Ta, luv, my China Charlie.

I had begun to think I was being too picky, unable to find something at Netflix worth watching, even with what little time I have these days. Tim and I always liked anything British (except he found Monty Python unfunny for some funny reason) so it was nice to find something I'd never seen before and which looked promising -- the late 70's BBC Series, The Dutchess of Duke Street.

I sometimes think I should have been born in Edwardian times, and was immediately entranced by everything about it — the set, the characters, the blurry camera work from overlighting that typified such made-for-tv stuff in those days; I felt comfy and cozy. I loved the strange Edwardian phrases, like "poodle-faker," "divvy dancing," and "you can stick it where the monkey put the nuts." I zipped through the first set of 3 episodes and just finished the second set last night, happy that there were many more to come.

From his first appearance, I fell in love with the character Lord Charles (Charlie) Tyrell, He was an aristocrat, eventually to be Lord Haslemere, and I, too, became another of his conquests, enchanted by his looks and his down to earth but sophisticated manner. Christopher Cazenove, the English actor who played this role, (and also known for a major role on Dynasty) was himself a fairly sophisticated person with his own aristocratic roots. He reminded me in many ways of Tim, who had also had a bit of an acting career, but more so because of certain mannerisms, the devilish ne'er-do-well bloke, always looking on the bright side.

And I found that I couldn't stop thinking about this character - I was really smitten quite hard. He seemed "to be with me" off and on as I went about my days, and while I didn't question this seeming obsession — and rather enjoying it — he was never far from my mind. Finally, after finishing the 5th episode last evening, I decided to slow down the speeding credits at the end and find out who this dashing fellow was, and upon learning it was Christopher,Cazenove, naturally googled him.

I was astonished and then experienced what can truly be called un frissonnement, overcome by sudden shivers and sadness upon learning that Christopher Cazenove had transitioned a little more than 2 weeks ago on April 7, at the age of 66, from a quick battle against septicaemia, more often known as blood poisoning. Reportedly, he contracted the infection at the end of February after complaining of migraines during a business trip to California. On his return to the UK, he was treated at St Thomas's Hospital, in London, where he died on April 7.

What especially hit me was that his date of transition was the same day that I had put the first episode of The Duchess of Duke Street in my Netflix queue. Through tears, I whispered a prayer of luck and well being for him, the same one I do for everyone: "May your soul rest in peace, and everlasting light shine upon you." And then I watched the third and final show on the DVD, and went to bed.

In bed, in the dark, with Fiona and McHenry snuggled up tightly next to me, I continued to sadly ponder the how's and why's of this bit of a spirit mystery. Was I so tuned into this person I'd never met for a reason, or rather, maybe he was tuned in to me? At that point I felt yet another overwhelming emotional surge of feelings about this person, and began crying. "What?" I asked. Silence and purring were the only answers.

Just as I was drifting off to sleep, entering that in-between state, I clearly heard a voice say: "You better get that finger seen to now if you don't want to get the blood rot." I lay there for a few seconds, not comprehending what that meant. As I began to drift back to a fully waking state, I realized the middle finger on my right hand was throbbing with a bit of a burning sensation, and then remembered that a few hours earlier I had jammed the finger against the kitchen window sill while trying to grab and rescue a jar from falling, and gotten a sliver or some such schmutz jammed under the finger nail for my efforts. I didn't pay much attention to it, and I have the ability to dissociate from my body (not surprising for a medium) and any pain it might have (other than headaches) so had been ignoring it up to that point. But damn, it was hurting, and as I turned on the light to go tend to it, it suddenly hit me who it was who had been hanging about in order to prevent another early tragedy.

Ta, luv, my China Charlie.

Quamobrem "The Risen"?

A question we often get, which is kind of unexpected, is why or how the words or term "The Risen" came about. I (August) never know quite how to answer it, as it just made itself known in its own ways, and was not my invention. Maybe because it does sound a bit serious or even grim, so Tim and I do a little joshing about it with one another in one of the dialogues in the book. But I was slightly astonished to come across the following in a chapter of Mike Tymn's new book, The Articulate Dead, which lends an eerie validation to the term, on p. 72.

To paraphrase —

Frederick W.H. Myers, one of the founders of the Society for Psychical Research, and a medium himself, had transitioned in 1901. Naturally, many people from all over the world wanted to be the ones to establish contact with such an influential person to support the agenda for survival. Four months later, Oliver Lodge and his wife were sitting with the medium Rosalie Thompson, after contacting Myers via Rosalie's trance voice. The spirit Edmund Gurney, who had worked with Myers as a fellow SPR member, and had transitioned some time earlier, was assisting FWH Myers with his transition and also came through. At this sitting, Gurney said said that too many people were trying to contact Myers after his recent transition and that he needed rest: "What we want now for him is to rise, and to forget earthly things." Gurney goes on to explain that Myers was overwhelmed from all the attempts at contacting him, which was forcing him to remain close to the earth, or "earthbound", which was hindering his transition - or, as Tim and I would say, "to become fully and healthily Risen."

Here is interesting support and possible validation of the use of the concept and phrase "Risen" in terms of transition.

Organ Donations as Gifting

Mike Tymn, of White Crow Books presents an interesting question and topic:

"August & Tim — I would appreciate your thoughts as to whether there are any negative effects relative to organ transplants, i.e., either the organs being removed before the soul, whichever body you choose to call it, separates from the physical shell or the donated organs causing the soul of the donor to be held earthbound because of some kind of attachment to the recipient. As you may know, there is an old rule of thumb stating that the body should not be disturbed for three days. Raymond Lodge supposedly told his father that cremation should not take place for five or six days. If you discussed this at all in your book, I don't recall it."

Generally, there should be no problem if the departing spirit has truly left the body and its organs, not only physically, but mentally and emotionally. Our current overall global society has all but abandoned the practice of ritual in most aspects of human societal development, but not that of continuing to form deeply embedded, emotional beliefs. In cases of formal organ donation, while this is actually in itself a ritualized practice based on giving permission, not everyone involved may necessarily be fully committed to it, consciously or not. If the body and its organs have not been fully released, the departing spirit may still be "hanging on" to them, or thinking about them, causing wisps of energy to still cling to them, the energy of which may affect them in various ways - including imbuing them with memory fragments. If there is one, the belief system may inform how to resolve this, such as how many days to wait, the methods of body disposal, etc. The act of organ donation is that of giving - and gifts must be offered fully and freely with no expectations. So the practice of "sky burial" — placing a body on the mountain rocks for the vultures and other animals, is a powerful act of gifting, symbolizing the cultural acknowledgment that the physical body was temporarily given to us, while offering nourishment back as thanks to other living beings, which is a reflection of our connection to Creator Source who gave freely to us that we might have life.

For example, Tibetans believe that he spirit of the deceased is more important than the body. Following death, the body should not be touched for three days, except possibly at the crown of the head, through which the consciousness, or namshe, exits. Lamas guide the spirit in a series of prayers that last for seven weeks, as the person makes their way through the bardo—the intermediate states that precede rebirth. [Interestingly, so many deaths occurred from recent earthquakes in China that there are too many bodies for the vultures at one Tibetan Monastery; alternate arrangements are being made for mass cremation.]

The primary message here is that Mind is very powerful, the most powerful thing a human has, and as a species we have lost the understanding of this. Some are beginning to wake up, which the Risen describe as a return to the conscious awareness of Authentic Self.