Saturday, September 10, 2011

Crystal Eyes of 9/11

It is difficult being in this city right now—for the past few days, the tension in the air has been slowly increasing until it's palpable. I have been faithful to my vow to not have a television or radio on, to turn away from any form of news media. One of my offices is but three blocks from Ground Zero; most of my friends who still live near there are experiencing re-emergence of the PTSD that has continued to haunt them these past ten years. I could not walk in the area yesterday without the constant feeling of the need to weep. A patient looked from me to the brilliant clear blue sky out the window and then back to me, commenting how exactly like that exquisitely beautiful day it was, and did I remember? None of us can stop remembering, I answered. A beautiful Indian Summer's day in September has crystallized in our living collective memory as a symbol of sudden leaving and unexplained loss. Each and every one of us now has that crystalline look of the purest blue in our eyes—frozen, cloudless, clear, and unfathomably sad; we all recognize one another by our motionless gaze. There is no language; there are no words; there are only eyes of crystal that cannot stop seeing.

In remembrance of 9/11, the following excerpt is taken from The Risen's Chapter 19: Liberation Dramas:
"From my journal:
     “September 12, 2001 . . . terribly long and horror-filled past 24 hours. Frustrated and afraid . . . no phone service, trying to track down friends who worked in or near the towers . . . exhausted, slept with difficulty. Each time as I began to fall asleep, I was assailed by mental noises of destruction, explosions, vast rumblings, and by the memory of the military planes that shrieked over the city all day long yesterday.
    “I tried to nap . . . at some point I must have finally drifted off . . . and found myself in a smoke-filled area. I couldn’t see the sky nor could I tell if I was inside or outside. The evidence of total chaos was everywhere—massive piles of stone and metal and chunks of concrete all around, as high as 30-story buildings. At first I saw what I thought was snow, but then realized were countless, minute pieces of paper, dust, and fabric falling and swirling all about. I felt that at any minute I would be overwhelmed by it all and could feel myself being pulled back into my body on the bed.
    “I heard the cries of men somewhere beyond in the clouds of smoke and dust. Six or seven firefighters appeared out of the swirling cloud. In spite of the dirt and filth all about them they appeared perfectly clean, even their helmets and coats. They were holding onto each other as if afraid to take a step in any direction. Most of them were crying and groaning, calling out in despair, not in any intelligible words, just sobs of distress.
    “Although I couldn’t sense anyone else around me other than this frightened group of men, somehow I knew exactly what to do. One of them began screaming, “There are still people in there! For God’s sake, we have to find them!” His screams frightened his companions all the more and they began to panic. I feared they might run back off into the nothingness and I would lose them. I stepped forward and grabbed the one that seemed to be strongest in character and pulled him into my arms to calm him with the serenity I knew always dwelled within me. I held him at arm’s length and looked into his eyes, which were rolling wildly about, like an animal that knows death is all around. He never once questioned my presence. I shook him gently to get his attention, and firmly said that I would show them the way out. ‘To the people?’ he asked, meaning the people he believed to be trapped, and I answered, ‘To the people who are waiting for you, yes, this way!’ I turned, and taking his hand, told him to take the hand of the man next to him, and to tell that person to do the same to the man closest to him, and so on until we were all connected in a human chain.
    “I had led them only a few steps forward when a large fire engine materialized out of nowhere. It looked absolutely brand new and shiny, totally unaffected by any of the disaster surrounding us. A beautiful golden light glowed on it from some unseen source. ‘There!’ I cried, ‘There is your truck, get in it now!’ The looks on their faces! They still didn’t understand that they had died and so couldn’t comprehend how a fire engine of such new and immaculate appearance could come out of nowhere. ‘Don’t be afraid,’ I spoke loudly but gently and with total assurance. ‘You don’t have time to think about this, just get in and go!’ I held one of the doors open for them, and then opened another. Somehow they managed to get in without any protests, although they were all sobbing like little children by that point. When the last one was in I shut all the doors behind them and shouted, ‘Drive straight ahead!’ I suddenly felt myself pulled away with great force, as if a rope were tied around my waist, and I was back in my bed, weeping from the intensity of the experience. After a short while I forced myself to get up and write down all I could remember.
    “A little later that afternoon, still deeply disturbed by the events and not feeling rested in any way, I tried napping again and immediately left my body as soon as it relaxed. This time I found myself in what appeared to be some kind of shopping center, perhaps a clothing shop, which had the same war-torn appearance of the environment I had been in earlier with the firefighters. There was the feeling here of being buried alive, as if a great pressure was above and all around me. There was not the total darkness one would assume, but instead everything seemed lit by a dim, grayish phosphorescence. There was also a choking, god-awful smell.
    “I found a woman lying on her side. When I touched her she jumped up with a start, eyes darting madly, mouth open as if wanting to scream but unable to take in any air. I held her hand tightly, for she seemed to want to run away. Another woman and two men ran up to us, crying and gesturing. Without warning they all stopped moving and became completely silent. Their eyes glazed over as if they could no longer see. I couldn’t tell if they were even breathing, and could only assume they had gone into some kind of deep shock, overcome by utter fear and hopelessness.
    “As I helplessly watched, each began to shrink in size and in an instant they were children. They were no longer catatonic but became animated with terror, caught in a nightmare from which they began to shriek for their mommies and daddies to come save them. Whereas a moment before I had hoped that I could somehow reach these poor souls in their adult forms, it was now impossible to contain the hysteria that had broken out amongst them like some contagious disease. I tried to get them to pay attention to me, because I somehow knew that there was an escalator nearby which would take them into the awaiting arms of Risen Ones who would help them. But they ran away screaming and crying into the pitch-blackness that had now descended upon us. I awoke in my bed, heart pounding and breaking from the agony I knew to be theirs, and from my frustration at not being able to help a group of terrified children.”
Although the firefighters were mortally frightened, their years of intensive training, immense courage, and inestimable love and loyalty for one another had contributed to their ability to remain fairly stabilized and clear-headed, even under this unimaginably horrible circumstance. Death had never been far from their day-to-day lives. Surely, each and every one of them had privately thought about, and discussed late into many nights with one another, the probability of their deaths in such a dangerous profession. On that day duty called and they answered without hesitation. And when a Higher Duty called, they hesitated only briefly and then responded to the voice of authority they recognized—as voiced through me in order to guide them to their new destiny. The new fire engine was something they recognized with great familiarity and saw as a source of safety and a symbol of sanity amidst the total chaos. I am so very grateful to those unseen guides and guardians who materialized this symbol of security at the crucial moment.
    I was never able to find my way back to the poor souls who had reverted to their child selves, overwhelmed by the most primitive of human fears of being completely abandoned. They had regressed like this as a kind of psychological defense against all monsters, in hopes that their parents would burst into the room and hold them soothingly, ending the nightmare.
    I was only one of innumerable astral rescuers involved in this world-shattering event. Mediums and channelers, psychic healers, and sensitive persons all around the world answered the calls of spirit distress from the thousands who died in a few moments that day. Knowing this, I also know that all the victims of that event were eventually rescued. A few of the transitioning individuals understood exactly what was happening, but most did not, due almost entirely to the fact that our culture does not widely accept the truth of survival after death. Most were left unprepared for what could have been the most exciting day of their earthly lives. Instead, it became the most traumatic.
    The prayers sent winging to them from all corners of the globe helped them all immensely. The spontaneous candle-lit ceremonies that sprang up on streets and in parks in every earthly community, and the emotionally intense rituals and ceremonies that were planned with great loving care, all contributed to bringing light and clarity into the fear-darkened minds of the fallen. They were enabled to find strength and eventually find their way to the comforting arms of their Risen families and loved ones awaiting them.
    “I was also instantly drawn there, August, as if by a magnet. The emotional distress arising from that great city was a visual and audible explosion of fear, as much from those still embodied as from those who were instantly displaced from their physical forms. Billions upon billions of Risen Ones, countless light beings from other species and other dimensions, the highest of angelic creatures and elementals from water, earth, wind, and flame, entities that have never known what it is to be embodied, and even the vast, deep spirit of Mother Earth—all were instantly summoned to that one tiny spot of fixed location but inestimable value, to lend help to ensure that not one soul would be lost for very long. I assure you that all the souls were eventually brought to the surface of consciousness—some sooner than others, but not a single one went unfound. This was because of the intense wave upon wave of uplifting, positive light-filled emotion, the combined love of all their earthly siblings that washed over them with healing and living light, raising their vibrations until they could see and hear their new Reality as it knelt down to greet them and welcome them Home.”
    “Indeed, Tim, the world changed more in those few hours than it had in the past century, offering humanity the chance to make leaps in quantum qualities that could bring mass-consciousness to a new level of understanding. Each individual consciousness was challenged to either revert back to primitive reactions of fear, hatred, anger, and revenge, or to open and join hearts and hands to find the greater response of love within. It’s obvious to many that a new foundation of love was begun that day. This speaks to a cosmic arrangement of the greatest yet subtle and mysterious complexity that is beyond the conceptual abilities of the human mind, but not beyond the human heart when it comes to joining and supporting. Humanity was catapulted into a greater reality, which reflects the even Greater Reality into which those newly Risen ones eventually found themselves.”
For a little more detail about this rescue event, go here.

