tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202445082024-03-27T19:14:18.916-04:00The RisenDialogues of Love, Grief, & Survival Beyond Death —
21st Century Reports from the Afterlife through Contemplative, Intuitive, & Physical Mediumship.August Goforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06748210350055902472noreply@blogger.comBlogger532125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20244508.post-5493755931503253682023-12-24T14:53:00.000-05:002023-12-25T16:01:46.055-05:00From The Archives: Winter Solstice ~ Beauty in The Darkness<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
FROM THE ARCHIVES (orig. published 12/20/20)</div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcBFrsdNT5Kt8Ut7ToRPtNvRHdhxZXkw9cDPw8c-73-xXS9Sk9-bRTwMxdT9K8kGn9HCeaYLnyszUxbJ_fNe2okgNu7EJZmEhDBSmUkthCEKXGtfiqka2pWPVUSg6k-R4GdRSP/s1600/15.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcBFrsdNT5Kt8Ut7ToRPtNvRHdhxZXkw9cDPw8c-73-xXS9Sk9-bRTwMxdT9K8kGn9HCeaYLnyszUxbJ_fNe2okgNu7EJZmEhDBSmUkthCEKXGtfiqka2pWPVUSg6k-R4GdRSP/s400/15.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Milioni di Orvs</i> ~ "Millions of Orbs"</span><br />
© <span style="font-size: small;">photo by Shannon Taggart, Sardinia 2015</span></td></tr>
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______________________________________<br />
<br />
“In the midst of winter, I finally learned<br />
that there was in me an invincible summer.”</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
~ Albert Camus ~</div>
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The small mediumship circle that I sit with recently had some
development with the two trumpets that are a regular part of the sitting. We
always align them with specific positions where they rest on the floor, in a
way that shows a particular point on them faces direct North. This is to
associate them with the glass dome that rests on a table in the center of the
circle, and which holds 5 “Herkimer Diamond” quartz crystals, four of which are
aligned in a North/South/East/West configuration, while the larger, center crystal
is aligned with North/South. Although the trumpets have slightly moved before
in the quirky ways that Spirit likes to do, they have remained stationary for
many months. And lo! After the lights came on at the end of our last sitting,
we were startled to see that the trumpets had not only moved several inches
away from their positions, but each had rotated a perfect 45 degrees so that
they were now precisely facing East. Perceived more closely, their movement actually
outlines a small and gentle spiral. We have mused about this action for several
weeks now, wondering if this was some kind of message. My ponderings led me to a
long-forgotten reminiscence, which then led to this writing … so perhaps this
was our Spirit Team’s intention all along. Or at least part of it, for another
message always there is that Spirit moves in mysterious ways</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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I found myself immersed in one of my most cherished memories
of childhood Christmases—that of my grandmother playing and singing “Star of
The East” on the timeworn upright piano in her parlor. I was likely no more
than five years old. The fragrant scotch pine in the corner was alight with
large, old-fashioned bulbs, and wrapped in many narrow garlands of silver
tinsel that was made from actual tin. It was also encircled by strings of
popcorn and cranberries some of my cousins had made for it. Resting peacefully
on top of the piano was a tiny cardboard village of houses and a church with snow-capped
roofs, illuminated by tiny lights inside.<o:p></o:p></div>
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A medium herself—albeit a timid, reluctant one—my Grandma was completely untrained and couldn't read music, yet somehow just knew how to play the
piano with great accomplishment. She never had a voice lesson in her life either, but still sang with
complete abandon to the spirit of the song. I had never seen or heard this side
of her before, and became completely entranced by Spirit as she sang.<o:p></o:p></div>
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This <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M8OGVGxTUCc" target="_blank">shortbut enchanting video</a> of a Mennonite family singing it at their kitchen
table comes close to capturing the sense of Spirit moving through voices raised
in song.</div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Star of
the East, Oh Bethlehem's star,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Guiding us
on to Heaven afar!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Sorrow and
grief and lull'd by thy light,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Thou hope
of each mortal, in death's lonely night!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Fearless
and tranquil, we look up to Thee!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Knowing
thou beam'st thro' eternity!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Help us to
follow where Thou still dost guide,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Pilgrims
of Earth so wide.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Star of
the East, un-dim'd by each cloud,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">What tho'
the storms of grief gather loud?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Faithful
and pure thy rays beam to save,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Still
bright o'er the cradle, and bright o'er the grave!</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Smiles of
a Saviour are mirror'd in Thee!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Glimpses
of Heav'n in thy light we see!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Guide us
still onward to that blessed shore,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">After
earth's toil is o'er!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Star of
the East, thou hope of the soul,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">While
round us here the dark billows roll,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Lead us
from sin to glory afar,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Thou star
of the East, thou sweet Bethlehem's star.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Oh star
that leads to God above!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Whose rays
are peace and joy and love!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Watch o'er
us still till life hath ceased,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Beam on,
bright star, sweet Bethlehem star!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;">~ Lyricist George Cooper, 1890.
