaching behind the
blind curve and I call to Steamboat to come to me, stand and be where
it is safe . . . it is a truck, and it comes around the curve quickly,
too
quickly . . . just ten feet away from passing me, Steamboat leaps down
the bank from the woods and directly under the wheel of the truck . . .
there is
a rending scream as the wheel grinds over the lower half of his body,
flattening it completely . . . the truck moves away and stops, and the
driver gets down from his cab, sadly apologetic . . . I get to where
Steamboat is still trying to come to me, his front legs trying to drag
the crushed half across the road to where I am . . . I sit down on the
road in front of him, and he stops trying to move as I reach out and
rub his head, tears forming in my eyes as minuscule evidence of the
deep sorrow within me . . . through my hand, I feel the heavy tremors
moving through his body from the pain, and he licks my hand and looks
up at me, asking, hoping his god will take care of the pain . . . I
look
at his body, the damage so irreparable there is no hope . . . he licks
my hand again . . . and I accept the
responsibility...
p.119
I get up and move to the waiting truck driver,
removing my pullover shirt as I go . . . a look passes between us and he knows that
I do not blame him, that he should harbor no guilt . . . sadness
shared, yes . . . but no guilt . . . I was responsible, not he . . . I
move to the truck, remove the cap from the gas tank, and push the shirt into
the tank, soaking it with fluid . . . then I remove the dripping cloth
and move back to Steamboat, who has watched me expectantly, too weak to
do more . . . I sit down, and his head drops into my lap, eyes looking
up to me, asking, asking . . . gently, I move the cloth over his nose
with
one hand and place the other on his head . . . his eyes look at me
deeply
and the tremors in his neck subside slowly and are gone . . . I see and
know the closeness we share is eternal, and he somehow knows this, too
. . . the conscious awareness in his eyes dims and is gone...and
they are only eyes with my tears in them!
CLICK!
. . . But that didn't happen! Steamboat is alive! He is back where I came from, somewhere near my physical body . . .
(That is correct. The event occurred earlier in this physical life, a
different animal, dog as you call them. You identified it as your
present
attachment. In the earlier episode, uncontrolled emotion overwhelmed
you and you were helpless. You did nothing to fulfill your
responsibility. In
your present state of awareness, you exercised the control that is so
important, which displays your growing ability even in our synthesized
demonstration. The paradox attached to such vital energy, emotion as
you call it, is
the opportunity for growth it provides and the simultaneous possibility
of
stasis and retrogression. Control and direction thereof thus becomes a
prime
purpose in the evolving human experience. Understanding and comprehension is
the resultant and flows without effort. At no point is the goal to
repress or suppress such energy. Instead, it is enhanced when directed
and focused into the channels for which it was originally designed.
What you call
your curiosity is perhaps the most unrecognized and undistorted form of
such energy. Yet it is the underlying force that produces what humans
consider their most outstanding historical achievement.)
. . . This is coming too high and fast, I'll have to put this particular rote away and run it later . . .
(Do you wish to participate in your final demonstration?)
. . . As it
is the last one, I assume it is the most stringent . . . if I could
just
remember it is only a demonstration, as THEY call it, seems more like a
test . . .
but if I could remember, it wouldn't be a test . . . there's something
similar here to all of human physical experience, this not-remembering
business and the importance of it . . . the final test, yes! . . .
CLICK!
. . . I am sitting alone in the house and it is quiet . . . even our
furry friends seem subdued . . . both dog and cat lie half asleep in
the front hall, facing the door, waiting . . . the Sun has just set and
twilight
is moving in . . . soon it will be dark, and I can sit in the dark and
see
the house full of things, things she selected and liked so much, things
she
made do with until there was better, things her grandmother used, thing
she placed or hung in each room or put in closets and drawers where
only she knew where they were . . . all an expression of her and
bearing her reflection . . . but she is gone, she is not here as I
expected . . .
I
don't need light to see the things to remind me she was here . . . the
sight
of them does not disturb me and I would not change or remove them
because they have her strong imprint . . . I can find her in the dark
or in the light, it makes no difference . . . she taught me so much
without knowing she did . . . the very female human response to moments
large and little, uncovered, uncolored except by her own perspective .
. .
all of these she shared with me . . . so that I lead not one but three
lives,
hers, mine, and our meld . . . and she helped me learn release from one
of the most difficult of all, that physical sexual drive is not the
fundamental of this energy I don't know what else to call but love, but
one of the most common inducements to kindle the process . . . once the
full flame is created, the inducement is not even the fuel that feeds
it, but instead
a multileveled minor physical note in an infinite chord . . . I now
understand a mother and physical motherhood without being one . . . why
a woman likes to be a wife and the admix of the idealistic and the
realistic
that foments such liking
121
. . . a lifetime of
human gamut in a fraction thereof . . . the whither thou goest, I go,
is more than true, yet a
release from this part is needed and accepted . . . she goes with me
and I go with her . . . aloneness is an illusion . . . here or there,
the flame
is eternal and we carry within us that which we have received and
created . . . she is returning now as I knew she would . . . and we
will not exchange goodbyes or forwarding addresses, our idents in one
another are indelible . . . just one final moment in this point of time
. . .
CLICK!
(Your perception was quite clear, Ashaneen. The demonstration was
successful.)
. . . It was very strange . . . one of us had released from the
physical, and I thought she was the one . . . then as it developed, I
momentarily became unsure, it could have been I . . . and I finally
realized it
didn't make any difference which of us . . . the result was the same .
. . now, of course, I don't have to ask if it has happened, but I know
it will
one day in our serial time . . .
(That is correct. The result is the same. We now believe you are
prepared to visit us, where we are as you call it, if that is still your desire.
It will not be a demonstration, but our reality. However, we will guide you and
return you to this point. It is important that you understand that such a
visit, momentary as it may seem, can produce within you changes that are
irrevocable.)
. . . I do desire it, and I accept the responsibility for any changes
that may occur in me.
(Open widely. Have fun, as you put it.)
CLICK!
"(I am in a bright
white tunnel and
moving rapidly. No, it is not a tunnel, but a tube, a transparent,
radiating tube. I am bathed in the radiation which courses through all
of me, and the intensity and recognition of it envelop my consciousness
and I laugh with
great joy.
Something has changed, because the last time, they had to shield me
from the random vibration of it. Now, I can tolerate it easily, the
actual energy itself. The radiation flow is two-directional in the
tube. The flow moving past me in the direction fromwhich I came is smooth, even, and undiluted. The
flow that I am is moving in the opposite direction and appears much
different. It is organized in a more complex form. It is the same as
the wave moving past me, but it contains a multitude of small waves
impressed upon the basic (small
waves of his Alters,
LM).
I am both the basic and the small waveforms, moving back to the Source.
The movement is steady and unhurried, impelled by a desire
I know but
cannot express. I vibrate with joyous ecstasy just by the knowing. (The
tube seems to become larger as another joins it from one side, and
another waveform melds into me and we become one. I recognize the other
immediately, as it does me, and there is the great excitement of
reunion, this other I and I. How could I have forgotten this! We move
along together, happily exploring the adventures, experience, and knowledge of the
other. The tube widens again, and another I joins us, and the process
repeats itself. Our waveforms are remarkably identical and our pattern
grows stronger as they move in phase. There are variegations
(multicolored) in each which, when combined with another related
anomaly, create a new and important modification of the total that we
are.
(The tube expands again and I am no longer concerned with its walls as
still another I enters the wave-form Flow. This is particularly exciting, as it is the first I perceive
as returning from a
completely nonhuman sojourn.
Yet the intermesh was near-perfect and we became so much more. Now we
know that, somewhere, a consciously controlled physical tail, much like
a monkey's, is useful in ways far more than balance and acting as a
third hand for holding things. It can be a very efficient means of
communication far beyond a super sign language just as eloquent as the
spoken word.
(Steadily and surely, one I after another joins us. With each, we
become more aware and remember more of the total. How many does not
seem important. Our knowledge and ability is so great that we do not
bother to contemplate it (consider thoughtfully). It is not important. We are One!
(With this, we divert from the underlying waveform and move away from
it. We watch motionless in unified respect as the action of it
continues away from us into an infinity. We also perceive easily the
smooth originating wave coming from such infinity and dissolving into
the pattern from whence
we came (The Source,
LM).
(Flowing through all
of us is a
coherent energy that is our creation, that displays immensely the
reality of the whole as far greater than the sum of the parts. Our
ability and knowledge seem without limit, yet we know at this point
such is valid only within the energy systems of our experience. We can
create time as we wish or the need arises, reshaping and modifying
within the percept itself. We can create matter from other energy
patterns, or change the structure thereof to any degree desired,
including reversion (return to a former condition) to original form.
We can create, enhance, alter, modulate, or eradicate any percept
within the energy fields of our experience. We can transform any such
energy fields one into another or others except for that which we are.
We cannot create or comprehend our Prime Energy until we
are complete." (the Energy of the
Creative Force and our Souls are part of it, LM) Go get them, tiger!)
(And a rote, as you call it, to play with.)
CLICK!
The return to the physical was near-instantaneous, my face and eyes
were wet. I sat up in the chair and remembered. I reached for the
yellow pad and pen, to get the rote into words immediately. I knew I
had changed. For the rest of my physical life, I would remember. But
this would never change:
For those who would die, there is life.
For those who would dream, there is reality.
For those who would hope, there is knowledge.
For those who would grow, there is eternity.
125
10.
NEWFOUND FRIEND
QUICK CUES
Blank: Don't understand
CLICK!: Change consciousness
Closed: Tune down or out
Curl: Organized energy
Dulled: Lost interest
Flickered: Uncertain
Ident: Name/address
Lighted: Idea, happy
M-Band: Thought spectrum
M-Band noise: Uncontrolled thought
Real
time: 3:05 A.M. . . . body rested, relaxed . . . sense of warmth. . .
gentle insistent signal, familiar . . . good enough, deep breath,
exhale, detach, unhook, down and out, then up . . . free of physical,
up slightly, roll, out of second body, leave it in parking orbit . . .
now
totally free . . . begin to home on INSPEC ident . . . out of phase
with
physical, moving . . . usual easy process . . . rapidly through dense
Inner Rings . . . ought to be some way to wake all of them up at once,
that would be something . . . not even a good simulation of hell . . .
if you won't accept you're no longer physical, you're dead, dead, dead
and
still alive . . . now more out of phase, into the center major ring,
used to
call it Locale II . . . what an understatement, misnomer . . . at least
they've begun to understand and remember . . . dim forms, light up if
you focus on them . . . this is where my father was, Dr. Gordon, Agnew
. . . more out of phase in spiral, nearly past the last Outer Ring . .
.Somebody grabbed me! Keep calm, cool, it can be worked out, happened
before but not this far on the edge, no need to abort and go back to
physical . . . don't move, no movement . . . it's releasing me, easing
back . . . totally different energy pattern, but intelligent, yes, must
operate on M Band . . . certainly not . . .
(Didn’t intend to push you.) The form was open, vibrating.
(Your ident almost exactly like somebody else, my percept was he was you.)
I smoothed. (That's O.K.)
The form blanked. (O.K.?)
(There's no problem.)
The homing signal was still there, and I turned to move, when suddenly
the signal cut off. It was gone. This had rarely happened before,
usually there was a reason. Almost instantly I got the percept. I
turned back to the form. It was dulled and closed, receding.
(Hey, wait a minute.)
The form opened slightly, blanked, motionless.
(Can I help you?)
The form vibrated slightly. (You’re human, or used to be?)
I smoothed. (Well, yes, but not exactly the way you . . .)
(If you’re human, you can't help, because you’re
addicted like all the rest.) The form vibrated heavily. (Takes more smarts than any human or
anyone who's ever been human. They’re contaminated.)
I had a percept of great loneliness. (Try me.)
Small bits of rote drifted out of the form as it flickered half open.
They had a different pattern and I couldn't put them together, too strange.
The first response in me was wariness, then I remembered what I had learned.
I opened wide. (Try me.)
The form flickered, then lighted somewhat. (Well, I have this friend, and . . . there's a problem. Here...)
A large bulky rote rolled out of the form and straight to me. I
gathered it in carefully, and certainly with caution. There are some
rotes one
would just as soon do without. This one also had an alien ident.
Slowly, I
opened it.
126 - 127
CLICK!
The Tour Guide checked to be sure all members of the group were
present. It had been an extensive cruise and this was the last point of
interest.
(May I have your attention, please? If you’re ready, we will
make one more entry into TSI. I'm sure you will find it most interesting.)
Ident AA dulled. (I think I'll sit this one out.)
Ident BB turned to his friend. (Aw, come on, AA, it's only one more, then we'll be heading for home.)
(One more, one more.) AA vibrated. (The exciting and amazing timespace
illusion! TSI! Experience it in person! I could have stayed home and
got the same effect. See one, you’ve seen them all.)
(This is supposed to be different.) BB lighted.
(Sure, sure.)
(. . . And I am instructed to caution you to be prepared for extreme
discordant M Band radiation), the Tour Guide continued. (So I suggest
that you shield yourselves accordingly.)
AA turned to BB, half closed. (Same old buildup. Probably more rock, more dust, more craters.)
(. . . Stay on the perimeter, keep a safe distance. You'll find enough
to keep your attention at that point. Is everyone ready?)
(You coming, AA?) BB queried his friend unnecessarily. He knew him very well.
AA turned. (Oh, all right. You'll never let me forget it if I don't.)
CLICK!
The blue-green ball rushed closer until it blotted out all other
perception.
Then they were hovering just above tall rectangular masses set in
orderly rows. In deep furrows between the masses, objects of various
shapes were moving slowly. Noise level in the M Band was near
unbearable.
BB focused down with disgust. (What a mess!)
The Tour Guide began his carefully prepared spiel. (This is one of the
major matter artifacts created by the dominant species, ident man or
human
if you remember your briefing. Local ident is New York.)
BB dulled. (Doesn't look very new to me.)
(The human species are the ones that appear more vertical than
horizontal,)
the Tour Guide continued. (The various colors you perceive are emanating
from an artificially produced covering used principally for decorative
reasons. The larger mobiles are in fact artificial physical bodies
which are
often temporarily inhabited by the dominant species, and use chemical
reaction of an explosive force to provide operating energy.)
(You were right, AA. It's not worth the effort and that M Band noise is
turning me inside out.) BB scanned his friend. (Getting to you, too,
huh?)
AA focused raptly at the activity around them. (Fascinating, absolutely
fascinating.)
BB turned to him quickly. (What?)
(The incredible power. I've never felt anything like it.)
(What power?)
(Don't you feel it? So many different kinds, all randomly mixed
together.)
(Where, what are you talking about?)
AA reached out, stretching. (Coming from them. The M Band energy
patterns, thousands upon thousands, some hard, some soft, and the
texture,
the texture!)
BB blanked. (You all right?)
AA opened wide. (I'm fine. In fact, I'm wonderful. I never knew anything
like this existed.)
BB suddenly lighted. (It's the MBand noise! You've sopped up too much
of . . .)
(Not noise, BB,) AA cut in. (Certainly not noise. It's an amazing
mixture
of resonance, beat frequencies, standing waves, incalculable patterns.)
(Noise. That's what the prep briefing called it. That's what everybody
calls it. Plain old M Band noise . . .)
AA turned inward. (I wonder what it's really like.)
(What do you mean, really like! It's all over the place. All primitive
life
sets have it. MBand noise is MBand noise. Come on, let's get out of
here,
the cruise group is leaving.)
AA still remained inward. (To be there, to be in it must be
spectacular.)
128 FAR JOURNEYS NEWFOUND FRIEND 129
(I wouldn’t know and I don't want to know.) BB grunted. (I've
heard it
can be done, BB.) (Rumor, street talk.) BB vibrated impatiently. (Come
on, AA, we’ll lose the group if we don't . . . AA! Where you
going?
AA!)
CLICK!
AA entered the Intermediate Area, BB in his wake. He stopped in front
of a tall burly form that seemed to resemble the humans he had just
seen.
(I'm looking for the way to get to be human.)
(This is ident Entry Station,) the form responded curiously.
(I want to do it.) AA vibrated. (I mean, I want to be human.)
