gordon phinn
Full Member
Offline
Afterlife Knowledge Member
Posts: 193
toronto, canada
Gender:
|
Friends, hi, These two retrievals are as much contacts as anything, but are illustrative of the vast divergence in soul intelligence one encounters in this work. Again, polished up from notes for More Adventures.
gordon
"Further Contacts"
"With some of my own time to spare, I thought about Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, whose passing had been reported a few days before. Knowing something of her life work and writing I was not surprised to find her in a lovely astral version of the Swiss Alps, where sparkling light and beautiful vistas reflected the relative elevation of the souls in residence. Sensing one of those hemi-sync reruns of a longer nighttime visit, I walked through what felt like a media interview, and since I planned to report this on the radio, the slight formality as Elizabeth greeted me graciously in what I’m sure was a friend’s sitting room. Comfortably seated, we chatted in a format that must have replicated many an earthside interview.
"She reported that she was more than ready for her transition and made it easily. Spirit was even more wonderful that she had imagined. Tell people it’s well worth the long wait, she said. I assured her I would. She also asked that people send here the kind of love that would help her on her way rather than bind her to the past. I sensed she’d be moving up a level or two fairly soon, as much due to expectation as achievement. As we talked she emanated light, as an enlightened soul would do, but I could see she was still attached to her ‘Elizabeth’ character and would be for some while yet. Success, of course, can be as much of a trap as failure. It’s the degree of attachment which counts. Basically, the less the better. None, and you’re as free as a hot air balloon.
"Naturally, I said a lot about what a unique contribution she made and how much society owed her for her pioneering work. That death, or the discussion of it, was no longer such a taboo, was largely due to her efforts. With this she seemed almost as relieved as flattered. I understood: astral dwellers often care little for earthside reputations, and those thus attached can be somewhat crestfallen at the lack of reception.
"These two almost casually conceived contacts illustrate what was rapidly becoming the norm for me, as the expansion continued throughout the seasons of this volume’s composition. Earlier in the year, I’d worked on a couple of unusual retrievals which deserve some small mention. On March 22nd, it would appear, I had sought the spirit of the actor/film maker Spalding Gray, who, after weeks of suspicion and debate amongst his friends, had been found at the bottom of the East river, where he had apparently jumped in from a ferry, after months, if not years of depression brought on, they claimed, by the reduced capabilities resulting from a car accident. I had read his books and seen his films, and had a distinct hunch that his zen meditation experience, although valuable, had told him little about afterlife conditions. This, amongst members of my spiritually inclined generation, is not uncommon. Yoga, Zen, and a host of other fringe disciplines, though not without their benefits for body, mind and spirit, are as woefully inadequate as any of the mainstream religions in their paucity of useful information on eternity. Gurus, lamas, swamis, rishis can chatter endlessly about the void, the clear light, the pure land, the attaining of nirvana and the bliss of nothingness with varying degrees of felicity, but their legions of baby boomers followers are as ignorant as the average church-goer when it come to understanding the necessary illusions of the various spirit realms and how they function in the overall education of the embodied soul. The psychic communications of Spiritualism seem terribly fussy and old-fashioned to those brought up on Castaneda and Seth, but as navigational tools to the various realms they are, in fact, very useful.
"I found him in focus 23, sitting hunched over and looking gloomy. Using the trademark greeting Spalding man! Spalding man! (from Swimming to Cambodia) I acted cheerful and chatty. Told him I was a fan and wanted to help out. Intellectually I think he knew there must be an afterlife but didn’t realize his state of heart/soul would actually define his location/landscape. In that foggy area of f23 he seemed to be living on remorse and memories. I asked him what he thought of the society of aquatic life at the bottom of the river. He said something about it moving around a lot.
"After cracking some wiseass remarks, the kind he used to use in his own work, I grabbed his hands and got him up to play the children’s game “Ring around the rosie”, something I hadn’t thought of in years. You know, ‘A-tishoo, A-tishoo, we all fall down’, dancing around in a circle and then falling backwards on your ass and laughing hysterically? That seemed to loosen him up a bit. Knowing, from his book, that he’d always been affected by his mother’s suicide when a kid, and feeling his own remorse at leaving his kids behind, I asked if he’d like to go to a part of the afterlife where he could meet his mother and learn how to hook up with his kids. Worthiness issues came up, and also a bit of doubt (of the ‘Are you who you say you are?’ variety). I tried to convince him by joking around rather than being serious. I suspect others had been by before me, but he’d dismissed them as either fantasies or pests. Finally got him to hold my hands and accept the fact that we’d be changing dimensions. Told him to shut his eyes, but he kept opening and peeking! I had to laugh. Told him the journey might be disorienting if he kept them open. Probably the wrong thing to say to a joker like that. He obviously liked teasing me on the issue.
"Arriving at f27, the Park, he seemed mighty impressed. I told him he should just walk about and meet people, that there were lots like him, not to worry, that nobody would really give a toot how he got there. Told him the food was really good, sushi the best ever. Then explained how he could image his family here and visit by expressing the desire to do so and then come back to the Park by imaging it. Warned him not to get caught up in family emotions or he’d get stuck like a ghost. Gave him a big hug, which he seemed to enjoy, and told him I’d be back to help out if he needed it. Then kind of pushed him away with my hand as if to say ‘On you go, get started now!’ and disappeared.
"Not long later I had a similar experience with Canadian political activist and former Toronto mayoralty candidate Tooker Gomberg, who like many young energetic idealists, run out of steam and into depression when the corruption of the world will not yield to their enthusiasm. Another drowning. I found him wandering through the homes of his friends, like some sweet but ignored puppy, not long after his memorial service, which as they often do, surprised him with its spontaneous outpourings of respect and love. He seemed to know little, and care less, of afterlife conditions, but I somehow convinced him that moving on would be smarter than hanging around. Though his state of rueful retrovision and remorse was similar to Spalding’s, he was easier to convince, and I deposited him at f27 without much further ado."
...more to come...
|