Music Amanda Kennedy, 1883. ~<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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There has been an unprecedented amount of fear on this planet
for quite some time, especially this past year. This hymn soothes us with the
promise that the storms of grief cannot dim the promise of the Star of the
East, and that we can rest assured that our fears will fade and our hearts
return to the true tranquility that is the birthright of each and every person
on this planet.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Purposely focusing our consciousness into an increasing
mindless circling of fearful thinking will intensify the mindlessness and the
fear, a downward spiraling that takes us further and further away from the
light of pure, unafraid consciousness. This descent into mental darkness is not
only unnecessary, it is a denial of the Light, which is All There Is.
“Darkness” is but a misperception caused by certain beliefs that become the veils
we place or allow to be placed over our spiritual vision. Because we think we
cannot see anymore, we decide that we are “lost.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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And because we have also decided that we are powerless—another
belief of misperception—we allow ourselves to be pulled further into the
mindless darkness until we hit a kind of bottom, where we black out in some
psychospiritual way. “Psychospiritual” means inwardly and privately
experienced, but not necessarily outwardly, physically observable. The
misperception, a “mis-seeing” has often been referred to as “sin”—a word whose
roots mean “missing the target.” Not just missing the bull’s-eye, but missing
the entire target altogether. Of course, how could we aim our intentions of
good, for a life of well-being, if we cannot see because of the veils we have
allowed to fall over our spiritual eyes? The center of the target is none other
than our Self, and is our direct awareness of Self-Divinity. Not being able to
connect with the center of our self-intention also increases the sensations of helplessness
and hopelessness. The joy of being Centered seems lost forever. We then begin
to tell this story of darkness over and over until it becomes etched into our
brain, like the grooves of a vinyl record, or the magnetic impressions on a
computer disc, and our story of everlasting life has now been turned into one
that includes the belief in an inevitable darkness and death.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Ancient people drew a correlation between this inner,
psychospiritual descent into darkness and their outer material experience of
our planet’s seeming withdrawal from the light, culminating in the winter’s
solstice. They also noticed that this shortest day of the year—the “bottom”—did
not go on forever but then began to become illuminated once again by the Sun’s
return. The Sun had never actually abandoned them; it had been there all the
time. But because of their seemingly stationary position on a seemingly
unmoving Earth, it only appeared as if the Light had deserted them. They had
mistakenly placed the evidence of their physical experience over the evidence of
their spiritual understanding, forgetting that the Light is always there,
always available. The joy of living had become the worry of uncertainty and the
fear of death. All along, there was beauty in the darkness. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Certain wise souls amongst these ancient people saw how
quickly we can forget about the Light by our increasingly paying attention to,
or focusing on, the contrasting play of light as it differentiates our world of
forms, which we label as “shadows” and “darkness.” When it seems like a
situation becomes “less light” most people somehow quickly forgot that this doesn’t
mean the light is going away. It wasn’t so long ago when people even became
anxious when watching the sun leave them over the western horizon. Indeed, in
some cultures, it is still said that a person “goes West” when they transition
and relocate via the darkest shadow known as “death.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.1in 6pt 0in; text-align: justify;">
The ancient wise ones redirected everyone’s attention by pointing
outward and up, toward the horizon that was also always there before them. And
lo! There appeared a Star in the East, which had been rising all that time right
<i>behind</i> them, but they had been too
focused on watching the sun apparently abandoning them in the West. This star
was also referred to as “the Christ within us”—or in other words, The Forever-Risen Light,
or “the nonexistence of darkness.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.1in 6pt 0in; text-align: justify;">
As with all spiritual words that attempt to articulate
non-verbal spiritual truths, the word “Christ” is complex and meant to convey
a particular emotional energy that vibrates at a certain level. It is vibration
that conveys information to us not only through our physical senses which
interpret and manifest form, but also through our spiritual senses which
manifest that which is beyond form—but not separated from—the fullness of our
individual experience of Life.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.1in 6pt 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Christ” is a Greek word that means “The Anointed One.”