The form blanked. (You want to what?)
(I want to find out what it s like to be human, the way they are over
down
there.) AA pointed. (I don't mean permanently, just long enough to get
the
feel of it.)
(fust long enough to get the feel of it.) The form turned inward, then
out. (Why would you want to do a thing like that!)
(Well, uh . . .) AA tried to sort out the pattern in himself.
(We’re on
this TSI cruise, and when we went in over ident New York, I suddenly .
. .
it was very strange, I wanted, uh, wanted . . .)
(The M Band noise,) BB put in. (It got to him.)
The form nodded. (Yea, the M Band noise. It'll do it if you're not
careful.)
(I don't know how to express it.) AA flickered, attempting to coalesce.
(It seems very important that I try it.)
(fust for kicks, a high, something new,) the form suggested.
(Well, yes.) AA lighted. (At least at first. Now, something more than
that, I've never felt an interest this strongly.)
(Where you from?) The form smoothed politely.
(KT-95), BB came in quickly. (I know it's a hefty skip from here, but we
had got a lot of rote about time-space and the TSI. No one had ever
visited
it from KT-95, so when this cruise was offered . . . well, you know,) he
added, (it can get kind of boring. You do something to break the
monotony.)
(I can do it?) There was slight anxiety in AA's query. (Rumor rote back
home had wild stories about it, but even in the cruise rote, there's no
official
mention, so . . .)
The form sighed. (All you have to do is ask. That's all, ask.)
AA lighted with unusual brilliance. (That's just great! I certainly . .
.)
(AA, hold it, hold it,) BB cut in. (You absolutely sure you know what
you’re doing? I remember some wild rote about parts of it
that weren’t quite
so . . .)
(I wouldn't miss it for the KT-95!) AA turned to the form. (I ask. Now
what do I do?)
(Recorded: You asked.) The form turned and pointed, (fust go that way
and then turn right. Right, not left.)
(Got it, down that way, turn right!)
(Not left.)
(Right.) AA leaned to BB. (Stick around till I get back, old buddy. Will
I have some stuff to feed you! Real rote!)
(Yeah,) BB grunted sourly. (The cruise group has already left. That
means we’ll have to pull skip all the way home. Just don't
make it forever.)
AA lighted brightly and faded into the haze. BB stirred uncomfortably.
(You can wait here if you wish,) the form offered.
(Thanks, I'd appreciate it.) BB dulled, then in passing, (What's to the
left?)
The form spoke absently. (Oh, left. That's another department. Don't
want to get them mixed up.)
(Oh, yeah.) Then perceiving the form more clearly: (Hey, who are you?)
(Ident Entry Director. ED. fust call me Ed.)
(Ed.) BB opened curiously. (You ever been through this human stuff?)
Ed was silent for a moment, pulling in old rote. (Yeh. Coupla times.)
BB drifted aimlessly about the station. The Entry Director hovered
motionless, inward and closed.
BB ventured, (Busy operation you got here.)
Ed opened slightly. (Yeh.)
(Must be a lot more organization than appears on the surface, huh?)
(Yeh.)
(You must have picked up some pretty strong rote being here.)
(Yeh.)
130 FAR JOURNEYS NEWFOUND FRIEND 131
BB reached out without much result. (Haze is strange stuff. Cuts your
percept back to near nothing.)
(Yeh.)
(Effect of the TSI, huh?)
(Yeh.)
BB rotated slightly, then did a few quick spirals. (We got a game back
home where we do as many as a hundred of these one after the other.
Pretty
neat, huh?)
(Yeh.)
(But you got to keep in practice if you’re going to stay in
the game.)
(Yeh.)
BB did several more tight spirals, then relaxed. (My friend will come
back to the Station when he's through, won't he? Back here?)
(Yeh.)
(Good, I can't miss him.)
(Yeh.)
BB blanked. (I can?)
Ed popped open. (What?)
(My friend has to come back here to the Station, doesn’t he?)
Ed closed. (Hey.)
(I don't want to . . .)
Ed opened, vibrated heavily. (Hasn’t your friend returned?)
(No, not yet. My percept was . . .)
Ed accelerated. (I should have seen he was the type. Come on, kid.)
BB vibrated. (What's up?)
Ed faded. (Your friend's got a problem. Come on.)
He turned and receded rapidly. BB followed, flickering wildly. Ed
turned left and waited for BB to join him. (There. This is our big
department.
No rote. The real thing. Get your own rote.)
BB blanked, flickered, wide open. Before him was the blue-green
planet, indistinct. Around the planet were rings of haze, gigantic thick
rings, of indeterminate number. Demarcation between them was vague as
wisps and tendrils reached from one to the other. Except the ring nearly
touching the planet itself. It appeared isolated. With this exception,
the
others were flowing rapidly through portals in the Entry Station. No,
there
was one more, on the outer edge. It came nowhere near the Station. Very
thin.
BB focused intently. The M Band noise was horrendous, yet not nearly
so bad as it had been down on the planet itself. Moreover, as he singled
out each band, his percept showed that the noise was greatest in the
bands
close to the planet. The farther away from the planet, the less noise.
Very
little was present in the outermost band. Little, but still there. BB
blanked
further. M Band doesn't decline with "distance" or dimension; even the
cruise TSI briefing rote had the whole story. If there was no M Band, no
life. M Band with noise, still primitive, no percept, no communication
worthwhile bothering with. M Band, no noise, great place to visit and
gather rote, locals know where they are and what they are, easy but
limited
communication—but not a place to stay. Nothing. No decline of
intensity,
no mix, noise and M signals. It either was or was not. Must be an
effect of the Intermediate Area.
BB focused tightly on a band in the center, nearly fell backward with
shock, closed quickly and turned in. The band was composed of forms,
living forms! He opened slightly, focused, one band after another. They
were all the same. Thousands—no, millions, maybe billions of
living
forms. BB closed and blanked completely, totally dulled.
(Your friend's in there.) Ed came in both gentle and sad.
BB opened slightly, still dulled. (What?)
(When he hadn't appeared at the Station, that's the only answer.)
BB still blanked. (He's in there?)
(Yep.)
(What is it! There wasn’t anything like that during the TSI
cruise, when
we stopped over . . .)
(You were focused totally on physical matter. Cruise groups pop through
the Intermediate Area, like avoiding a bump in the road.)
BB blanked again. (Road? Bump?)
(Forget it, not important, human terms.)
(But all those living forms . . .)
(Repeaters.)
(Repeat, repeat what?)
(They want to go through another experience as human.)
BB closed tightly. Rote was coming so fast it was almost beyond con132
FAR JOURNEYS NEWFOUND FRIEND 133
trol. Incredible that anyone would want to go the route a second time.
The first looked bad enough. Yet the percept was obvious. Knowing AA, it
was obvious. He opened. The shock wore off.
(Can we find him among all those others?)
Ed smoothed. (Good possibility. Most First-Timers hitting the repeat
route usually end up in the outer band. Can you spot him? I mean, could
you get a percept on him easily?)
BB lighted. (AA? Got more rote on him than anyone in KT-95. No
problem.)
(Then you may well be able to turn him out of it.) Ed swung around.
(We better get over to the processing gate.)
CLICK!
BB scanned intently the multitude of animate forms passing under him.
AA and his impulses. Never did know when to stop if he got interested.
But these thousands upon thousands . . . He turned to Ed. (Must be big
stuff to make all of these want to do it again.)
(We warn them. It's all in the pre-brief rote.)
(Must not be too clear.)
(Here, run it yourself. I'll scan for your friend.) Ed tossed a bulky
rote at
BB. He ran it quickly. Halfway through, there it was: . . . remain fully
established freedom of will and consciousness at the entry point. This
is
guaranteed and is required by the compressed learning system in use. .
. .
A final note of caution: Certain aspects of the human experience may
produce specific and general effects which may be harmful and unless
controlled bring about habituation, with undesirable consequences. Your
imprint affirms your understanding of this section.
BB opened. (That doesn’t seem very clear to me.)
Ed vibrated. (That's as far as we can go. Otherwise it would ruin the
learning process.)
(What aspects, what effects?)
(It would ruin the . . .)
(Come on, Ed, it won't ruin me. I'm not going to be a human. Ill never
touch the stuff.)
Ed dulled, then closed. (Get your own rote.)
BB vibrated. (All right, I will!)
Both remained half closed, focusing on the stream of forms passing
through the portal. Each appeared different from the others, yet
possessed
some human trait, however small. In a few, BB's percept found a bright
and intense radiation that made him confused and uncomfortable. It was
his reaction to one of these that forced him open and smooth. (Ed,
you’re
just doing your job, and I'm pushed about my friend AA.)
Ed opened. (Yeh, I got the percept. Problem is, events like this don't
happen often enough and I lose the rote.)
BB blanked. (Lose the rote! Impossible. Nobody does that.)
Ed indicated the massive bands of living forms. (They did, all of em.)
(Lose what rote?)
(Who they were. They forgot who they were.)
BB blanked and closed. No way anything like that could happen. It was
vital to very existence. No one could be and do if you—how
did Ed put it?
—forgot who you were. Yet the percept from Ed was clear.
(Now, this outer ring,) Ed was continuing. (They are made of three
types.
One is the First-Timer, such as your friend. He just started to forget.
Then
there's the Old-Timers, who mostly remember after going the route, uh,
repeating being human a number of times. These hang around and do what
they can to help. They don't remember quite enough to go home.)
BB lighted with a great percept. (You're an Old-Timer, Ed.)
(Yeh. Anyway, you keep a scan for your friend. I'll run the rest of the
rote
for you, piece by piece.)
BB opened wide, sweeping focus on the stream of living forms. So many
of them. Still, should be no problem finding AA. Wonder how Ed happened
to get assigned to his job. Why him?
(Wasn’t assigned to it. There was a hole where the ED used to
be on my
time around, so I just jumped into it.) Ed was smooth and warming. (Then
there's this third type, the Last-Timers. They make one more recycle,
uh,
one more physical life as a human, and then they’re gone.)
BB turned. (Where do they go?)
Ed rolled. (I dunno. Home, I guess. They never show up back here. And,
oh yeh. There's this other type we call the Seekers. Don't get many of
them,
slippery as eels. Unstable, flick in and out.)
BB blanked. (As what? Slippery?)
134 FAR JOURNEYS NEWFOUND FRIEND 135
(Never mind. Human stuff again.)
(Give me a rote and I'll run it.)
(Not worth it. Now, these Seekers, they’re different Near as
I get it, they
come poking around here and they still got a physical human body over
there, alive and kicking.)
(I didn’t have a percept you can do that. I thought everybody
came back
only after the physical body fell apart, wasn’t operational.)
(That's what I had until I got here as ED. Then I began to spot them.)
BB was lighting strongly, (There he is!)
Ed was gentle, warm. (Go get him, tiger!)
BB blanked. (Tiger?)
(Go on!)
BB moved swiftly into the massive, flowing ring of vibrating forms. The
M Band noise was nowhere near what he had expected, almost within
tolerable levels. As he slipped through the edges of various radiation
groups, he was quick to percept that many if not most had signal
strength
equal to if not greater than his own. But it was different. It was not
just
the noise, it was something different. Nothing like it in KT-95. Also,
the
forms obviously were aware of his passing . . . short flashes of
curiosity,
retracting to let him through, pleasant acknowledgment. Nothing like the
pattern he expected from his earlier percept.
Then he was with AA. (Some adventure, huh?)
AA blanked, then lighted brightly. (BB! What are you doing here!)
(Came to get you, what else?)
(You didn't have to do that.)
(Well, you were supposed to return to the Station. What happened?)
AA flickered. (I was?)
(You sure were.)
AA flickered more deeply. (I don't know. It seemed, uh, easier this
way.)
BB smoothed. (How was it?)
AA lighted. (Astounding! I don't have anything to express it.)
(Start at the beginning.)
AA rolled brightly, and hit BB with a solid rote before he could close.
CLICK!
AA moved among a large mass of beings of all shapes, sizes, and
patterns.
The crowd was so large that he could not easily perceive the other
side, where it ended. None remotely resembled anyone he had known
back home in KT-95. He dulled, disappointed. Were they all waiting to be
human?
(All of 'em.)
AA spun his focus. A short, human-looking form leaned behind him.
(What?)
The form vibrated. (Ident Routine Entry Dispatcher. RED. . . . fust
call me Red.)
(Red?)
(Not to be confused with . . . sorry, wrong department You must have
joined in when I was busy. Need to get a rote on you so I can try to
place
you properly. Roll it)
AA opened and gave him the best rote he knew.
Red lightened. (KT-95, hey? Well, that's a new one for me. Haven't had
a KT-95 since I've been here.)
(I don't believe there ever has been,) AA replied. (No records, only
side
rote which doesn’t mean anything.)
(And you came in on a TSI cruise, and you want to get the feel of it,
huh? M Band noise got to you, did it?)
(Well, no.) AA flickered. (Not exactly, you see, I . . .)
(Not important,) Red cut in. (fust makes it easier to get you
processed, as
a matter of rote. Now, first, which is your preference, male or female?
I can't
guarantee your choice, but I like to match it up with the entry point
when I
can.)
AA blanked.
Red vibrated. (Oh, you don't know the difference. You are out of the
woods.)
AA blanked further.
(That's a human expression which . . . not important. I guess male or
female doesn't make any difference in the long run, especially with
you. So,
any particular entry point desired?)
AA hesitated, then decided. (New York?)
136 FAR JOURNEYS NEWFOUND FRIEND 137
(That's all? Just New York?)
AA lighted.
(New York it is, any available entry point. Either sex. Well, AA, that
should make it fairly rapid for you. Of course, it would be immediate
if you
select Bombay, Calcutta, or a dozen or so other points. Lot of action
there.)
AA dimmed and dulled. (New York. At least I have rote. I've been there.)
Red turned in and closed. (Yeah, sure. Sure, you do.) Then he lighted
briskly. (Take this pre-brief rote and focus through it all the way.
You'll
need to imprint your agreement and acceptance when you pass through the
entry point. Ready?)
Red lobbed the rote and AA fielded it easily. AA probed the outer
edges, then opened. (Hey, this is complicated! You mean I have to sort
through all this stuff?)
Red was closed. (Yep.)
(Why can't I simply go and be human? Why do I need all of this?)
Red went auto-rote. (When in Rome . . .)
(I'm not going to Rome, I'm going to New York.)
Red smoothed. (Oh, uh, yes, well, it applies anywhere. It's the rules,
kid.
I don't make them. Now find yourself a quiet spot and run through it.
I'll
have you a general point, New York, in no time at all.)
AA blanked. (No time at all! I thought time was . . .)
(fust run the rote, kid, run the rote.) Red unfocused and was gone.
AA leaned back and let the rote open:
Agreement and Understanding.
Human sojourn only. First Entry
Status (FES).
• Organized as a school for compressed learning. Successful
graduates
achieve tangent rating.
• For duration of human sojourn, firm agreement that
time-space exists,
has reality. Agreement of reality of particular entry point and its
environs
(matter, planet Earth, sun, solar system, galaxy, physical universe),
of time
indicated at entry point, of physical animate form designated as well as
those of others, of past events recorded as human history, of complete
biostructure as encountered.
• In order for learning system to function at maximum
efficiency, temporary
blanking of pre-entry activity is essential. Agreement to perform such
blanking is hereby authorized.
• Anything to the contrary contained herein notwithstanding,
all FES
remain fully established in freedom of will and consciousness at the
entry
point. This is guaranteed and is required by the compressed learning sys
tem in use.
• A final note of caution: Certain aspects of the human
experience may
produce specific and general effects which may be harmful and un . . .
AA released the rote. Scare tactics. Need them to hold back the mobs
that would swamp the place with applications. Well, it won't work this
time. Can't get rid of old AA that easily.
He refocused on a nearby form. (How's it going?)
The form opened, then closed. (Who wants to know?)
(Ident AA from KT-95.) AA reached out, then withdrew quickly.
(Where you from?)
(You don't want to know.)
(Sure, I do. Your first time, too, I guess. How, I mean what made up
your
mind to give it a try?)
The form dulled. (I didn't.)
AA blanked. (Sure, you did.)
(You don't understand. Here.) The form rolled a rote to AA, who picked
it up gingerly.
