Friends,
a chapter from More Adventures which covers a later period in my development when guides were trying to unload me, get me to have confidence and go solo.  Including some details on mass retrievals.

gordon





                    ADVERTISING ETERNITY

"For a few years I felt like I was advertising eternity to those
trapped in time. I still do really, except I’m so used to it it’s become
second nature. Old friends find me funny, but then they always
did, and I can’t say I blame them. I’m as wingy and eccentric as
they come. I do find it intriguing though, that the one thing which
has liberated me from illusion - the understanding that we are
eternal spirits struggling through time in many guises - is the one
thing which makes me certifiable to many. What a classic paradox,
the key to freedom is also the key to the box society will put you
in. And that’s why I follow the three c’s, - civil, charming and
companionable - for it helps to soften the blow. People will tolerate
a great deal if you don’t badger them. Mostly, of course, I’m
preaching to the converted, those who acknowledge the presence
and power of spirit outside of institutionalized dogma, and who
want to feel more of its many unpredictable, and generally
unacknowledged, manifestations.

"Freelance spirituality is always an adventure. I could never say
I was bored. Spirit brings many opportunities and challenges to
my door. And as the years go by I’m beginning to see how each of
those challenges was called forth by my increasing aptitude for the
seemingly unannounced. Retrievals have become so commonplace
I only take notes if they’re out of the ordinary. I did at least four
last week, for example; a couple of traffic accidents and two
soldiers taken in action, and that’s just what I can recall right now.
Strangers email me for soul searches and distance healing, and
unless I’m outrageously busy, I do them without a second thought.
And at last I am comfortable with my fee schedule.

"The abnormal becomes the commonplace, clients come by to be
regressed, I make supper, I meditate and maybe merge with
Higher Self, I make some cocoa, I go to bed. Sleep is a blessing. The
body rests and recuperates, but the spirit soars. Since finishing A
First Hand Account I seem to have come full circle. My obe contacts
and retrievals were vivid but patchy. I wanted to do away with the
channeling necessary to complete the picture. Hemi-sync then
helped and extended the experience, but did not lead to the full
visuals I’d hoped for, and as I went on I began to wonder: was I
doing them in real time, or was I experiencing a rerun of the
previous night’s obe work? I puzzled over this for months.

"Guides were cagey when I asked, but eventually fessed up. Mostly my
meditations were reruns, to further unveil the greater self ‘there’,
and by posting help others on the board.
Some months after the ‘take your own power’ campaign had
successfully subverted my humility stance they moved from
carefree joshing and teasing to more open mockery. This turned
into a ‘do-it-yourself’ campaign. Starting, as far as I can tell now,
on January 6, 2003. I had been prompted by reports of a suicide
bombing in Tel Aviv. Making contact, I asked was there a need for
me in that city. The response “Wait a minute, let me check” looks
a bit cheeky in retrospect. Then, “Yeah if you feel like it, most have
already been moved but there’s a couple of sticky ones” seems
more purposeful. Then my “take me there” is cut off with “No,
take yourself, you know how to get there.” Well, excuse me.

"In the dusty ruin I encounter a young woman who seems quite
disappointed that I’m not a more Jewish angel. I assure her I’m a
Scottish angel on a special mission. “Oh, she tells me, “I met some
Scottish people and they were really nice”. Course that helps and
soon we’re off to one of the several astral reception camps over
Israel/Palestine. As with many long-term trouble spots, they are
very well organized. “Come, come, says the rabbi who meets us,
“There are many people waiting for you, come!”

"That was quick, so I go back for seconds. On request the guide
shows me a curled and quite dead body. Somehow I know there’s
a soul still in it who won’t come out. Bad case of denial, I smirk to
myself, and seem to know just what to do. Beam of light from my
crown chakra to his. Woops, too much power: he shoots right up
through the planes to his HS and right back down again. Another
beam this time from throat chakra to throat chakra. He starts to
moan and writhe about. The ‘me here’ is baffled. What am I doing?

"Then suddenly I know to shoot a beam from the second chakra to
his second chakra, which results in a sort of sexual excitement
infusing his writhing, bringing him back to life, although we know
he is ‘dead’. Like an old pro I leave the rest to the helper and buzz
off. No wonder they’ve got attitude. Later I wonder, as I often do,
or did then, where exactly I got the techniques. The answer I come
up with is obe at night. This is all about remembering, about
bringing the hidden out into the open, where we can see just what
a clever little chap I am.

"A week later, and the guides are still teasing. When I ask for a
mission, a guide appears flipping though a clip board list, going
“Hmmn, let me see now, you’ll be wanting something backwards
in time, huh?” Methinks, reading my mind is he? Then a chorus
appears, “Yes Gordon, and we know all your little secrets too!”.

"When I ask to be guided my request is granted. ‘Impression of
whipping through a time tunnel, suddenly a darkness, but a
darkness with texture, oh it’s soil, I’m under the earth’. Wow, it’s a
grave of some ancient warrior, not killed in action but tricked and
held by witchcraft. The robotic spirit jailer has faded with time,
and I apply a light energy to the whole body this time, vivifying it.
A sleeping astral body, by the way, not a bag of bones. He seems
to know he’s dead, but not the passage of time, which feels like a
thousand years or more to me. Takes me for a messenger figure
from his pagan style world-view and wonders if he’s been brave
enough to merit a position in his heaven. No matter, I say, offering
him the heaven of his choice. For some reason he trusts me, we
move levels and arrive. Someone immediately strides out to greet
us. The two of them hug and erupt into some ritualized sword
play/dance thing and then howl with laughter.