Anointing is a symbolic physical act of placing a little oil on someone’s
forehead, where the seat of consciousness was sometimes believed to reside. The
Greeks knew all about oil, especially that pressed from olives. The olives had
to be crushed in a labor-intensive procedure, and even then, the result was
still a bitter liquid, clouded by unwanted substances and contaminates, which
then had to be filtered out through even more rigorous labor. Who wouldn’t be
clouded by such bitterness after getting crushed by something seemingly more
powerful than us, and against our will? Who wouldn’t most likely resist
allowing that higher power to continue to mess around with us, filtering our
lives through ever-more refining life circumstances? Surrender my bitterness?
No way! Everyone knows, or should know, that life is nothing but a bitter bowl
of olives.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.1in 6pt 0in; text-align: justify;">
The good news that the wise ones might want to convey about
anointing is that we don’t have to go through a life-crushing process in order
to find relief. The pure oil—sweet, clear, and never bitter—has already been
prepared. In fact, it was always pure to begin with. No matter how often we
forget this, if we can find a way to remember it, which is letting ourselves be
touched or anointed by the purest of thoughts and feelings, the living of life
will become sweet once again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.1in 6pt 0in; text-align: justify;">
Material, earthly life often distracts us from the light and
sweetness of our spiritual existence. The sun, the moon, and the stars are
there to help us remember this. Let us set our intention to remember to look
outward and upward at least twice a day—once in the morning and again at night.
Know that even as we appear to be falling asleep, we are also waking up. The afterlife is not something that is going to happen—it is happening <i>now</i>. When
we can live more and more in the mindful awareness that our story is one of
never-ending awakening, we will become anointed by the ecstasy of our own
spirit, enjoined with The Cosmos, never to be separated unless that is what we
might want. And if that should be the case, may we rest in the knowing that
there will always be kind and watchful Helpers in Spirit, awaiting for us to
give them a sign that we are ready to wake up at any time.<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Dialogues of Love, Grief, & Survival Beyond Death — 21st Century Reports from the Afterlife through Contemplative, Intuitive, & Physical Mediumship.</div>August Goforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06748210350055902472noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20244508.post-45407860848148262802023-12-24T10:50:00.000-05:002023-12-25T16:01:57.457-05:00From The Archives: Cristes Mæsse<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
[First posted 12/24/10 - a reader recently wrote about finding it "evocative" . . . the summer, as least in this part of the world, is past its zenith, and before we know it, we will be crossing the threshold of a new year. Perhaps this previous post can continue to offer some reflection of who and where we are, in this moment.]<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyNspVzj3D5jDqFqFKnID6q4expWPbP4fXsRbuYmX5BH545HMmR1fpk2NMhQHYROyl3Maqpi415cR8ibH2tDLLJUP4vEeJeDoZeN7v4QnKoTB4hvkKxCHxdGvthBFIueoxmjW0/s1600/pines.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyNspVzj3D5jDqFqFKnID6q4expWPbP4fXsRbuYmX5BH545HMmR1fpk2NMhQHYROyl3Maqpi415cR8ibH2tDLLJUP4vEeJeDoZeN7v4QnKoTB4hvkKxCHxdGvthBFIueoxmjW0/s320/pines.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When the tips of the pines<br />
Touch the twinkling stars<br />
On the cold, crisp nights of December,<br />
May your blessings be more<br />
Than you've ever hoped for,<br />
And your Christmas a warmth to remember.<br />
<br />
~ <i>a poem on a card sent by Aunt Doris</i> ~</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