The first layer was enough. Assigned HSTI-FES for retraining, don't
come back until you're better. Details enclosed in . . . The rote grew
too
hot to handle. AA hurriedly rolled it back to the form, and the form
reluctantly retrieved it. AA unfocused and turned away.
(A big event, isn’t it!) A tall thin form emerged from the
haze.
AA opened uncertainly. (Yes, it is.)
(After all the planning and preparation, I'm finally going to do it.
Finally!)
AA blanked. (Do what?)
(Conduct my experiment!) The form lighted strongly. (I've studied every
aspect of the human system. Incredible how much effort it took. Only
state
of consciousness I can test it in. It could change everything!)
(Really!) AA focused more carefully. (What does it do?)
138 FAR JOURNEYS NEWFOUND FRIEND 139
The form closed. (Sorry, might spoil the experiment if you had rote.
Maybe we'll meet as humans. See you on earth!)
The form faded, and as AA turned, he became aware of a tiny form
huddled to one side. He focused. (Hi.)
The little one was wide open. (Hi.)
(Going to make the big leap, huh?)
(Yes . . . I hope so.)
AA blanked. (You hope so! Don't you know?)
The tiny form vibrated. (I mean, it came so quickly, it was such a
surprise. I'm still not used to it. It's really going to happen, after
I tried so
long.)
(You mean they wouldn’t accept you, wouldn’t let
you in before this?)
(I guess not. I wanted to, but it never happened . . . before now.)
AA opened more. (I thought anyone could just walk up and get in, if
there were entry points available.)
(Oh, no. You have to qualify.)
AA stored and scanned. (Ident?)
The form flickered. (What?)
(Ident.)
(I don't know what you mean.)
AA blanked heavily, then focused softly. (If you’ll run me
your rote, I'll try
to help. I understand, the excitement and all the anticipation.)
The form flickered more. (What's a rote?)
(Rote is information you have that . . .) AA cut off, then reset. (Where
did you come from?)
The form lighted. (Over there. It was easy.)
AA followed the focus. (You mean the planet where humans are?)
(Yes, yes.)
AA vibrated. (Then it's not your first time. You've been human? There
must be some mix-up!)
(No, no, there isn 't.) The form grew brighter. (I've never been a
human,
but I've studied them a long time. I've lived with them, they've fed and
loved me . . . and now I . . . I'm going to be a human. They tell me
I've
earned, I mean learned it. And I'm going to be a good one. I know it!)
AA gave warm support and swung away, then unfocused. He turned in
deeply for some obscure rote that would explain it. Nothing.
The haze was gathering into clusters, some large, some small. Each had
wispy spirals of rote that brushed through AA as he wandered among the
clusters. In KT-95, that was usually a sign of poor discipline or at
least
leaky valves. Here, it didn't seem to matter. Further, there didn't
appear
to be any lessening of the crowd. If anything, there were more. This
Intermediate Area was deceptive, AA decided. Has a tendency to distort.
What he pulled rote as hundreds must be thousands—all jammed
into the
Entry Station. And that little mixed-up one. Couldn't rote anything, not
even where she really came from. She? What's she?
Suddenly, an unusually large spiral reached out from a cluster and
yanked AA inward. (I need your help, I need your help!)
AA disengaged just as he was about to fall into the opening cluster.
(What's the problem?)
The form swept aside the last vestiges of haze. (What are your plans
after you enter?)
AA opened slightly. (Why, uh . . . to experience being human.)
The form vibrated. (No more than that?)
AA rolled. (I'm sure that'll be enough for me.)
(Do you know what they're going through over there?)
(Well, I . . .)
(Untold suffering. Millions upon millions of them, lying and deceiving
one another, violating every known law, including the ones they thought
up
themselves, illusion upon illusion, digging deeper and deeper patterns
. . .
It's horrible.)
AA began closing. (I'm sure it's not as bad as you . . .)
The form vibrated more heavily. (It's worse. I've been studying and
observing them for centuries. Worse!)
AA blanked. (Centuries?)
(Now it's getting to a crisis situation, and somebody has to do
something
and nobody is, so I'm going to!)
AA smoothed. (Do what?)
(I'm going in there and change it all. I need your help to do it. I need
yours and everyone else's I can get. Here, here's what we’re
going to do.)
The form threw a heavy rote at AA, who held on to it with some
difficulty. The first layers not only shocked but astounded him. How
could
140 FAR JOURNEYS NEWFOUND FRIEND 141
rote ever get so tangled and distorted? He turned in and closed. How to
release gracefully? The solution came easily.
He tossed the rote back to the heavily vibrating form. (Sorry, I can't
help you. I would like to, but I can 't.)
The form vibrated. (You can't! Why not?)
AA smoothed even further. (Didn’t you go through your
pre-hriefing?)
(Yes, of course I did.)
(The part about blanking all previous rote? If they do that, I won't
have a
rote of meeting you, anything about what happened here.)
The form dulled, then closed. The haze settled again in a cluster around
him. AA unfocused and continued his float among the clusters. He became
cautious and avoided all the larger exuding rote tendrils. The others
he moved through, picking up fragments of events, patterns, states of
awareness totally inconsistent with those of home, KT-95.
Suddenly, a quick sharp percept drove into him. (Ident AA! Ident AA!
Ready for you at entry portal!)
AA spun quickly, focused on the signal, following it through the haze
and clusters. Looming through the haze was a large vertical slot,
vibrating
with a vivid energy AA had never before perceived. Red and Ed were
waiting beside it.
Red vibrated. (All set and ready, ident AA.)
AA flickered. (What do I do?)
Ed leaned in. (Imprint here, acceptance and agreement terms contained
in pre-briefing.)
Two carefully controlled spirals emanated from Ed. AA sent his own
spiral in between them, then activated. Ed pulled back the spirals and
leaned back.
AA vibrated very highly. (What do I do now!)
Red hit it hard and high. (Jump! Jump through the slot!)
AA jumped.
CLICK!
Intense contraction, constricting . . . overwhelming signal input of
unknown types . . . coming from parts of him he never knew existed
. . . trapped, can't get out of here . . . nothing works . . . can't get
anything to work right . . . not what I expected . . . it hurts . . .
what's hurt? . . . what who expected? . . . turn down the signals, turn
them down, they're tearing me up . . . too many of them, too strong
. . . help, somebody help me! . . . trapped . . . please, please,
somebody
help me, get me out of this thing . . . this is the last of AA,
screaming,
screaming . . .
A new baby cried lustily in the bedroom of a New York tenement. Both
mother and midwife grinned happily, sweat running down their faces.
CLICK!
BB flickered. (Is that all?)
AA lighted. (That's only the beginning.)
BB turned in. (Some beginning. You weren’t very happy.)
(Oh, after a bit I learned, did I learn! There's so much I can't get it
all
into one rote . . . What's wrong?)
(I'm getting a wild percept.)
AA blanked. (From where?)
BB smoothed. (Never mind, let's get on home. We're going to have to
pull at least four skips to get back to KT-95 on our own. So . . .)
(Home! I can't go back yet.) AA vibrated rapidly.
(Sure, you can.)
(No!)
(Now, come on, AA . . .)
(I had only forty-five years. Then I got sick. I didn't get to finish!)
BB smoothed. (Whatever forty-five years is, that's enough. Come on.)
(I can't!) AA flickered violently. (I have only half the experience!)
BB blanked. (Half?)
(I was a male this last time! Now I'm going to be female!)
BB blanked completely. (Male? Female?)
(That's right, old buddy, and they're as different as, as . . . That's
what
I'm going to find out.)
BB hardened. (You're in trouble.)
(Trouble? What trouble?)
(You got the pre-brief rote.)
AA flickered. (Of course I got it.)
142 FAR JOURNEYS NEWFOUND FRIEND 143
(Then you know what's happening.)
AA blanked. (No, what?)
BB smoothed. (AA, you’re getting hooked, you’re . .
.)
The huge portal loomed ahead, a myriad of vibrations. AA was fading
into the massive portal along with the others.
BB vibrated as strongly as he could. (AA, no . . . wait!)
With a strange wave, AA disappeared. BB dulled and closed, and
moved away from the stream.
(Sorry, kid.) Ed came in gently. (I didn’t think you had a
chance of a
snowball in hell, but I had to let you try.)
BB dulled. (What happens now?)
(If he/she follows the pattern, he/she will get more and more and more
involved in the human experience, dropping down a ring each time until
he/she is at the bottom.)
BB flickered, still dulled. (Then what?)
Ed opened wide, carefully. (They stay at the bottom and don't come
back, or they begin to work their way back up. Most of 'em stay at the
bottom.)
BB dulled.
(Go on home, kid. Back to KT-9S.)
BB dulled and closed completely.
He slowly drifted out of the Station, flickering dimly. The haze was
less,
filled with occasional clean signals which did not have his ident; thus
they
did not attract or penetrate and so were ignored.
Then a faint percept did penetrate. BB popped open. A form was
moving past him. He vibrated, stretched.
(AA! You did it! You broke out. How . . .)
The form stopped, motionless. BB pulled back quickly. It was not AA.
CLICK!
BB opened wide. (I got my idents crossed. That's why I hooked you.) I
folded the rote back in slowly. (You have a problem, all right.) Then
there was a strong signal to return to the physical. I had a problem,
too. I had the percept of BB in total blank and I must have receded
almost instantaneously. I picked up the second, went back to physical,
took a deep breath, and looked for the problem. The dog was barking
again to go outdoors.
RESCUE MISSION 145
11.
Rescue Mission
Time: 3:55 A.M. . . . full physical wakefulness, usual conditions plus
the
not so usual recognition of INSPEC homing signal presence in this
consciousness
. . . followed normal rollout . . . signal was strong . . .
moved upward and out, through rings, past Intermediate
Area—stopped.
Was stopped. Feeling of tiredness, hadn't been aware of it before. No
more homing signal, I was there. So were THEY. Great sense of warmth,
companionship, more.
(Mister Monroe.)
When it came in that way, I was never sure it meant work or play, if I
could possibly tell the difference—or something else. It was
something
else.
(Some alignment and balance are needed.)
I opened wide.
CLICK!
A huge white dog three times the size of our beloved
Steamboat—what
a name for such a nice little dog—has him by the neck, the
massive jaws
firmly shaking Steamboat back and forth in quick jerks, Steamboat's body
already swinging limply.
(No, no!) I can't let it happen! Is it really Steamboat? It is! He's
dead,
Steamboat's dead! I'll kill that big son of a bitch, he'll never . . .
CLICK!
RESET.
A huge white dog three times the size of Steamboat has him by the
neck in massive jaws that are swinging Steamboat from side to side,
Steamboat hanging limply.
(Steamboat's dead! Dead! What a tragedy! I'll miss him, I'll miss him.
Let go, big dog, so I can take what's left and . . .)
CLICK!
RESET.
A big white dog much larger than Steamboat has him by the neck and
is swinging Steamboat back and forth, Steamboat hanging relaxed, eyes
closed.
(Well, little fellow, if that's the way it is, thanks for staying
around as
long as you did. We had fun together. You gave me a lot of rote that
always
will be a part of me . . .)
Still in the jaws of the big white dog, Steamboat raises his head
slightly,
opens one eye, winks at me, and grins.
CLICK!
I was calm and relaxed. The tiredness was gone. More than that. My
energy was strong and clear. (Thank you.)
(Happy to be of service.)
I rolled. (Dogs will bark.)
(Now you can move to your friend from the other system. He is lost. He
will need your help.)
I flickered. (I'm not sure I can help him.)
(We will be with you. It is important that you help him.)
I blanked. (Important?)
(Important to you. We interrupted your signal so that you would perceive
him. As you put it—time will tell.)
I smoothed. (Shall I make him aware of you?)
(Not yet. Take this—how do you say it?—rote with
you and perhaps he
can use it. We call it the BHP-1.)
I opened wide. (Sure.)
The rote came to me and I tucked it away. I turned and focused ident
BB KT-95. There was some motion and there he was, still in the haze.
And flickering.
146 FAR JOURNEYS RESCUE MISSION 147
BB vibrated. (What happened! You faded out, then back. Somebody pull
a skip on you?)
I blanked. (Pull a skip? What's that?)
(Well, when we want to move from one pattern to another, we, uh, you
know, pull a skip. If you catch somebody wide open, and you get in just
right, you can pull their skip and they’re off somewhere
before they get a
percept.)
I flickered. (Why would you want to do that?)
BB rolled. (It's a game, fun!)
I rolled with him. (At least you're open now.)
(So somebody did pull a skip on you!)
I smoothed. (No, not exactly.)
(Even a skip leaves a trace. No one I ever met could do what you just
did.
Neat. What was it?)
I flickered. (Well, I, uh, I had to go take care of something.)
BB blanked. (Take care of what?)
I smoothed. (My body.)
(What body?)
I rolled. (My physical body, of course. My physical human body. I still
got one and it still works.)
BB closed tightly, then opened slowly. (How, I mean, why, uh, what
(I don't know. It simply happened. I'm trying to find out the why.) BB
turned inward, then opened. (You’re one of those slippery
eels!) I
blanked, turned in. Part of Ed's rote came up. I rolled strongly. (I
guess that's as good a percept as any.)
BB rolled, then hardened. (What about AA? Any more I can do?)
(We'll try. You need a better percept of what's taking place.)
BB turned inward. (I don't want any real rote of the stuff. I sure don't
want to get addicted.)
I smoothed. (This rote won't do that. As a matter of fact, it'll begin
an
inoculation process.)
BB blanked. (Inoculation . . .)
(You can close better. I'll push it slowly. Catch the edge. If you
don't like
it, don't take it in.)
BB opened slowly. I eased the BHP-1 rote THEY gave me at him and it
spun slowly as he cautiously touched it. There was a long moment when
everything stopped, no movement, no response. Then there was a click
and the entire rote slipped into him.
BB turned inward and closed. I waited patiently. We were drifting
slowly out where the haze was thinner. I had only two idents at this
point.
I either go back to where THEY were or back to the physical. I had
nothing
on AA, only part of BB's rote, which wasn't enough. It had to come from
BB. I couldn't find AA for him.
BB turned inward, opened. (It's all new to me. Real rote, huh?)
(Yep.)
(And that's what AA got himself into?)
(Yep.)
BB blanked. (This isn't your rote. Where'd you get it?)
I smoothed. (Coupla friends of mine. Most of the rote was new to me,
too. At least I didn’t have a percept like that.)
BB hardened. (Well now, I got a hook on what '$ going on. A little
complicated, but once AA has a1 percept of this quality,
he’ll jump right out
of the mess.)
I flickered. (Uh . . . there's a little more to it, you see.)
(What do we do next?)
(I guess catch your friend when he comes out again. If you can find
him.)
BB smoothed. (I could find AA inside a black hole. Are you coming?)
BB had the percept that I would follow and he was right. He dove into
the haze and I was behind him, homing on his ident. We did a complete
run through the ring where he had found AA previously. Not a flick. I
was
fairly sure that would be the case, which was bad news. Bad news for BB.
There was always a chance that if AA was in the outer ring BB might
convince him to pull out and let go. Bad news for AA? No one could make
that percept, not even AA at this point.
In my few stopovers in the outer ring, it had always been utterly
fascinating—
the mix. Particularly the Last-Timers, those who knowingly were
about to make their final recycle. They gave off a radiation that was
unforgettable—tremendous vital power that seemed totally
under control.
Within that strength were all of the values and ideals that humans hold
important—not in time-space context, not in external control
systems that
demanded performance in a specific manner, but something entirely
148 FAR JOURNEYS RESCUE MISSION 149
apart, something learned from being human. Most important, all under
control, all a cooperating, melding part of the whole. They were
completely
open. You could get a percept easily of the crucible of human
experience that formulated such greatness—if you could handle
it. I tried
once and it was too much. I returned to the physical and was wistful for
days thereafter. The key was that they got that way from being human.
They were not that way at First Entry.
But now it was different. Their radiation had a familiar resonance, and
I
wondered why this was so. In the last time around, they evidently close
it
all down. Part of the vitality seeps through; it really all can't be
closed off.