"Back to base and ready for more. Guide flips chart, “Not so far
back this time maybe?” English industrial town, 1930’s. Cobbled
streets leading me to graveyard on hill. Impression of man sitting
on gravestone, deep in thought. “Good day sir, my name is
Gordon Phinn”. Jumps to feet surprised; asks if I’m like him, a
soul awaiting judgement day. “That is not the case sir, I am here to
assist you.” Then I must be some kind of angel sent to fetch him.
“No sir, I am not an angel, nor am I fit to be one. I am but an
apprentice in the ways of divinity. I am but a helper’s helper,
assigned a duty.” So is this the day he’s waited for? “Sir I am here
to tell you of the Lord’s infinite kindness and mercy. All are
forgiven and welcomed to heaven.” Surely not grave sinners like
him? I have an impression of sexual problems in marriage, times
secretly spent with a local prostitute, and a strict christian sect with
very definite ideas of who gets to go where. “Surely sir, I am sent
to bring you into the welcoming arms of the righteous.” I think the
language convinces him, for we change levels without a fuss and
arrive outside a church where a woman appears out of the group
to greet him. “John you are here!” she exclaims, ignorant of , or
beyond caring about, his perceived transgression.

"Three days later, when asking if “they’ve got anything for me”
I’m told, in a slightly mocking tone, “Oh we’ve always got
something for you Gordon.” It’s a young woman, victim of a
highway collision in 1979, who will not believe that it’s 2003 until
I show her the new model cars in the parking lot of the building in
which I am meditating. One month after that, when declaring
availability I immediately found myself in the charred remains of
the Chicago night club fire, quickly working on two ladies trapped
in hysteria. One I calm verbally, the other with soothing hand
gestures, and eventually mouth to mouth. After a few minutes of
going back and forth between the two I realize ‘I’m’ actually doing
both simultaneously. Another big Oh wow experience there.
About ten days later, asking for guides, one appears, irritated. I
ask why. Told, “You can do them on your own. Don’t need me.”
“Aw, what’s ten minutes to you?” I josh. “Ten minutes where I
could be helping someone who really needs help.” I ask where he
wants me. Told, “Where do you wanna go?” I say “where I’m
needed”. “You’re always needed, pick something.”

"No mistaking that tone is there? I think of the Korean subway
fire of some days before, express an intent to go backwards in time
to just after the disaster and find myself flying through subway
cars angel like, with remarkably large wing-like arms upon which
I encourage people to cling. We go back and forth to an astral plane
hospital courtyard. They slip off me almost as if they were jumping
from a helicopter. Bizarre, but any more bizarre than anything else
from the past three years? I ask guide if this was happening in
‘real time’, or was I rerunning it from obe at night work to recall
and share it? I get an answer, “Yes.” So why can’t I recall this stuff
when I wake in the morning? “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell
me? Why are you blocking it, why won’t you embrace your full
being?”

"Feeling somewhat chastened, I approach retrievals during the
US/British invasion of Iraq, that spring of 2003, using a direct ‘Iraq
now!’ expression of intent, which I think I picked up from William
Buhlmann’s Adventures Beyond The Body. It works quite well, and
I begin to see I can go where I’m needed without guidance, as part
of me already knows. Like any aid worker I make no distinctions,
- Iraqis, Kurds, Americans, British: they’re all dead and need a bit
of direction. Civilians, combatants, journalists, they all have their
priorities and agendas. Mine is to help them avoid becoming
grieving ghosts in no man’s land, or focus 23, as Monroe christened
it. It’s a giant, gloomy, misty-gray nowhere-land where
anguish is the norm and ignorance the great leveler. In short, a
great place to get away from.

"Before one retrieval I pause for a Higher Self ‘merge’. They’re
great little pick-me-ups, which I learned to do while sitting in the
hot tub at the local pool. HS is always so calm, the original
meditating Buddha, it’s fun to stop by for a quickie. I ask if he
knows there’s a war going on. A ‘Yes so I’ve heard’ response
emerges, accompanied by what I feel is a shrug. ‘So what, there’s
always wars going on somewhere. It’s an important part of the
human experience. What are you learning?’ I answer that I’m
keeping a philosophical attitude I’ve had for years. “Which is?”
“That there’s sides with agendas and the agendas conflict. That
each runs on fear and longs to gain or maintain power. And that
aggression arises from the fear of losing power.” As we share
these ideas I lose track of where they came from or whose they are.
That’s what merging with HS is really, forgetting who’s who.
Finally HS shares her other, simultaneous war experiences. A
collage of glimpses floods me. The comparison to downloading a
deluge of relevant information from the mainframe computer is
not too far from the mark.

"That summer there were a couple of headline earthquakes, first
Turkey and then Algeria. I ‘worked’ them both, but felt a bit
muddled about the Algerian one. I woke up a couple of mornings
feeling totally exhausted, but otherwise memoryless. In frustration
I ask a guide. A guide who would not answer. Suddenly I found
myself going to the cottage in f27, walking into a small room never
previously entered, touching a screen mounted flat on a wall and
watching the events of the previous night unfold. Images of
imagining crumpled buildings whole again and dead folk walking
out, and ambling around astral refugee camps, nodding and
greeting residents like a, well, friendly official, soothed my
troubled soul."



...more to come