For some reason, as I began cooking this morning of Christmas Day Eve, I was impressed to put on a CD of Mozart's <i>Requiem Mass in D Minor</i> – a strange kind of music for Noël . . . nonetheless, it affects me deeply, evoking complex emotions, all tinged with sadness.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The turnips are peeled and roasting – my contribution towards tomorrow's cozy gathering of friends, coming together to celebrate many things – consciously aware living, loving, and sobriety. Together, we manifest and share a "field of gratitude" that spontaneously arises from our gathering together.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In <i>The Risen</i>, we explore the idea of "fields" – realities that interpenetrate our material one, and which we often can sense emotionally, psychologically, spiritually and even physically. This idea is practically no longer abstract, but is quickly becoming a realized fact by primarily quantum scientists, many inspired by theoretical biologist Rupert Sheldrake's understanding that there is no "inside" or "outside" to one's mind. It is further noted in <i>The Risen</i>:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<blockquote>
"Sheldrake suggests that memory is not stored in the brain, which is a kind of tuning system, rather than a device for storing memories. Our brain resonates within a morphic or morphogenic field. This resonance is a form-shaping field, an invisible organization structure wherein all experiential information is recorded and stored.<br />
"Morphogenic fields are patterns that structure our reality. Older, primal societies have been well aware that the forms of our experiences are shaped by something greater than us, and of which we are simultaneously a part. Modern, 'civilized' societies have contracted the mind into the idea that the mind exists only within the confines of our physical skulls."</blockquote>
<blockquote>
Sheldrake would likely agree with the idea of the spirit of a holiday—that it’s a morphic field containing the memories and rituals associated with that holiday. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Viewed from this perspective, the spirit within a human being resonates from within the larger spiritual morphogenic field. From their perspective, the Risen suggest that the so-called boundaries of any field are arbitrary and subject to one’s perceptual awareness, meaning that the fields are infinite in space and time. Thus, Risen fields interpenetrate non-Risen fields, which also interpenetrate." (pp. 137-138)</blockquote>
</div>
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In 21st century terms, this is "non-locality". Non-locality is one of several important principles of quantum physics, and has given rise to the concept of nonlocal space, explained by Pim van Lommel, MD as “ … a multidimensional space, with nothing but possibilities … and without certainties, without matter, and without a role for time and distance … (and) represents a hidden reality that, at the quantum level, exerts a continuous influence on our physical world, which is the complement of nonlocal space." While interpenetrating the local consciousness of the physical brain, non-local consciousness expands unbounded beyond it, and is believed by many to support perceptual reality. This concept underlies theories about after-life survival, remote viewing, and other out-of-body experiences. (From his book, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Consciousness-Beyond-Life-Near-Death-Experience/dp/0061777250/ref=sr_1_12/188-3742207-2231426?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1282816686&sr=8-12?ie=UTF8&tag=discinnepeac-20">Consciousness Beyond Life: The Science of the Near-Death Experience</a>, pp. 227-28) [<i>Highly recommended</i>.]</div>
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Mozart claimed that he heard the music in his head and that all he had to do was transcribe it; he did this in near-perfect notation in a very brief window of time. Van Lommel suggests that such creativity, inspiration, and sudden scientific insight might be explained by unconscious, or even conscious contact with non-local consciousness. His book explores in great detail how near-death experiences bring the person into contact with other fields of consciousness – other worlds – in this way.</div>