Yet they don't select history-making roles in that final
run—they've probably
performed such previously. They are inconspicuous, the mail clerk, the
plain dirt farmer, the sailor, the bookkeeper, not gathered as a group,
but
quietly spotted here and there in both time and place.
If you ask their destination upon completion, most simply respond with
a gentle warmth: Home. The percept comes out that way, but there's an
overtone, a flavor, a nuance that is only slightly familiar.
Yes, BB, there is much beyond the cold data. You pay the price and you
get what you pay for. One way or another. How do you tell a fish what
it's
like on dry land? You don't try.
(Hey, I thought you were with me,) BB cut in.
I opened. (I am, I am.)
(He's not in this mob. Now what?)
I smoothed. (Down another ring.)
I turned, with BB close to me, and we moved quickly into the lower
haze. It had a different texture. Actually, from this point, it was
difficult to
determine where one ring began and the other ended. A part of it was
familiar to me. I had attended class here for a while.
I hadn't been closed enough. (What kind of class?) BB cut in.
(Where you learn how to help those who are still in a physical body.)
BB rolled. (AA wouldn't be here. Nobody could teach him anything!)
I turned inward. (If you say so.)
BB darted outward and down and I joined his descent. . . . We began
to enter the familiar cleared areas in the haze. Houses, parks, fields
of
growing plants, woods, forests, large buildings, rows of churches, it
went
on endlessly. Humanoid forms were busily occupying themselves in
numerous
earth-type activities.
BB flickered. (Haze is sure thick. What are they doing?)
I smoothed. (What they want to do.)
(Just milling around like that?)
(Some are fixing up their houses. Some are working. Let's see. Others
are
playing golf. There is a poker game going on in that building over there
. . .)
BB cut in. (What building over where? I don't get a percept on
anything!)
I flickered. (No building?)
(Nope.)
(No houses, streets, trees, fields . . .)
(fust human-type forms moving around. And a lot of haze.)
I blanked and turned inward. The constructs—all of them were
not
physical matter, so BB ought to be able to get percept of them in some
manner. The temporaries knew they were nonphysical; they built all of
this to be in familiar surroundings while they thought over and prepared
for their next human cycle, built it out of . . . I lighted. BB had no
ident
on such, thus he couldn't pull a percept. It was strictly humans only.
I smoothed. (I don't think your friend is here. Let's move on.)
BB flickered. (Down?)
(Yep.)
I swung over and did a flamboyant half-roll and dove through the border
haze. You could spend thousands of years in the rings and never
explore all aspects of them. Some parts are great, some not so great. I
was
told that whatever man can think of is somewhere in these rings; thus
more is being added constantly as man thinks more. Also I was told some
humans do spend thousands of years here, rotating in and out of physical
earth life. Could be exciting stuff if you planned and thought it out
carefully.
But most of them . . .
(I got him, got him!) BB almost blew me away, he was vibrating so hard.
(Where?)
BB was already spinning away and I was following closely. Curious to
finally meet the notorious AA . . . then I nearly rammed BB, he pulled
up so suddenly.
150 FAR JOURNEYS RESCUE MISSION 151
BB flickered. (It's AA, but . . . there's something wrong.)
I scanned to get a percept on his focus. There was a form, small, low
energy base, female, old woman, no, not so old, just . . .
BB vibrated and moved in. (AA! Hey, old boy, it's me!)
The form flickered, half open. (Leave me alone.)
BB vibrated. (It's me! BB!)
The form opened more. (What?)
BB reached out. (BB, that's who, old buddy, come to take you back!)
The form opened wider, vibrated. (BB! Where did you come from!)
BB smoothed. (Never mind, I'm going to take you back.)
AA flickered. (Back? Back where?)
(Back where you belong.)
AA vibrated. (Belong? I belong here! BB, I tell you, I'll never be a
female
again! I was all day hoeing in the fields, got up in that cold stone
hut while
it was still dark, made the cooking fire, then ground the grain into
meal,
then cooked food for the children, then he got up and I made his food,
then
the tax collector came and took three pigs, my three best, then my
youngest
baby died and I had to bury her longside the other eight, but I kept
six of
the fourteen alive till the plague got me, and all the time he just was
lying
around or hunting, or taking a club to me, then him and those other men
came in sousing drunk on wine and laid it to me, all of them. That
plague
was God's will. It took me away from all of that!)
BB blanked totally, flickering. I started to move in, and suddenly there
was a barrier, a force pushing me back. I kept trying, but it wouldn't
let
me get close to AA. I had never felt anything like it. I finally stayed
away.
BB opened carefully. (AA, I came to help . . .)
(I don't need help,) AA cut in. (I know what I'm going to do. I'm going
back and I'm going to be a warrior, a big powerful man, and I'm going to
spread my seed from one corner of England to another. Old King Henry
won't have nuthin' on me, he won't!)
(AA!) BB vibrated heavily.
AA blanked, then flickered. (What? Oh, it's you, BB. What do you
want?)
BB smoothed carefully. (Let's go home.)
AA flickered. (Home?)
(Back to KT-95. How about it?)
AA still flickered. (KT-95? K-T-9-5. Yeah . . . yeah! What about it,
BB?)
BB smoothed softly. (We need to leave and go back now. Be with our
old friends and buddies, give them some new games, give the big rote you
got here, big stuff in KT-95. Let's go.)
AA flickered. (Well, BB, you just might . . . you just might . . . No! I
can't, I haven't finished here! I'm going to be a big strong warrior.
Then I
can kill men, kill, lie around, women will get food for me this time,
hunt,
souse when I want, no babies to carry around . . .)
BB reached for him, but he faded quickly into the haze. BB started to
follow, but I got in his way, and I stayed motionless as he slowly
closed
and dulled. Various forms moved past us, only one or two showing any
curiosity. What small percept I had of AA indicated this would happen;
he would drop faster than the typical First Entry. BB would have called
it
wild rote for sure if I had handed it to him before the fact.
(You're leaking.) BB opened slightly. (You can't be closed and open at
the same time. I got that percept as clear as if you 'd thrown it at
me.)
I rolled. (I'm still learning.)
(I guess you’re right,) BB went on. (It would have been pure
raggededged
wild rote to me. Smooth, slick handle—anything, AA hitting a
high
one like that! What got into him?)
(Being a female, a woman.) I plied carefully. (Must have lived it three,
four hundred years back, uh, past, uh, before now.)
BB blanked. Serial time was too much for him. I had a percept that was
new to me, too. I had always assumed repeaters lived sequential lives
relative to time. Either this is not the case or AA is the rare
exception.
BB opened slightly. (That's the way it is being female?)
I flickered. (Well, uh . . . that's the way most females lived back
then.
It's different now . . . I mean, different for some of them.)
(And how many of you humans are female?)
I flickered again. (About half, I guess. Ought to be half.)
BB vibrated. (Why would anybody want to be a woman!)
I smoothed. (There are compensations, balances. Some males suspect
women secretly rule the earth.)
BB focused intently. (Do they?)
152
I turned inward, then rolled. (I'm male at this point, and I suspect
they do.)
BB turned inward and closed. I was indeed learning from him in an
inverted form. Evidently his KT-95 was nothing remotely like being
physical and human. Explaining the process even with a cloud of rotes
seemed too big to me. Still, there was a sense of warmth, friendliness,
even
familiarity with BB that didn't fit. I liked him. Nice fellow. Very
human in his responses. Maybe the energy base is common through all
systems, physical or otherwise. Only the experience, the rote is
different.
BB popped open. (So what about AA?)
(We can try again.)
(But you’re not on it.)
I blanked. (On it?)
(Your percept has it as wasted effort.)
I lighted. (I leaked again?)
BB rolled. (A little.)
(AA is in a pattern. I'm not very smart, hut my percept is, you can't
change it but you have to try.)
BB smoothed. (Once more, only once more.)
(Where have I heard that before!)
(I owe it to him, is that the way you put it?)
I plied. (One more. But it gets kind of rough from here on.)
152
I turned and gathered up courage, closed tightly. The haze ahead was
much thicker, dull gray, with only occasional flares of light moving
through it.
I understood
the lights; they were those from the Outer Rings coming in, trying to
help or meeting loved ones at their physical
death. I had tried this several times, although I don't seem
particularly suited
for that kind of action. Usually, I pass through these Rings as rapidly
and unobtrusively as possible. We entered slowly. Almost immediately, I
began to feel uncomfortable
and my percept indicated BB was more so. Any prospect of locating AA
was totally up to him. I threaded our way among the countless forms
hanging motionless. Actually, their movement was so slow as to be
almost imperceptible. These were the ones who had just been released
from their physical body via death and vaguely knew they had but didn't
have the Rote to do much, if anything, about it. Occasionally as we
passed, one would lean in our direction, which I had learned indicated
the beginning of remembering—or the last vestiges of the forgetting
process. My usual reaction was: Had I been like that? Had I ever been
so unaware? It
depressed me to accept the fact that I probably was. I don't remember
or I don't want to.
153
For the first time, I realized the M
Band noise was lower in this muck. Almost immediately came the percept,
naturally: stupid. Nobody is doing much thinking at all. They're in a
state of shock from dying, having nothing to hang on to, so scared they
can't handle it, so they put their heads in the sand and try to hide.
The typical wave of compassion went through me, and I cut it off.
Others are working on the effect, this
end of the blockage. I'm supposed to be with those who try to help cut
back the cause. I don't know which is more difficult.
(He's not here.) BB came in grimly. He was barely open. I turned inward.
I had long ago defused the rote of my painful early climb—no, blundering is more apt—through these close-in patterns. My
subsequent training experience was minimal at the most. But
I knew the next Ring inward. It wasn't nice. Beyond that was physical
life. The two were tightly interwoven, the thick ring just slightly out
of phase with
physical matter. It was the interface between one reality system and
another.
Even from this perspective, it was difficult for a novice to
distinguish
instantly the differences in the two. But I could. That was the
problem. The inhabitants of this ring couldn't. They didn't or couldn't
or wouldn't realize they were no longer physical.
They were physically dead, no more physical body. Thus they kept trying
to be physical, to do and be what they had been, to continue physical
one way or another. Bewildered, some spent all of their activity in
attempting
to communicate with friends and loved ones still in bodies or with
anyone else who might come along, all to no avail. Others were held
attracted
to physical sites in which they had instilled great meaning or
importance during their previous human lifetime. All had long forgotten
or blocked deeply the technique that once was so basic: the M Band.
Still others interpreted their change in status as simply a bad dream
or nightmare, and were waiting and hoping to wake up soon. I moved in
cautiously, with BB tight behind me. He was almost completely closed,
just scanning for ident AA, no more. I don't blame him.
154
I
would have turned and spun away fast if it had been my first run
through the place. The M-Band Noise was thunderous, a cacophony of
fear, anger, and about every other human emotion, every desire, every
need connected with human physical existence. All open, naked,
uncovered, up front.
(Now in 2011 and 2012 we hear
more and more the sounds and emotions of the M-Band Noise, because we
are coming closer and closer to it! The Vibration of the Planet is
getting faster and faster, we are getting higher and higher and we need
to get through that first Astral Layer of 4th Level higher, as fast as
we can! There are some videos on Youtube showing the Sounds of this
Astral Layer! LM).
Жуткие звуки над планетой - 2011
http://earth-chronicles.ru/news/2011-12-27
"В последнее время жители разных
уголков планеты Земля вздрагивают, услышав странный и жутковатый шум.
Он идет будто бы из глубин самой планеты. Где-то он походит на скрип
металлических пластин, где-то на рев реактивного двигателя, а где-то --
на стук от товарного поезда. По одной из версий, нарастающий гул внутри
планеты может служить косвенным сигналом о скорой смене магнитных
полюсов. Как считает академик, член Международной Академии глубинных
геологических и тектонических проблем, профессор Мартин Стэнвилл, при
возможном сценарии смены геомагнитных полюсов Земли странные звуки
могли бы быть возможны. «Никто не знает, какими фактическими приметами
может сопровождаться настолько глобальный катаклизм», - говорит
Стэнвилл, - «пока что мы изучаем только общую модель смены полюсов и по
ней смещение происходит почти мгновенно». Между тем, поясняет эксперт,
«мгновенно» - это с теоретической точки зрения. То, что природа как-то
заранее отреагирует на готовящиеся события, тоже вполне вероятно."
As we entered more deeply, I kept expecting BB to signal me, but he
didn't. Physical Earth and those aboard for the ride were intermixed
now as I speeded up the search, moving faster and faster. But you could
tell the difference. Those still physical seemed less distinct, not
quite but
almost transparent. Suddenly, I got a pull from BB and stopped
immediately.
(I got him!) BB vibrated strongly. (Not much, all covered over, but it's him!)
I flickered. (Where?)
BB leaned. (That way!)
I turned inward. That way, that way, that way . . . was out of time,
no, another time. Moving to another time ident was not exactly
something I performed often, not willfully. Then I had the percept from
our last contact with AA. It was a different time frame, too. Get lost,
left brain. Then, very clearly, there was that soft vibration in me.
(It is
important for you to go. He will help.)
I lighted brightly.
CLICK!
BB vibrated. (I thought you couldn’t pull a skip!)
I flickered. (Well, I . . .)
(And both of us in the same pull!) BB rolled. (You don't accept your own strength.)
I smoothed. (That's a skip?)
(Just like we do it in KT-95.) Then BB cut off as he scanned the action
below us.
We were hovering over a rugged countryside, rocks, sand, very little
vegetation. Sunlit cloudless sky overhead. Directly below us was a dusty
road. Marching along the road three abreast was a column of men, eighty
or ninety in number. Each was dressed in some kind of knee-length coat,
no sleeves, wide leather belt just above the hips, heavy vest over the
chest.
A short double-edged sword hung through a loop in the belt. Metal plates
were strapped to the arms. A round, pointed shield was in each left
hand,
a long wooden spear in the right. They were marching very rapidly. This
was out of the ring. This was real physical life rote.
The M Band noise was much less. I opened more. (You ident your
friend?)
BB flickered. (It's very solid, but . . . that's him! There's the human
out in front alone, then AA is the one just behind him . . . but he's
different. So much other rote on top of him. AA is weak. Can't get any
strong percept. The other stuff is too strong. What's going on!)
I smoothed. (He's still in a physical body at this point. He's a
warrior.)
BB blanked. (What's a warrior?) (He kills other humans.)
I turned away from a totally blanked BB, reached out, and focused for a
percept on AA. Almost immediately, I hit a wall of resistance that
pushed
me back violently. Try as I might, I couldn't force through it. It was
the
same as I encountered before when I reached for AA.
The column of troops moved along the road and deep into a ravine, and
I saw the enemy troops hidden above on each side of the ravine. A great
sense of knowing came through me, and I reached out frantically to the
warrior AA, but the barrier threw me back. I knew what was going to
happen and it did. When AA's column was deep in the ravine, the hidden
soldiers stood and unfolded the ambush, and a shower of spears rained
down. AA was one of the first to fall. He writhed in the dusty road,
face
down, trying to get up to join the battle, but the spear in his back had
driven through him and into the road, pinning him down. Blood poured
into the dust, and after a moment his body relaxed and went completely
limp.
I vibrated strongly at BB. (Get down there, get to him. I can % so
you’ve
got to! Bring him back up here.)
BB moved quickly, and I focused as he went down to the battle scene. I
give him credit, all the action and killing didn't flicker him in the
least. He
tugged a struggling AA out of the warrior body, and brought him up
toward me. As he did, I was astounded. As he came closer with AA, a
barrier kept pushing me back. Finally I signaled BB to stay where he
was.
AA, still in the shape of the warrior, struggled and vibrated heavily.
(Gotta
kill the enemy. Kill them, kill them. Gotta get up and kill them . . .
156 FAR JOURNEYS
Where's my spear, my shield? Gotta get up and kill them. I'm missing all
the battle. Leggo of me. You're makin me miss the fightin, it'll be all
over
and I'll have missed out . . . Gimme my spear. Where is it? . . . Gotta
go and fight, go and fight and kill!)
BB vibrated. (He doesn’t know me! I can't hold him much
longer!)
I flickered. (Let him go.)
BB blanked. (What?)
I smoothed. (Let him go. There's nothing you can do for him at this
point.)
