(Hey guys.  Just had this over the last half hour or so.  Feeling a little skeptical about this one; it has an unusually high level of detail for me, to the point where the Interpreter is wondering whether it was my imagination or not.  Was getting some interesting physical sensations while writing it, though; some pressure in the centre of my chest, and a fair amount of energy I think, so maybe it is real.  Anywayz, see what you think.  This is a memory of something happening after I'd fallen asleep one day.  Not sure exactly when, but presumably recently.)

After falling asleep, I drifted up and out, and on looking over next to the bed, momentarily gasped.

I'd had a statue of Bhadra Kali in my bedroom for probably 6-8 months now; I couldn't remember exactly when I'd got it.  Yet now, here was Mother, (or as Bruce would perhaps say, an aspect of her) standing in front of the wall, and this was certainly no statue.  It was too much; I felt overwhelmed and didn't get a lot of detail, but I did get a sense of immense size, her dark skin, and abundant hair.  On looking at her, the smile she gave me was calm, with perhaps just a touch of mischief, and I couldn't help but grin back.  More seriously, I then lowered my eyes, bowing to her respectfully, projecting love to her and receiving some of her familiar warm, velvety energy in return, and flew off.

I wanted to head back to the underground part of the World Trade Center.  After being reminded of it again for some reason, I wanted to see if anyone was still buried underneath it.  I knew it had been a while and most of the spirits there had probably been cleared out, but...I just had a feeling that there were some still there.

In the gloom, I could sense several presences.  I'd been here before, but the one thing that I hadn't got here in the past was anger.  Somehow, some of them, or someone else here, (maybe Helpers, but for some reason they usually mask themselves from me; I can generally feel them, but I think they know I work better alone) knew how the government had been working in C1 to cover up the real cause of the incident, and what I was feeling there now was real fury, to the point where it was intimidating.  I sensed that it was coming from more than one person, as well.

I got that these people had agreed before being born to be part of the WTC incident, and that the incident itself wasn't what they were upset about; they had agreed to go through it because they felt that in time, it would be the catalyst for much needed social and political change.  What they were angry about was the fact that because the truth of what caused the incident was partially being repressed, although their part had been carried out, because the eventual positive change possibly could not occur, the spiritual contract that they had made might not be met.

For some reason I locked onto one of the presences in particular.  A white male in his late 60s with short grey/blonde hair; quite a strongly built man.  He was close to hysterical, and was calling out.  He apparently wasn't aware of the others present, so I figured F23, lower etheric.  We were pretty close to physical space, here.

"Is there anyone there?  Someone help me!"

The picture coalesced into a basement or underground area.  There was some broken concrete around, and a stalled escalator leading up somewhere.  I got that several of the other presences were also huddled around the thought forms of small, makeshift fires, but they seemed oblivious to my presence as well.  I thought the surface had been cleared, so didn't know how much of what I was seeing was physically real, and how much was thought form.  I got back some of both.

"It's ok, you're all right," I called back to the man.

"Oh, thank God," I got back.  "The whole place fell down, and somehow I ended up down here.  I've been trying to find my way out, but somehow I just can't seem to find my way."

I smiled, and was going to tell him he was dead, but got a very strong impression not to; that that would scare him.  The Helpers had made themselves a bit more visible to me now.  So instead, I gestured to the escalator.  As I did so, I noticed my clothing had changed; I had on a construction worker's hard hat with a light in it.

"It's taken us a while to dig down here," I said to the man.  "We finally carved out a straight enough shaft though that we were able to get this escalator working again."  As I said this, the escalator turned on and began moving.  "So you'll be able to use this to get back up.  You'll find an aid station when you get to the surface."

The man looked at me shrewdly, some skepticism, and I think, realisation of the true nature of his situation dawning on his face.  He got on the escalator, started riding it, but then looked back at me when he'd nearly reached the top.

"Hey," he called back down.  "I'm dead, aren't I?"

"Yep," I answered cheerfully.  "But once you get up there, you'll find out that being dead possibly doesn't mean what you think.  You're going to be just fine."

He smiled and visibly relaxed at that, and when I was sure he'd got to the top and had met with some other people, I rose back up and flew out.

betson wrote on Aug 24^th, 2008 at 9:40am:


Hey betson

It probably doesn't matter so much, no.  I just like noting any observations I get, either way.

betson wrote on Aug 24^th, 2008 at 9:40am:


I feel Kali nearly always helps, yes; although the main thing is in terms of guarding my body and my room when I go out, which I am very grateful for.

She may have also helped with focus as well, but I did feel that this man was ready to go as well, so I think he still would have.