In Progress: "Risen on Earth": Risen Weather

(The following is part of an on-going series of entries from the raw material that is being transmitted by the Risen Assembly, and discerned by August and Tim, and may be finding its way into their next book, Risen On Earth.)(© Tempestina Teapot Books 2011)
How, then, I wondered, am I to relay what they have taught me into our symbolic terrestrial language, which seeks to overlay structures of control? Seeing my dilemma, they suggested that I begin with the concepts of weather and seasons, with the idea that such states are complex, many-layered, fluid, dynamic, and alive. This made much sense to me, because that is how the Risen way of being and living seem to me. They know this quite clearly, as evidenced in the way I’ve noticed they often answer the questions of sitters at mediumistic sittings.

The Risen do have weather and seasons, which begin as emotional and mental events, and then manifest as physical ones – all interweaving and interflowing in such ways as to be seamless and therefore instantaneous. Viewed from a “distance” (another word that loses meaning with the Risen) I’ve often thought I was looking at some kind of crop circle in progress.

Tossing my own attempts at organizing the vast amounts of material I’ve gleaned from my relationships with the Risen into the wind, I let it all enter, freely flowing, to organize itself. When the dust finally settled, the results are now beginning to coalesce into this book, which seems to be about seasons of the heart and mind. One of my Risen companions refers to the book as a “map,” and at my request, helped me understand this with a diagram, which I suppose is a map in its own way, of the spiral of our journey from one season to the next.
(© Tempestina Teapot Books 2011)