BB released the struggling form, and the AA warrior slipped quickly
down into the battle, trying fruitlessly to pick up a shield and spear
and
join the battle. Unable to do so, he stared at his hands, bewildered,
then
began to beat at the enemy troops with his fists, which passed through
them as if they didn't exist. But he kept on trying.
I turn to BB. He was dulled and completely closed. (Come on, let's go
back.)
BB opened slightly. (Back where?)
CLICK!
We were in the Intermediate Area near the Station. BB was dull,
motionless,
half closed.
I lighted. (How did you like that skip! Right on target!)
BB opened slightly. (Yeah, fine.)
I suddenly became uncomfortable. There was something I had forgotten.
It was important. I became more uncomfortable. Something demanded
me, my attention. There was an urgency. Yes! My body! Got to
get back.
I vibrated. (Gotta leave! I'll be back!)
BB opened wide. (Hey!)
He faded to a pinpoint, then out as I dropped away quickly. I barely
noticed passing through the rings . . . then there was my second in
orbit
around the physical . . . I slipped in easily and slid for the
physical, and
in. I sat up, feeling tired, unusual. The problem that called me back
was
strongly evident. My body was too cold. The blanket had slipped off.
12. Hearsay
Evidence
Time: Indeterminate, night . . . Went through usual unhook pattern, no
signal present . . . with many options open . . . decided to return to
BB on my own if I could . . . ident BB KT-95 . . . then ran stretch-out
method . . . through the rings without incident, then to edge of thin
haze of Intermediate Area . . . went motionless to get percept of BB
close in, as he didn't seem evident . . . percept brought surprise . . .
he was directly under me. Closed and dulled so tightly, no wonder he was
hard to find.
I opened and vibrated. (Hey, BB, I'm back.)
BB opened slightly, then lighted. (Well! I had about given up on you.
Had you stuck in your human body.)
I rolled slightly. (Sometimes I am.)
There was no percept from him regarding AA, and I wasn't going to
bring up the subject if he didn't. It was a tender rote at this point
and I
knew I didn't have the answer he wanted. If there was one at all. Just
to
keep the action going, I stretched, did about three snap rolls, and
returned
with a flourish.
BB plied. (What was that?)
(Just getting some exercise.)
BB opened. (We got a game back in KT-95 where we use that kind of
stuff. Want to try it?)
I lighted. (Sure!)
BB rolled slightly. (You just try to do what I do. That's all there is
to it.)
He turned, spun off, and I stretched behind him. Focused tightly on his
ident. It was like holding on to a greased pig on a sheet of ice, only
the ice
was three-dimensional—no, worse than that, it had many
dimensions. It
was whirling, stopping, starting, moving slow then fast, passing through
strange flashes of percepts, into a brilliant sun and out the other
side,
dodging around clusters of forms who seemed startled at their percept of
158 FAR JOURNEYS HEARSAY EVIDENCE 159
us. All the time I hung on to BB's ident much as the last skater in a
crackthe-
whip, in and out of clouds, bands of energy that were like gusts of hot
and cold air, electrical shocks, straight through the walls of a
magnificently
spired city. I was afraid I couldn't hang on to his ident much longer,
afraid
if I let go I'd be thoroughly lost. He stopped suddenly and we were back
again in the thin haze of outer earth environ. I was shaking.
BB vibrated brightly. (Good fun, huh?)
I flickered deeply. (Yeah, good fun. Who invented that one?)
BB blanked. (Invented?)
(How did it get started?)
BB plied. (Oh, I don't know. Always been around. You can begin a
complete new one if you want. The fun of the game is to add to the old
something new inside, in the middle, or on the end, sort of a surprise.
Get
it?)
(Yeah. We humans have something like it called follow-the-leader.)
BB lighted. (That's right, follow-the-leader! You did real well at it.
You
must play the game a lot.)
I flickered. (Not, uh, not recently. But I did fly airplanes and that
helped.)
BB blanked, and I went on. (Incidentally, what happens if you miss a
turn, or lose the ident?)
BB rolled strongly. (You lose!)
(What happens to the losers?)
BB flickered. (I don't have any rote on that. They never come around to
play again. My percept is, they get lost.)
(And stay lost?)
(Well, they never come around to play again, as I indicated, so I don't
have a rote on it. Often we have as many as a hundred playing in a
group.
Nice game, huh?)
(Yeah.) I then had one final query. (What is all that stuff we went
through?)
BB plied. (Don't have a rote on that either. Nobody bothers with that
junk, it's just a game.)
Some game. I had a clear percept on my dropping BB's ident anyplace
along the track. I would have lost and have been lost. I probably would
have stayed lost, too, I'm sure. But it didn't happen, and I got a
strong
percept to know the game before you get into it, certainly if it was
played
in KT-95.
There was the other part, where and when the game took us. What was
the effect of such energy as the two of us expended upon the areas we
pushed through so indiscriminately and without purpose. How many ants
did we destroy because we didn't look or care where we stepped on the
golf course fairway. What happened when a hundred played the game?
The locals would consider such things natural disasters or God's will,
whether ants or archetypes. Either way, it's a strange percept, possibly
being such an instrument. One illustration of ultimate impersonality,
perhaps.
BB cut in. (Hey, you all right?) I
opened. (Yeah, sure.)
(You were closed and flickering. Had a percept you were going to skip
back to that physical body again.)
I opened and rolled. (No, no. Not yet, anyway.) (Why bother with it?
Why go back at all? Leave it where it is.) I turned inward. The percept
had come up more than once, to say the least, and so far I had rejected
it. The first question always present was: What would I do or be if I
did?
There was still a missing element. I knew I could pass through the rings
easily and I might hang around in one of the upper segments and
participate. Plenty of interesting action there. Most if not all of it
was
focused on helping the human process work better. That seems a good
and essential part of the training system, but it's still preparation.
Preparation for what? That was where the missing element came in.
Those Last-Timers in the outer ring were going Home, but my percept
Home had seemed to grow dimmer rather than clearer and cleaner as it
was supposed to. I hadn't visited There in a long, long time. I opened
carefully. (Well, it's, uh . . . I haven't quite finished school,
learning
yet . . . and I need a physical body to do it.) BB had blanked
completely.
(It's sort of a game,) I went on, (and I've agreed to play it.) BB
lighted.
(Oh, a game! Yeah, I can get that one.) (I'll give you a short rote on
it
if you think you can take it.) BB rolled. (After that last skip with
AA, I
can handle anything human.) I turned inward. He had mentioned AA
without flickering, and that
160-161
was great. He was smoothing. I put together an edited rote, short form,
of
my nonphysical action since 1958, leaving out the THEY sections, and
tossed it to him. He took it in, closed, was still, completely
motionless.
Then he opened wide, rolled, and flickered.
I vibrated. (It's not that funny!)
BB finally smoothed. (I got an ident I can use for you! RAM the Bam!)
He was off again, flickering and rolling hard.
(Just RAM will do.)
He finally quieted down. (Well, Ram, I get the percept that you were
just
a locked-in, hooked-on human until this thing came up. You had some
strong action after that! You didn’t have much smarts.)
I plied. (I still don't have much.)
(And you sure do things the hard way.)
I rolled a little. (Percept you can do any better?)
BB flickered. (Why, any dumb curl with only half his ident could . . .)
I cut in. (How about with no ident?)
BB blanked, then vibrated. (No, you don't. You’re not going
to get me in
that game! I'm staying the way I am!)
I rolled and turned inward. I guess, from an external perspective, much
of my response in my early OOBE states would seem ludicrous. Now I can
laugh at much of it myself. At least I know the human school game can
work. But there are many unknowns. What do you do after you graduate?
Where and how do I practice what I've learned?
BB broke in. (Say, uh, RAM.)
I opened. (Yes?)
BB flickered. (I take it back. You’re not really a dumb curl.)
I rolled. (Thanks. I needed that.)
BB blanked. (You did?)
(That's a joke. Human fun.)
He turned inward, then went on, opening. (How did you get a percept
and start running this leaving-your-body game?)
I flickered. (I don't know. It just happened.)
(Other humans do it, too?)
(I know at least some do. I've met them. Problem is, most go OOB
during sleep and they don't remember it when they wake up back in the
physical.)
BB turned inward, and I knew he was sorting out and scanning the rote
I had given him. Things like sleep and wake-up needed new percepts on
his part. Also I knew what he was leading up to. But he put it off.
He opened, flickering. (These three curls that came down the . . . uh,
beam, you call it. Who were they?)
I plied. (I don't know.)
(They seemed to know you.)
(Maybe they were from KT-95.)
BB rolled. (That is wild rote . . . oh, joke fun. But you seemed to know
them. You wanted them to take you with them. Why?)
I flickered. (I don't know.)
(Ever meet them again?)
(Not that I have a percept of.)
BB turned inward again, then out. (What about these curls that helped
you when you needed it, or percepted you did. Who were they?)
I smoothed. (Probably from the upper rings. There's plenty of that going
on. Again, most humans don't have any percept on it except what they
call
dreams, uh, wild rote.)
BB turned inward again, then opened, flickering. (Well, I get the
percept
that there's too much wild rote floating around here.)
I blanked. (Which in particular?)
(That rote on human compressed learning, human structure, the one you
tossed me.)
I flickered. (Yes?)
BB went on. (That's not wild?)
(My percept is that it fits.)
(I got another rote, and when I overlay the two, one of them is
certainly
wild.)
I blanked. (What rote is that?)
(The one we got in the TSI brochure, about all the places and things we
would be visiting. All about earth and humans, how it got started, what
it's
for . . . all of that stuff.)
I closed, then opened slowly. (They don't match up?)
(Here, get your own percept.) BB tossed a rote at me, and I took it
curiously. And unfolded it.
162
(About Production of Balance)
CLICK!
Someone,
Somewhere (or both, in millions, or uncountable) requires, likes,
needs, values, collects, drinks, eats, or uses as a drug (sic) a
substance
ident Loosh. (Electricity, oil, oxygen, gold, wheat, water, land, old
coins, uranium.) This is a rare substance in Somewhere, and those who possess
Loosh find it vital for whatever it is used for. Faced with this
question of Supply and Demand (a universal law of Somewhere), Someone
decided to produce it artificially, so to speak, rather than search for
it in its "natural" form. He decided to build a Garden and grow Loosh
(Balance).
In the natural state, Loosh was found to originate from a series of
vibrational actions in the carbon-oxygen cycle and the residue was
Loosh in varying degrees of purity. It occurred only during such
action, and secondarily during the reactive process. Prospectors from
Somewhere ranged far and wide in search of Loosh sources and new
discoveries were hailed with much enthusiasm and reward. So it was that
Someone and his Garden changed all this. Far off, in a remote area, he
set to work on his experiment. First, he created a
proper environment for the carbon-oxygen cycle, where it would
flourish. He
created a Balance with much care, so that proper radiation and other
nourishment would be in continuous supply. He then tried his First
Crop, which actually did produce Loosh, but only in small quantities
and of comparatively low grade, not significant enough to take back to
the heart of Somewhere. The problem was twofold. The life period was
too short and the crop units themselves were too minute. This brought
about limits in quality and quantity, as the crop
had
no time to generate Loosh in such close tolerances. Moreover, the Loosh
could be harvested only at the moment of termination of the life span,
not one moment before.
His Second Crop was no better, if as good. He changed the environment
to another part of the Garden, where the density was gaseous rather
than liquid and the higher-density chemicals formed a solid base and
thus were still available. He planted numberless units in many
varieties in a new form, with a great increase in size, some many
thousands of times larger and more complex than the simple unicellular
First Crop. He
reversed the carbon-oxygen cycle. Yet all had a basic uniformity. Like
the First Crop, they would reseed at regular intervals and terminate
their
life spans automatically. To avoid the uneven distribution of chemicals
and radiation which had been prevalent in the First Crop, he
immobilized the Second Crop. Each was designed to stay principally in
its own section of the Garden. To this end, each was given firm
tendrils which burrowed deep in the more dense chemical matter.
Attached to this was a stem or trunk which helped elevate the upper
portion upward for its share of needed radiation. The upper portion,
broad, thin, and somewhat fragile,
was designed as a transducer of carbon-oxygen compounds to and from the
crop unit. As an added thought, brilliant color radiators
accompanied by small particle generators were mounted on each unit,
usually near the top and symmetrically centered. He set up circulating
patterns in the gaseous envelope around the crop, principally to aid in
the reseeding process. Later, he discovered that
the same turbulent effect served as a means of harvesting the Loosh.
If the turbulence were violent enough, the Crop would be blown down,
the life span terminated, and the Loosh would discharge. This was
especially
useful
when an immediate Loosh supply was desired at a particular point rather
than at Harvest Time. Despite all of this, the Second Crop was most
unsatisfactory. While it was true that a much greater quantity was
attained, the unrefined Loosh produced was of such low grade that it
was scarcely worth the effort. In
addition, the growth period was now too long and no increase in quality
resulted. Some vital element was missing. Someone hovered over his
Garden for a long period in study before he attempted the Third Crop.
It was indeed a challenge. True, he was
partially successful. He had grown Loosh. Yet the product of his
efforts fell far short of the wild, uncultivated variety. It was
inevitable that he perceived the answer. The Third Crop was living
proof of this Truth. The original carbon-oxygen cycle must be
included. Mobility must be restored. Both factors had shown great
promise in high-grade Loosh production. If size could be added to this,
much could be accomplished. With this plan in the forefront, Someone
removed various sample units from the First Crop, which was still
thriving in the liquid portion of
the
Garden.
164/165
He
modified them to exist and grow in the gaseous area. He adapted them
first to take nourishment from the Second Crop, which he permitted to
abound for this very purpose. Thus it was that the first
of the Mobiles, the Third Crop, came into being. The Mobiles took
nourishment from the Second Crop, thus ending its life span and
producing lowgrade Loosh. When each huge Mobile terminated its own life
span, additional Loosh was produced. The quantity was massive, but the
frequency pattern of the Loosh residue still left much to be desired.
It was by accident that Someone came upon the Prime Catalyst as regards
Loosh production. The monstrous and slow-moving Mobiles had a life span
far out of proportion to their nourishment input. The growth
and life-termination process was of such length that soon the Mobiles
would all but decimate the Second Crop. The entire Garden would be out
of balance, and there would be no Loosh production whatsoever. Both the
Second and Third Crop faced extinction. As the Second Crop grew scarce,
energy needs of the Mobiles became acute. Often two Mobiles would seek
to ingest the identical Second Crop unit. This created Conflict, which
resulted in physical struggle among
two or more of the ungainly Mobiles. Someone observed these struggles,
at first bemused with the problem, then with great interest. As the
struggles ensued, the Mobiles were
emanating Loosh! Not in fractional amounts, but in sizable, usable
quantities and of a much higher purity. He quickly put the theory to
the test. He removed another unit of First Crop from the liquid Garden
area, redesigned it for the gaseous
environment— but with one significant change. The new Mobile would be
somewhat smaller, but would require the ingestion of other Mobiles for
nourishment. This would solve the problem of overpopulation of Mobiles,
and
at the same time would create good quantities of usable Loosh during
each conflict-struggle, plus a bonus if the new class of Mobile terminated
the life span of the other. Someone would be able to transmit to Somewhere practical amounts of reasonably pure Loosh.
Thus it was that the Rule of the Prime Catalyst came into being.
Conflict among carbon-oxygen cycle units brings forth consistent
emanations of Loosh. It was as simple as that. Satisfied that he had
found the formula, Someone prepared the Fourth Crop. He knew now that
the Third Crop Mobiles were too large and too long in life span to be
ultimately practical. If grown in large
numbers, the entire Garden would have to be expanded and enlarged.
There was not
space enough to grow such massive single units and the proportionate
leafy Second Crops to support them. Also, he reasoned correctly that
more rapid and increased mobility would expand the Conflict factor,
with a resultant higher Loosh output. In one single motion, Someone
terminated the life spans of all the
lumbering Third Crop Mobiles. Going back to the First Crop in the
liquid area, he modified and expanded them into a multitude of shapes
and sizes, gave them complex multicellular structures of high mobility.
He designed into them a pattern of balance. There were those that
ingested
a Second Crop type of carbon-cycle unit (basically immobile) as an
energy source. There were others, very highly mobile, who required for
energy
the ingestion of other mobile Modified First Crop units. The completed
circuit operated quite satisfactorily. The stationary
Second Crop modification in the liquid environment flourished. Small,
highly active liquid-breathing Mobiles took nourishment, "ate" the
Second Crop modification. Larger and/or other active Mobiles consumed
for energy
the smaller "plant eaters." When any Mobile grew too large and slow, it
became an easy target for the smaller Mobiles, who attacked in
voracious numbers. The chemical residue from these ingestive actions
settled to
the bottom of the liquid medium and so provided new nourishment for the
Stationaries (Modified Second Crop), completing the circuit. The result
was a steady flow of Loosh—from the life-span termination of
the Stationaries, from the intense conflict among the Mobiles to avoid
ingestion, and finally from the sudden termination of the life spans of
such Mobiles as the inevitable product of such conflicts. Turning to
another portion of his Garden—the gaseous area
with a dense-compound base—Someone applied the same techniques with
even
more advanced improvements. He added many varieties of Stationaries
(original Second Crop) to provide sufficient and diverse nourishment
for the new Mobiles he was to create. As in the other Garden area, he
made such Mobiles into a balance of two species, those who ingested and
drew energy from the Second Crop Stationaries, and those who required
other Mobiles for sustenance.
166/167
He created them in literally thousands of
original
types, small, large—yet none so large as the Third Crop
Mobiles—and ingeniously gave each some appurtenance for conflict. These
took the form of mass, elusive speed, deceptive and/or protective
coating and
color radiation, wave-action and particle perceptors and detectors, and
unique higher-density protuberances for gouging, grasping, and rending
during conflict. All of the latter served neatly to add to and prolong
the
conflict periods, with the resultant increase in Loosh emanation. As a
side experiment, Someone designed and created one form of Mobile
that was weak and ineffective by the standards of the other Mobiles in
the Fourth Crop. Yet this experimental Mobile had two distinct
advantages. It had the ability to ingest and take energy from both the
Stationaries and other Mobiles. Second, Someone pulled forth a Piece of
Himself —no other source of such Substance being known or
available—to act as an intensive, ultimate trigger to mobility.
Following the Rule of
Attraction, Someone knew that such infusion would create in this
particular Mobile species an unceasing mobility. Always, it would seek
to satisfy
the attraction this tiny mote of Himself engendered as it sought
reunion
with the infinite Whole. Thus the drive for satisfaction of energy
requirements through ingestion would not be the only motivating force.
More
important, the needs and compulsions created by the Piece of Someone
could not be satiated throughout the Garden. Thus the need for mobility
would
be ever-present and the conflict between this need and that of energy replacement would be constant—possibly a continuous
high-order Loosh (Balance)
emanator if it survived.
The Fourth Crop exceeded all of Someone's expectations. It became
apparent that a consistent, useful flow of Loosh was being produced in
the Garden.
The balance of "life"
operated perfectly, with the Conflict
Factor producing immense amounts of Loosh and a steady supplement
brought into being by the constant life-span terminations from all
types of
Mobiles and Stationaries. To handle the output, Someone set up Special
Collectors to aid in the harvest.
He set up Channels to convey the raw Loosh from his Garden to
Somewhere. No longer did Somewhere depend principally upon the "wild
state" as the principal source of Loosh. The Garden of Someone had
ended that. With the success of the Garden and the production of Loosh
by cultivated means, Others began to design and build their Gardens.
This was in accordance with the Law of Supply and Demand (Vacuum is an
unstable condition), as the amounts of Loosh from Someone's Garden only
partially met the requirements of Somewhere. Collectors on behalf of
the Others actually entered the Garden of Someone to take advantage of
those small emanations of Loosh overlooked or ignored by the Collectors
of Someone. Someone, his work completed, returned to Somewhere and
occupied himself with other matters. Loosh production stayed at a
constant level under the supervision of the Collectors.
The only alterations were
ordered by Someone himself. Under instructions from Someone, the
Collectors periodically harvested segments of the Fourth Crop. This was
done to ensure adequate chemicals, radiation, and other nourishment for
the younger, oncoming units. A secondary purpose was to provide
occasional extra amounts of Loosh created by such harvesting. To reap
such harvest, the Collectors generated storms of turbulence and turmoil
in both the gaseous envelope and the more solid chemical
formations that were the base of the Garden itself. Such upheavals had
the effect of terminating life spans of multitudes of the Fourth Crop
as
they were crushed under the rolling base formation or smothered under
waves from the agitated liquid area of the Garden. (By peculiarity of
design, Fourth Crop units could not maintain their carbon-oxygen cycle
surrounded by the liquid medium.) The Garden pattern of "Life" might
have gone on thus throughout eternity had it not been for the
perception and inquisitiveness of
Someone. On occasion, he would study samples of Loosh from his Garden.
There was no motive in doing so, other than the fact that Someone may
have held a remote continuing interest in his project.
On a particular analysis of a Loosh sample, Someone had casually
examined the emanations and was about to return it to the
Reservoir—when he became aware of a Difference. It was very slight, but
there it was. His interest centered immediately, he looked again. Woven
delicately in with the more common Loosh emanations was a slender
fragment of purified and distilled Loosh. This was an impossibility.
Purified and
distilled Loosh resulted only after the "wild state" Loosh had been
processed many times. The Loosh from the Garden of Someone required the
same treatment before it could be used.
168/169
Yet here it was—so finely graded in its refined radiations
that it could or would not return into compound with the raw substance. Someone
reaffirmed
his tests, and the result still was positive. There was a factor in his
Garden of which he was unaware. Quickly, Someone left Somewhere and
returned to his Garden. Outwardly, all seemed the same. The solid-base
gaseous areas of the Garden were an endless carpet of green reflection
from the thriving Second
Crop. The Modified First Crop in the liquid area was in perfect accord
with
the Action-Reaction Law (a Division of Cause and Effect). Someone
perceived
without delay that the Difference—the source of distilled
Loosh— lay neither with the First nor with the Second Crop. He found
his first momentary touch of distilled Loosh emanation in one of the
units of the Fourth Crop (which by then had filtered throughout the
plantings of the Second Crop). The flash came during the unusual action
of this unit as it entered into a life-terminating struggle with
another Fourth Crop unit. This alone would not create distilled Loosh,
Someone knew, and he probed deeper for the source. It was at that
moment he discovered the Difference. The Fourth Crop unit was not
struggling in Conflict over an ingestible remnant of a
weaker Fourth Crop unit or a tasty frond from a nearby Second Crop
stem—or to avoid termination of life and ingestion by the other
conflicting Fourth Crop unit. It was in Conflict to protect and save
from life termination three of
its own newly generated species huddled under a large Second Crop unit
waiting for the outcome. There was no doubt about it. This was the
action that produced the flashes of distilled Loosh. With this clue,
Someone examined the actions of other Fourth Crop units in the Garden.
He found similar flashes when other Fourth Crop units took the same
action in defense of their "young." Still, there
was an inconsistency. The sum of all such flashes of distilled Loosh
emanation from all such actions by the current Fourth Crop units would
not amount to half of the total he had found in the sample from the
Reservoir. It
was obvious that another factor was present.
Systematically, he hovered over the Garden, extending his perception to
all areas. Almost immediately, he found the source. High-order
distilled Loosh radiation was originating from one particular section
of the
Garden. Quickly, he hurried to the spot. There it was—an experimental
Modified Fourth Crop unit, one of those that contained a Piece of
Himself in its functional pattern. It
was standing alone under the leafy upper portion of a large Second Crop
unit.
It was not "hungry." It was not in Conflict with another Fourth Crop
unit. It was not acting in defense of its "young." Then why did it
emanate distilled Loosh in such great quantity? Someone moved closer.
His perception entered into the Modified Fourth Crop unit and then he
knew. The unit was lonely! It was this
effect that produced distilled Loosh. As Someone drew back, he noted
another unusual inconsistency. The Modified Fourth Crop unit suddenly
had become aware of His Presence. It had collapsed and was jerking in
strange convulsions on the
solid-base formation. Clear liquid was being expelled from the two
radiation-perceiving orifices. With this, the distilled Loosh emitted
became even more pronounced. It was from this that Someone propounded
his now famous DLP Formula, which is in effect in the Garden at this
time. The balance of the story is well known. Someone included the
fundamental in his formula: ". . . The creation of pure, distilled
Loosh is brought forth in Type 4M units by the action of unfulfillment,
but only
if such pattern is enacted at a vibratory level above the sensory
bounds of the environment. The greater the intensity of said pattern,
the greater
the output of Loosh distillate. . . ." To put the formula into effect,
Someone designed subtle changes in his Garden, all of them familiar to
every historian. The splitting of all
Crop units into Halves (to engender loneliness as they sought to
reunite) and the encouragement of dominance of the Type 4M unit are but
two of the most noteworthy innovations. As it appears now, the Garden
is a fascinating spectacle of efficiency. The Collectors have long
since become Masters at the Art of the DLP Formula. Type 4M units
dominate and have spread through the entire Garden, with the exception
of the deeper portions of the liquid medium. These are the principal
producers of Loosh distillate. From experience, the Collectors have
evolved an entire technology with
complementary tools for the harvesting of Loosh from the Type 4M units.
170/171
The
most common have been named love, friendship, family, greed, hate,
pain, guilt, disease, pride, ambition, ownership, possession,
sacrifice—and on a larger scale, nations, provincialism, wars, famine,
religion,
machines, freedom, industry, trade, to list a few. Loosh production is
higher than ever before . . .
CLICK!
I was closed tightly, turned inward, stunned. My first reaction was,
there had to be some mistake, this was not the story-history of earth,
BB had it mixed up with some other port of call on their cruise
schedule.
Yet as I ran the rote again, the overlay of what little I knew of
earth's
zoological and human history was uncomfortably accurate, albeit from
another perspective. The food chain of earth's ecobiologic system had
been well established. Knowing this about Mother Nature, some of the
hard-core philosophic speculators had often pondered where the human
animal fit in the process. The downside was obvious, who ate us!
Before, it had been just that, speculation. Now . . .
BB opened, plied. (You get the percept, RAM?)
I dulled. (Yeah, I get it.) (Well, then,)
BB went on, (what's Loosh got to do with learning?)
I opened slightly. (And you got the rote before you came to Earth?)
BB smoothed. (Like I gave you, it was in the TSI cruise brochure. It was in with hundreds of other rotes we got before we left.)
I opened more, but tightly. (Where did the brochure come from?)
(Why, uh . . . yeah, from the Cruise Director.)
(Where did he get it?)
BB
flickered. (I don't have a rote on that He just dumped them on us and
rolled, "Here's the exciting and interesting stops we'll make on the
cruise." I got a good percept because it was the last one we'd visit,
so it was the last rote we got. That's why it's so clear. Some of the others are
dim
because they were in the middle. Not the earth rote, or humans. It's all clean, not wild at all.)
I hardened. (And where did the Cruise Director come from?)
BB lighted. (Oh, he and the rest are a bunch of curls from the system next to us.)
(Why did they offer the cruise to you in KT-95?)
BB smoothed. (Well, it was sort of a, uh . . . trade. We do it all the time with systems near us.)
(What did they get in trade?)
BB lighted. (Games, games! We got more games than any system four skips in any direction!)
I turned inward and closed. It was getting too hot to handle. If the
rote was real . . . a huge if. I began to drop off. Anger, the feeling
of
being on the receiving end of a huge deception. The resentment at being
manipulated, wanting to strike out at those who were conning me . . .
us . . . all humans . . . who were taking something from us without our
consent or permission. What happened to the freedom idea? Was every
thought and action we took guided—no, directed and controlled just to
produce more Loosh, whatever that was, for a breakfast table or a fuel
tank in a Somewhere? And what could I do about it, even knowing? I
dulled deeply and dropped off more and more . . .
(Hey RAM!) BB was fading rapidly. (Where you going!)
Return to the physical was near-instantaneous, exactly as if I had
pushed the panic button, which I had not done for so long. Strong sense
of tiredness, both mental and physical, neglected to check time of
return. Low energy, no desire to do anything. Unable to get to sleep.
Got up, went to the kitchen, and made a cup of coffee. Sat and stared
at the
cup. With no energy or desire for exploration during the two weeks
following, in a depressed state, the only production that surfaced was:
It is sunset. The Guernsey has walked many miles around the pasture in
her forage for food. The grass had been more lush today here, though
she did not bother to consider why. She had come through the gate
calmly when He directed her to do so, instead of the gate across the
road. He knew she would find better grass here, and that was why He
moved her here, though she did not realize it. She only did what He
directed. But now, at sunset, it is time again. She must go to His
place. There is a goading pain on her underside that tells her this. At
His place up on the hill, it is cool and there is more food. And He
will take the pain away. The Guernsey moves up the hill and waits
beside His place. Soon, the gate will open and she will walk into her
position in His place, and eat the grass He places before her. While
she eats, He will relieve the pain until morning. After that, the Man
will walk away with white water in a round container. The Guernsey does
not know where he got the white water nor why He desires it. Not
knowing, she doesn't care.
13. ShockTreatment (About Production of Balance)
173. It took me several months to adjust to the loosh rote. "Adjust" is a
very broad word to describe a complete cycle of shock, rejection, anger,
depression,
resignation,
acceptance. My sequence paralleled remarkably the pattern others have
discovered and studies as to human response when notified of
approaching death from illness or injury. Something was dying in me. I
had long realized that the God of my childhood did not exist, at least
not in the form and substance
envisioned by my enculturation. However, I had deeply accepted the
concept of creator and created—I had but to look around me at the
elaborate and intricate order of design, of the symbiosis that made the
whole process operate, the trees that grew plumb-line straight up if
given the chance,
that provided me and other oxygen breathers with what we needed while
we fed to them unknowingly for a long period our waste products, which
they needed to exist . . . the balance of the entire planet, whose
outer filtering bands of energy permitted just the proper quantity and
quality of sunlight so critical to biologic growth . . . and of course
the food
chain. The loosh rote explained everything very neatly. Most important,
it explained the purpose, the reason for it all, the why of it. This
factor had long eluded me. The loosh answer was simple and obvious. The
reason was there, in very prosaic fashion. We were indeed producing
Something of Value. Loosh. If one finally was able to get past the
emotional barriers involved, it became hard even then to find holes in
the general concept. An explanation of total human behavior and history.
That left the INSPECS. Were they the gardeners, the loosh (Balance)
collectors, or the overseers? The question tantalized and tortured me
for many weeks before I finally
decided I must find out one way or another. On a particular night,
after great difficulty in getting two cycles of sleep, I awoke with a
start and lay quietly in bed.
174
Evidently my fear of
what I might find was greater than I thought, as I unhooked with
difficulty from the physical, then slipped out of the second body as it
hovered. I scanned for the INSPEC homing signal, but there was none.
This
disconcerted me at first, but I was determined and foolhardy. I used
the ident
INSPEC—the total rote I had on them—stretched out,
focused, and let go. There was a quick, short sense of spinning
movement, no impression of passing through the rings, then deep
blackness, and I was motionless. Nothing more. The percept was forming
that the ident I had used wasn't enough. I might be at the gate to
INSPEC territory, but I didn't have the
passport to enter. I had never tried to go to them, they had always met me. I had no percept of their reality/
state; therefore I had arrived only at the
site of our meetings. If I focused on . . . A warm vibration washed through me.
(Very good, Mister Monroe. You are quite correct.)
I began to relax somewhat. At least I had gotten this far, and at least THEY didn't call me RAM.
(Perhaps you would like it better if we used the ident by which we know you best. We believe you are ready for it now.)
Ready for it, a name, they know me best . . . What could that be?
(Ashaneen)
Ashaneen. It was both familiar and strange. Again, that feeling of
trying to recover from severe amnesia, and the gentle patience of those trying
to help me remember. But the loosh (Balance). . .
(We
are aware of the disturbance you have undergone. It was necessary that
you experience this. It goes with the territory, as you put it.)
Then the loosh rote was real! I began to flicker . . .
(It is the translation that is not real. The difficulty of placing
earth and human values properly into perspectives and energies that are not of
time
and space is a factor very familiar to you.)
I turned inward, picking up the loosh rote. Loosh, an energy generated
by all organic life in varying degrees of purity, the clearest and most
potent coming from humans—engendered by human activity which
triggers emotion, the highest of such emotions being—love? Is love
loosh?
(Continue, Ashaneen.)
But according to the rote, loosh is thrown off when life ends its
physical existence, when pain occurs, anger, hate . . . these can't be the same
as love.
(How would you define love in your terms?)
I knew that would be next in the order of things, and I couldn't come
up with an answer. Throughout history, great minds and greater
philosophers had given it a try, with only partial success, and I was
none of these. I wouldn't even consider trying.
(But you know it exists. Love is not an illusion.)
I released the loosh rote and turned deeply inward, scanning. It was
easier from this perspective, or perhaps it was the presence of the
INSPEC energy.
It presented itself much as a
simultaneous mixture and sequence of musical chords and short melodies,
only it wasn't sound, it was
patterns in colors of light. Scattered among the clutter of harmony,
dissonance, discord, excitement, fun, fear, and emotion, and beginning
shortly after birth, I had the percept of occasional surges of white .
. . first from
my mother and father, then smaller flashes I was unable to identify as
to source. I kept scanning through my early years for any slight
glimmer of white originating in me, that / put forth. To my dismay, all
I could
find was one small white glow for an Airedale dog named Pete. I was
certain that the girl in high school, what was her name? . . . not even
a
flicker, either way.
(Most common misconception, early-manifested survival drive.)
I agreed. Yet I could understand
why. The bright red and pink chords and urgent melody were impressive
even from this viewpoint; no wonder an ignorant
curl such as I was would come up with the wrong percept. I went on
through the mess that was I in a fast-forward mode, and I could spot
sure and solid white surges here and there of which I had then been
unaware, and their reality depressed and saddened me—because I found no
significant emission from me that was remotely similar. It was all
coming in, and I took it and didn't respond. I finally cut it off,
would go into it no further. I wasn't much of a loosh producer. Too
many other color chord patterns and melodies. Except for now. I knew
some strong emissions in a few points were coming out of me. Did it
take that long!
(You understand waveforms. All come from the same baseline, the colors
and the white. The difference is frequency and amplitude.)
I knew what THEY were doing, and I appreciated it.
176/177
My focus was being
diverted from what I thought was unpleasant back into an abstract yet trunk-and-roots position. Using the same stuff—interactive
experience— one began to learn to express anger, pain, fear, and all the rest, and
finally —hopefully, if you passed the course—a special
energy waveform labeled love. Yet we don't really know what it is and, with my suspicion
growing, how to really use it.
(A carefully designed school of compressed learning.)
To
learn to be high-quality loosh/love producers. The fact that human
physical consciousness was for the most part totally unaware of being
involved in the process may be an important ingredient itself. Precious
few are cognizant of the nonphysical agenda, at least overtly. It was
getting pretty heavy for my cognizance. Yet I began to get a very faint
percept, elusive but it was there. What would happen if the Guernsey
cow did discover that her milk had value? What could she herself do
with it
if she didn't have a calf to feed it to? Could she save it? Could she
spend it on more hay or protein-vitamin blocks to lick? What if she
then
discovered man was taking the milk she produced? Rebel, refuse to
deliver any more milk? Then she would no longer have a pasture in which
to graze, protection from wild dogs, a bull when she needed it, and
most of all,
no barn to go to where she could get relief from the pain. Without a
sense
of serial time, she forgets that the pain eases eventually. Perhaps
even
knowing, she wouldn't care. She wouldn't want to mess up a good thing.
Therefore: Who cares? Who would care!
(To use your term, you can't beat the machine.)
The percept was still there, faint, still to be explained or satisfied.
What about those who do beat the machine? There always have to be exceptions,
no machine is perfect, only one anomaly is needed to prove a statistic
or create one. Are they carted off to be ground up into hamburger meat?
If so, is hamburger a sort of super loosh or something entirely
different? Is this also a part of the machine product, or is it rust
that is scraped away and discarded?
And the bull calves, what is their role? Never will be loosh producers;
it takes only one bull for every fifty cows, so there's a surplus. In
nature—the machine? —left alone, there's a way that is automatically
taken care of . . . the impersonality of that prospect of dominance and
predation is certainly not in the winning column. Hold it there, the
percept is
getting stronger. There would be no loosh production without at least
one, uh, one bull. So he is an indirect loosh producer, vital to the
method. That would infer, so are grass, hay, water, minerals, and the
rest.
(Remember your waveforms, beat frequencies you like so much.)
Let's see, here. If a smart transmitter propagates certain waves, they
can resonate with other related vibrations of like kind to form a
multiple pattern which if thought of as light—would be: white! So in
and of itself, you don't have to be the end-product antenna or
transducer, just one of the oscillators. You may never display actual
loosh radiation, but you
have a vital part in its production. Remembering the scan of my early
years,
I felt much better.
(Then why are you disturbed?)
The percept still itched inside me, THEY were right. What would I do
with loosh/love if I had a large warehouse full of it? Hand it out? It
would only come back with interest and I would have to build another
warehouse to hold the compounding, growing volume. The percept surged
brightly. It was so obvious . . . Someone, Somewhere. If I could . . .
(You are not ready at this point.)
Ready to go to Somewhere? To meet Someone? And in all of this, how do
you fit in, my friend? If I had the courage to ask these . . .
(We are not Someone, as you put it, nor are we from the Somewhere you
indicate. Also, we are not the keepers of the Garden of Earth, nor the
gardeners. Nor do we collect and transfer human-developed loosh/energy
elsewhere or when. We do not fit into any portion of the human
compressed learning process. However, we have observed its generation
and growth from its inception. We do participate when needed without
interrupting
the learning sequence. Such need is expressed when there is blockage in
the flow. Such participation ultimately serves a vital need for us.)
I had a need to ask the question. Is . . .
(Somewhere is not the heaven of your history. It was created, as were
all other systems.)
Then Someone . . .
(Is a creator who was created. You are a creator who was created. Each
of you does carry a small rote, as you call it, of Someone, who created
you.
Through that rote of Someone, your creator, you carry a percept of the creator who created Someone.)
178/179
I turned inward. Even with this viewpoint, it was hard to set aside
serial logic. The easy percept was how the multitude of distortions,
misconceptions,
misdirections came about. A little knowledge can be dangerous, and
human creative imagination took over from there. If there had not been
a Someone . . .
(Humans would not exist.)
I went over the idea of loosh/love. It must be quite a place to handle
that much loosh, this Somewhere. It would fall neatly into many
concepts of heaven.
I grew wistful. Maybe we could
go just to the edge of
Somewhere, so I could get a feel of the place/state where there was so
much love, surely near it, but not in it, just to observe from a
distance.
It would answer so much . . .
(That is not too much to ask, Mister Monroe. We can arrange it. Close tightly . . .)
(Seeing The Glimpse of Creative Force)
CLICK!
.
. . Even closed tightly, the radiation was so strong that it was
nearly unbearable . . . I felt as if sweat were pouring off me, I was
melting
. . . but it wasn't heat . . . and I began to heave with great racking
sobs
and I couldn't understand why . . . then the radiation eased, and I
opened a little. There was a form between me and the radiation,
shielding me,
and I could perceive a corona effect all around the form from the
radiation beyond. It reminded me deeply of religious paintings I had
seen, only
this was live and in something far different from pigmented color . . .
(This is as close as you can tolerate. We are diverting most of the
effective energy patterns, which are in themselves only the random residue, the
leakage as you might call it, from the fundamental. Focus through us
rather than the outer rim. It will help.)
With great difficulty, I narrowed and held on the center of the form .
. . and I began to cool and calm down . . . slowly my rational and
observing self began to emerge again, dominating the overwhelming
emotional surge that had enveloped me . . . it was as if I perceived
through a darkly tinted window and I had to work continually to keep
the emotion below the threshold level, the wondrous and brilliant joy,
awe,
reverence, melded into one yet with flashes of each sparking
momentarily . . . all coursing through me as I responded to the
radiation, unable to prevent
it and barely keeping it under control. This would most emphatically be
the ultimate heaven, the final home . . .
(Observe more carefully. You are capable of doing so.)
I looked through the
smoked-glass shield that was my INSPEC friend . . . and I was grateful,
for I knew if I responded to this degree from just the
reflection, the leakage, the full force of the radiation would have
shattered me, I was not ready for it, if this was the percept from the
distant edge . .
. there, in the long view, was a radiant living form of incredible
size, my first percept that of a tall standing humanoid, arms
outstretched in front, palms upward . . . but
just as quickly, it was not . . .
instead, a shining globe, edges indistinct, behind it another,
identical in
appearance, behind it another, a continuous cascade moving away into
infinity, beyond my percept ability . . . from each came numberless
beams or rays, some huge in their diameter, others no wider than a
pinpoint, all
uniform in size throughout their length and beyond my percept as to
their destination, some of them moving past me so close that I felt I
could reach out and touch one . . . (The Suns, the Pieces of Creative
Force)
(Would you like to do so? We will help you if needed.)
I hesitated, then with the warm
assurance from the shielding INSPEC form, I stretched a part of me out,
cautiously, and touched the smallest ray nearest me . .
. in an instant, the shock spread throughout all what I thought I was,
and I knew, and in knowing, knew that I would forget if I tried to
remember, because what I was could not yet handle the reality of it . .
. yet I
never again would be the same even without remembering, except that it
occurred and the indescribable joy of knowing only that it did take
place and the echoes would reverberate in me throughout eternity,
whatever my eternity was . . . gently,
I felt myself being detached
from the ray, and I collapsed behind the shielding form of my INSPEC
friend. . . . Friend? INSPEC? I realized then how provincial my
percepts were. I also realized how limited they were . . . the
radiating globes, the rays
emitted. . .
(You responded very well for the initial exposure. Your human
loosh/love energy is transmuted into the center of what you perceive.
From there
it is
redirected into what you call the rays, to the points where it is
needed most.
When you have progressed, we can guide you to one of the destinations so
you can observe the results.)
180/181
My
percept was not strong enough to bring any flicker whatsoever as to
what exposure to the full force of such rays might be. But my human
curiosity wouldn't let the basic question go unanswered, now that I had
smoothed somewhat.
(It was created. It was always there, we have no percept of a beginning. Are you ready to return now?)
I turned inward and closed tightly.
CLICK!
. . . We were back again in familiar blackness, only now it seemed
empty and sterile, but the INSPEC energy was still beside me . . . now
I would have to put together a new ident for them, if they could hold
up
so calmly under . . .
(INSPEC will serve as well as any other.)
But I couldn't let it alone. As shaken as I was, I knew I had to ask,
because I had known they were greater, but how much greater now might
be a depth . . .
(We are created, just as you are created. More than that, it is
important that you obtain from your own percept. In your own—how do you
put it?—
time, you will find the reason for this.)
Suddenly, I felt a strong, urgent signal pulling at the back of me. I
resisted at first, not wanting to leave, but the signal was persistent.
With the warm pattern of understanding from my INSPEC friend, I turned
and followed the signal. Instantly, I was hovering over my physical
body. There below me was my second body. I slid into it easily, then
into the physical. My right arm was tingling due to lack of
circulation. I
evidently had been lying on it at an angle. I flexed the arm several
times,
musing as I had so many times before: Suppose there were no signal to
return, how long would I stay away, would I never return? It was then,
lying there
in the darkness, listening to the whippoorwill and the night crickets
outside, the soft earth-scented breeze flowing in through the open
window,
feeling the hot warmth of our little dog Steamboat sleeping contentedly
against the soles of my feet, the even breathing of Nancy sleeping
beside
me— that I felt the wetness of my cheeks and a few remaining tears in
my
eyes. And I remembered. Not much, but I remembered! I sat up in bed,
wanting to jump up and shout in incomprehensible joy. Steamboat raised
his head and looked at me curiously, then dropped back. My wife shifted
position as I sat up, then gradually resumed her even breathing rhythm.
I would not wake her, she needed her rest and recharge. I lay back and
remembered. Sometime before dawn, I, too, fell asleep.
183
14. ONE EASY LESSON
Time: 3:40 A.M. . . . awake, alert, rested, relaxed . . . unhooked
easily
from the physical, slid out of the second immediately, and waited for a
signal. There was none, so I let go and let the total self take over.
There
was the usual blur of movement, not too extensive, and I had the ident
of
BB close by me. My percept of him was totally different. He was tightly
closed. And dulled. The thin outer haze of the Intermediate Area made
him even less distinguishable.
I tried to smooth casually. (Hey, old buddy, what's up?)
BB opened slightly. (Oh, hello, RAM.) (I had it you
would he pulling skips back to KT-95.) He dulled.
(Sure.)
I smoothed very gently. (Anything I can do for you?) (No . . . no.) He
started to close. (I'm just hanging around.) He had the set of someone
who had lost his best friend, which was exactly the case from his
perspective, and partially so from another— partially in that
the same
AA, when he finally emerged, would be the fundamental, with the
unique variegation learned from the in-human experience permanently
interwoven and overlaid throughout the being that he had become. It
could be construed as a loss if BB did not accept the change or
expected only the stasis of KT-95 that had been AA. I tried another
approach. (Well, you just can't stand here forever.) BB blanked.
(Forever? What's that?) I flickered. (It's, uh . . . human expression.)
He
vibrated. (I want nothing to do with that human action!) I put it to him
hard and straight. (You’re going to have to get some kind of
rote about
human. If you don % you won't know your friend AA when he comes out.
You won't have any ident on him whatsoever.) BB vibrated. (Sure, I will!
You don't lose things like that!) (It won't be the same. Pick up your
rote
when you tried to pull him out.
Even then, you had trouble with his ident. I guarantee you that's just
the
small part of it, he was only on his way in, he was just getting
started.)
He turned inward and closed. I suddenly got the percept that I had
done it again. What would I do with him? He wasn't a stray cat or dog I
could take back, feed, and find a home for. It was ludicrous. Fix him up
with a human body? How would I do that? And he certainly wasn't going
to join the line and go human via the Entry Station. Can you learn to
swim without getting in the water and getting wet?
I tried to ease out of it gracefully. (Maybe it's best that you pull a
skip
and go back to KT-95, let it go at that.)
BB opened slightly. (I did. Went and came back.)
I waited. I wasn't going to get in deeper if I could help it. I knew he
would go on and he did.
(There was a hole and the hole was empty. You ever been like that?)
I plied. (Yeah, I've been there. It'll stay empty because it's designed
for
one curl. No other will fit in.)
(AA was one smart curl, you can believe it. Too smart for his own good.
Look what it got him.)
I plied again. (It happens.)
I was about to turn and disengage as carefully as I could, but I was too
late. I had the strong percept that he would come to some solution and
it
would involve me. I was too right.
He had lighted very brightly. (You can do it!)
(Do what?)
(Feed me rotes about humans. Then I'd be ready for him.)
I flickered. (I wouldn’t know where to start.)
(Then show me how it works.)
(How am I going to do that? You 'd have to be in-human . . .)
(No, no, I wouldn't,) BB cut in quickly. (You move around without a
physical body.)
(Well, yes, but . . .)
(You and me, we had a hook right from the start, RAM. Like old friends.
I got a solid ident on you. So you be my Tour Guide, quick and short.
How
about it?)
I smoothed. (What's it like being human in one easy lesson?)
He lighted more. (That's it, that's it!)
184-185
That was it all right. Not quite the blind leading the blind, but close.
All I could do was give him a skim over what I did have as the basics,
show
him . . . yes! Show! That ought to make it clear.
I opened. (All right. The main thing about being in-human is survival.
That's the biggest percept of all. It drowns out about everything else
for
most humans.)
He blanked. (What's survival.)
(Staying alive.)
(What kind of problem is that? You’re alive, you stay alive.)
I smoothed. (Not if you’re in a physical body. The imprint
comes up for
most to mean stay alive in a physical body, no more. They use most of
their
energy trying to survive, one way or another. That's the cause of
virtually all
human problems. The drive for survival is so strong it messes up
everything.
End of lesson.)
BB rolled. (Come on, that's the wildest rote I ever had thrown at me!)
(It's not so funny if you're in it. You believe it as real and nothing
else.)
He continued to roll, and I realized there was only one way he just
might get the idea. Show him. Take him down on the beach and watch
the swimmers . . . (Come on, follow my ident.)
BB lighted. (Sure, RAM!)
I turned, did a half-roll, and dove down through the rings with my new
KT-95 friend close behind me. Never mind the big centers, get down to
the basics . . . that would be back from civilization, outlying physical
areas . . . middle of Asia, yes . . . that would do it . . . I pulled
to a
stop just over a bleak hill with a ragged forest down one side. A man
was
crouched in the edge of the forest. BB was beside me and I turned his
focus on the man. What looked to be a small deer was grazing in the
grasses not far from the man. The man raised a gun, took aim, and fired.
The deer fell, twitching its legs, and the man ran forward, pulled the
deer's head back, and slashed its throat with a knife. Blood gushed out
from the deer's throat, and it finally went limp. The man hoisted the
deer
over his shoulder and moved along the edge of the woods in the direction
of a stone hut. We followed as BB pushed at me.
(That human, he killed that other being.)
I plied. (Yep.)
(Why did he do that? Not much survival going on there!)
(Not for the deer, that's the other one, the animal . . . uh, the other
being. The human needs the body of the deer.)
BB blanked. (What would he want with that? He's already got a body.)
I smoothed, here it comes. (To survive. He needs it to eat.)
(Eat! What's eat?)
(He puts it in his own physical body to give it energy to survive, so
he can
stay alive. That's what we ident eating.)
(The other being, the uh, deer, it didn't survive, stay alive . . . uh,
physically. I got a good percept of the energy leaving it.)
One easy lesson! (Well, humans are what we ident as the dominant
species, uh, beings alive here. They are at the top of what we call the
food
chain. Food is what we call the stuff we eat. Little species get eaten
by
bigger species which in turn get eaten by bigger species until you get
up to
human. He isn't the biggest but he's the smartest, that's why he's the
dominant species. He eats about everything that grows.)
BB was turned inward and flickering as we followed the man to the
stone hut. The man shifted the deer carcass off his shoulder and hung it
head down on a rack outside the hide-draped doorway. Then he went
inside.
BB flickered. (Isn’t he going to, uh, eat it?)
(He will later. Has to cure it a little first, let the blood drain out
of it.
Want to go inside?)
He didn't really have a choice, as I led him through the stone wall.
Inside, there was a small fire burning in the center of an earthen
floor.
Around the fire were three persons, a woman and two small children. The
woman was stirring a pot hung over the fire, the two children watching
hungrily. The man sat down and joined them, took off his heavy coat, and
accepted the bowl the woman handed him. He started to eat, using his
fingers to pull pieces of food from the bowl and sipping from its rim.
BB
pushed at me urgently.
(What was that he did!)
(Right now he's eating, he's taking pieces of food and putting them into
his body, and the little stuff, he just pours it in.)
(Yeh, yeh, I got that percept, it was before! He slipped off part of his
body!)
I blanked, then lighted. (That was his coat. It's not his body, it's a
piece
186-187
of stuff he puts on to keep warm. That's the next thing in the survival
need
—to keep your physical body so it's warm enough or cool
enough and to
protect it from getting hurt. That's the reason for the cabin, the, uh,
hut
we're in now. It helps protect the physical body. The fire . . . the,
uh,
radiation in the middle, that helps them keep warm.)
I had the percept that BB was focused as one would be fascinated by a
cobra weaving its hooded head directly in front of your face. I focused
on
him, trying to determine exactly what and how much of the scene was
penetrating him as a real rote. How do you explain warm and cold or such
a simple thing as a cooking fire, or the constant attention and
servicing a
physical body requires, to one who has never been in one? Then BB was
pushing at me again.
(RAM, RAM!) He was vibrating strongly. (He's killing the other one!)
I turned. The man had moved the woman back from the fire and
pushed her to the ground. He was on top of her, his body holding her
down, arms around her tightly, hers around him. Her long rough dress was
thrown up over her hips and they were writhing violently, her open legs
locked around his waist. The two children were eating from the bowl,
totally unconcerned. Not being the voyeur type, I could be quite
clinical.
I smoothed. (He's not killing her. They 're, uh, reproducing.)
(What's . . .)
(They're putting their two energies together to form a third. They're
making copies of themselves, like the smaller two there eating by the
fire.
I'm sure they made those two.)
(Why would they do that?)
(It's the biggest part of the survival stuff. Make a copy of yourself
and
keep on living in your copy. It's basic in all living species, not just
humans.
The rote is that you reproduce first, before you get around to eating,
cold or
warm, whatever.)
(But they already made two.)
(That's a sort of guarantee that at least one will survive to make more
copies. If those two young new ones die or get killed before they make
copies, then the third they’re making right now might live
long enough to
get copies made.)
BB flickered. (Why would they die, or how would they get killed?)
(That's one of the problems of physical life. It's easier to die or get
killed
than it is to live. The strong survival drive is needed to achieve
balance.
That produces other problems.)
(What problems?)
(We’ll get to them along the way.)
He focused on the couple below, who by now had completed their
sexual act and were back eating before the fire. (The two big ones are
not
the same.)
(Humans, but different. Run the rote when you caught up with
AA—he
wanted to go back and be a female. Then the next time around, he had
been a female. Humans are either male or female. It takes a male and a
female to reproduce, to make a copy.)
BB turned inward, then opened. (Which are you?)
(Male.)
(You ever been female?)
(I don't have any rote on it, so I guess not.)
He opened more. (Nothing like this in KT-95. Never had a percept like
it, to make a copy of yourself. Fascinating!)
I cut in. (Well, it's not exactly a copy of yourself, it's a physical
mix of
the two, and you hope it might be a copy of you, but it never really
turns out
that way. It's just a physical vehicle. The curl who enters it might be
a total
stranger.)
BB rolled. (Don't get concerned, RAM. I'm not that fascinated.)
(I get a percept that stronger curls than you have been caught into
being
human.)
He smoothed. (At this point, I don't get any part of this survival
stuff.
That would be too much for me. The eating, I can adjust to, the warm and
cool. If they can do it, I can do it. The reproducing, copy making, that
would be fun, make a big game out of it.)
I couldn't hold it back. (Famous last words. Come on.)
He blanked. (No percept on that one. Last words?)
I turned, went through the wall, sure that BB was following. I homed in
on the one place that I knew would give him a strong rote on how
distortion
could accumulate. Ident New York, center of Manhattan, start with
West Forty-second Street. The movement was quite short, and we came in
at sidewalk level. The usual evening human composites were crowding one
another, jostling, strolling, hurrying, and loitering. The eateries,
the old
188-189
movie houses overplugging underdone X-rated pornos on their marquees,
the gimmick and gut shops, record stores blasting it out, the car and
truck
traffic filling the street—it hadn't really changed in thirty
years, only more
of the same. Yes, this would show it. BB was in the middle of the
passing
parade, unnecessarily ducking and trying to avoid bumping into people. I
steered him over to the curb, out of the rush and crush.
He flickered. (Where 'd they all come from?)
(Crossroads of the world, they used to call it. Come from everywhere,
lot
of them live nearby.)
(Why do they come here, this place!)
I smoothed. (The percept is, you can find anything you want here in New
York.)
BB vibrated. (Still doesn't come out new to me, even down in it.)
(It's just the ident, that's all. But they're doing the same thing as
the man
back there by the woods, every one of them. Trying to survive. Doing
anything
to keep alive.)
BB flickered. (I don't get the same percept. And the M Band noise is
shaking me up too much. The scratchy stuff in the band, it's the worst!
Never got that before anywhere! Where's it all coming from?)
I smoothed. (Close a little, that'll make it easier. The noise is coming
from us humans. The scratchy stuff that screeches so much I finally
figured
out. It's their emotions.)
(Emotions?)
(I won't try to give you a percept on it, you have to be human to
experience
it. It's the next-biggest problem after the survival drive. Makes humans
do things they really don't want to do.)
He flickered, half open. (Why do they make all the noise?)
I plied. (They don't know they're doing it.)
He turned inward, closed. Then he opened slightly. (You're human.
How come you don't make M Band noise like that?)
(I do. I just have it under control for the moment. Back in the
physical, I
blow it all over the place, I'm sure.)
BB opened and smoothed. (All right. If you can take it, so can I. Now,
what about this survival stuff?)
I spun a slow 360. (Within a short time-distance from this spot, you can
get all of your survival needs taken care of and more. As much as you
want,
any kind you want, whenever you want. You ident it and you got it.)
BB flickered. (All the, uh, food to, uh, eat?)
(From the hamburger joint over there to the top of that tower over in
the
distance. Go in and they will supply you.)
(The warm and the cool, the, uh, hut to stay in, the stuff you put on
your
body?)
(All here.)
(How about making copies, the, uh . . . yeh, reproducing?)
I rolled. (I suppose you could get that, too, if you looked hard enough.
Most of it here is, uh, doing the action without making any copies.)
BB blanked. (Why would you want to do it if you’re not making
copies!)
I flickered. (My percept has it that the survival imprint was so strong
it
wanted to make sure each species took the trouble to reproduce. So the
act
of doing it was made to be, uh . . . fun.)
He blanked again. (Fun! Those back there didn't act like they were
having fun!)
I plied. (You have to be human to get that percept. It can't be handed
out
in a rote either. Anyway, you can satisfy that part of the survival
drive, too,
as much as you want.)
BB lighted brightly. (Then what's all the mix-up about! It's all under
control! Humans get what they want, there's plenty of it, each curl
soaks it
up and goes back where he came from.)
I turned inward and closed. This was turning into a hard lesson for me,
not him. I was pretty sure it wouldn't work and it wasn't. How do I
convey
to him the fact that all humans have to spend most of their waking hours
working one way or another just to survive, that humans want the same
thing and kill each other to get it, that they get so involved in
surviving
they don't know when to stop when they have enough, that humans form
big clubs they call nations and try to destroy other nations who they
think
threaten their survival, that the whole thing occupies their thoughts
and
actions so deeply they forget completely any other existence but
physical
human . . .
(You're leaking again, RAM,) BB cut in. (You got it right. I wouldn't
get
a percept on any of it. What's this work stuff? You mean humans kill and
eat each other? What do you mean, they forget?)
190-191
I did the best I could. (Work is what humans do to get money, uh,
energy to pay, uh, give to other humans so those humans will give them
what they want to satisfy their survival needs.)
(Money energy, huh? Must be pretty strong stuff. I have no ident on it.)
(You wouldn't. Only humans have it, and it's strictly physical. Won't
work anywhere except on physical earth and with other humans. Worse
than that, each group of humans, uh, nations . . .)
(The big clubs . . . we have game clubs in KT-95.)
(Yes, the big clubs of humans. Each has its own type of money energy
and they trade money.)
BB smoothed. (So if I want a deer to eat, or a hut to be in, a cover
for my
body to be in, I got to give money energy to get it.)
(You work, you pay, and you get.)
He focused on the cars moving by. (How about those covers? Can you
get them for money energy, too?)
(That's all it takes.)
(It's too messed up for me.) BB smoothed completely. (If I had to be
human, I would stay away from all the rest of it and just hang around
making copies and let it go at that. . . . What's so funny?)
I was rolling hard and couldn't keep closed.
He blanked. (That takes money energy, too?)
I plied. (One way or another.)
Suddenly, I felt an urgent signal to return to the physical, loud and
clear. I tried to resist it, and worked to get BB's attention at the
same
time. I had to go back, but I couldn't leave him where he was, he
wouldn't
know how to get out . . . but the signal was too strong and I couldn't
help myself. I began to move away, slowly as I resisted, then
accelerating
quickly as I decided to go back and see what the problem was and return
as fast as I could. I reached the second, slipped in fast, and pulled
up into
the physical. I sat up in the bed and looked around. Everything seemed
normal, no full bladder, no tingle in an arm or leg from poor
circulation,
no aches or pains. Must have been external, phone ringing, jet aircraft
overhead, whatever, it wasn't important. I immediately remembered BB,
and I had the thought of him standing bewildered on the curb at
Fortysecond
and Broadway. I went through a quick relaxation to try to get
down and OOB, but I was too keyed up, I couldn't hold it together. On
about the sixth try, I fell asleep.
When I awakened, it was morning. I thought of trying to get out and
help BB, but it was the wrong time for me. I spent the day in my typical
pattern, with BB flashing in and out of my consciousness. This was a
case
where I was 100 percent responsible and I knew it. Finally, late in the
afternoon, I felt tired enough to relax, and went up to the lab,
entered,
and locked the door. I set up some sound signals and went into the
booth.
I lay back on the water bed, put on the headphones, and almost
immediately
started to relax. The rest was easy. I detached from the physical,
rolled out of the second, started to reach, and stopped. There was a
form
directly in front of me.
(Hey, RAM, where you going?)
I vibrated. (How did you get here!)
BB was very smooth. (When you started to pull that short skip, I just
followed your ident. I wasn’t going to stay in all that M
Band noise if you
didn 't. Much better here.)
(I should hope so.)
(Your survival must be going strong. You got more than one hut.)
I flickered. (This is not a hut, it's where we work.)
(I got a solid percept of you coming out of the physical body there.
That
yours?)
I vibrated. (Certainly it's mine! I don't go into other people s
bodies.)
(Why not?)
I flickered. (Well, uh, it's against the rules.)
(What rules?)
(I don't know, it doesn 't, uh, the percept is, you don't do it. I
don't think
I could if I wanted to.)
(You do a lot of turning and twisting when you come out, you know.)
I plied. (I don't have a percept from outside watching me in action.)
(We do much the same back in KT-95 in a game we play. Gets us in and
out of the system over us. Hey, what are all those curls doing in that
big hut
over there?)
I vibrated. (You didn't go over there, did you?)
BB smoothed. (Just hung around a little. Couldn’t get your
attention, so
192-193
/ had to do something. Tossed a couple of rotes to one or two. They were
glad to get them. What they doing?)
(They are trying to break the survival habit . . . and to relearn what
they
forgot. It's a school.)
(I don't get any percept you need a school to do that.) I turned. (You
need the rest of your one easy lesson.) I reached and stretched, headed
for the lowest of the cycling rings, staying just out of phase with the
physical. This was the part that was the rough stuff but I was sure we
would be ignored and unmolested if we stayed just on the upper
fringes. I didn't look forward to it. For purposes of comparison, I used
the same Forty-second Street ident in New York. It was a short run and
we came out fifty feet over the street. BB was beside
me.
He smoothed. (Back here again. No difference, except a big mass more
of humans.)
(Focus on the ones that you perceive best.)
BB opened, and evidently the change in the superimposed mass was
apparent to him. The man rushing out from the curb to flag a taxi and
running through it, and stopping bewildered as car after car passed
through the space he seemed to occupy. The thin young male in long hair,
who looked to be no more than eighteen, trying to get the attention of
the
young group leaning against a parked car, asking for a hit from the
joint
being passed around but unable to get their attention because they can't
see or hear him. The burly policeman in full uniform swinging his
nightstick,
strolling along the storefronts totally unaware that he is unobserved.
The smartly dressed woman of indeterminate age trying to find a coin for
a newspaper in her purse as she unknowingly walks through the side of a
nearby building. The older man trying to buy the offerings of two young
hookers standing by a doorway leading upstairs, angry because they don't
know he exists, watches as a physical man steps up, waves a double
sawbuck
in one girl's face as she turns and leads him up the stairs; the first
man following. The old woman walking slowly along the street, oblivious
to everything around her, reaching down occasionally to the sidewalk and
attempting to pick up a half-smoked cigarette snipe, but her hand passes
through it. The dark-skinned man standing defiantly in the middle of the
passing crowds, intense hate on his face and knife in hand, slashing
through each passerby without realizing he is damaging or hurting no
one.
The unshaven old man at the open bar across the street, trying to pick
up
and toss down every drink set in front of a customer, then climbing on a
customer's back to try and get the taste and effect of the drink as the
customer feels it, unnoticed and to no avail. I turned to BB. (Had
enough?) He flickered strongly. (What's the matter with them?) (They've
died physically and they don