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It's clear to me that I'm experiencing "fields within fields" – or worlds within worlds, as the Risen say. Obviously I'm not in the land of sleigh bells and candy canes, but somewhere in the Deep. I wonder what is is that I'm accessing in the field of Mozart's <i>Requiem</i>. As I ponder more I begin to realize that there is sadness is the memory of the story of a little baby who will grow up, and as a young man, "die" a seemingly tragic, lonely death, abandoned by the world he loved so much; I think of his mother as well. Mozart was dying as he struggled to finish this piece, and transitioned before it could be completed. He captured these complex ego-mind feelings of the direct experience of his own transition, along with the "tragedy and loss" that are believed to be inseparable by death. Surrounding <i>Requiem </i>is much controversy and confusion, unanswered questions and myth. While the story of the man who was also a Christ clearly embodies the almost inconceivable news that there is no death, only more life, much myth and confusion surround the drama as well.</div>
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Many fields of spirituality and religion converge around this time of the year, a few according to the light reaching the earth from the sun, and others because someone once did or said something that continues to resonate with millions of still earth-bound souls. One funny question that I get asked often is about my "religion": "Are you Christian? Jewish? Buddhist? Pagan? Democrat? Vegetarian?" My answer has always been the same: "I don't remember." There is the potential for magic and miracles of wonder in them all. Krishnamurti once said, "Religion is the frozen thought of man out of which they build temples." He also said, "I maintain that Truth is a pathless land, and you cannot approach it by any path whatsoever, by any religion, by any sect."<br />
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The Requiem's saddening minor chords of the last movement of the sequence, the <i>Lacrimosa</i>, breaks off after only eight bars, unfinished. One can only wonder if Mozart was simultaneously having near-death experiences as he struggled to complete his mission. He transitioned on December 5, 1791. Perhaps I'm accessing something of his world, his field, his non-locality while listening to his final offering to our terrestrial world. The lovely little Christmas card from my Aunt Doris also brings me in contact with some kind of field. Now in her upper-eighties, she is one of the few remaining, older relatives still on the earth (once there were so very many!) There is, at first, sadness with this thought, but if I stay with the sadness, while letting the ego-mental thinking fade away, I'm brought to an awakened awareness of Authentic Self, and then through some sort of door, an entryway into a deeper aspect of another reality, and more light begins to shine through what I first perceived as shadow. This is the door to the Risen lands, and not only light, but laughter and joy beam forth from it, and suddenly I begin to understand the meaning of <i>Cristes mæsse</i>, which means literally, "the anointed one's mission." We all have this mission, as anointed with spirit by Creator Source, to find the door to Home, for "blessings more than we ever hoped for."<br />
<br />
Tim made his transition on a Christmas Eve, falling deeply asleep here and slowly awakening <i>there</i>. Although my mental grief about it has been worked through over the years, and it seems nothing more than the dream it was, my body still remembers in its own way, and accesses biological fields that are inherently part of a terrestrial existence. So a little sadness is there too, wistfulness, really, which also becomes a door to where Tim actually is now, the present, which is all we every really have. </div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Dialogues of Love, Grief, & Survival Beyond Death — 21st Century Reports from the Afterlife through Contemplative, Intuitive, & Physical Mediumship.</div>August Goforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06748210350055902472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20244508.post-67742380101084105342023-11-10T11:47:00.000-05:002023-11-11T22:00:12.301-05:00Animals in Paradise<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiufydqm8d_12nsPx9-KJ1pgF7mo_kdFTZxJdDX3wXXENYpIJJ_EEXTTn0Bh2eRtZTjhpeAh12i_6UXWLqosiL_U1FBbnhZOIgCmcGorX-H5n-WE9DltHcHifK3n4p39mOjpKgg/s1600/lion_lamb_and_doves_peace-animated.gif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiufydqm8d_12nsPx9-KJ1pgF7mo_kdFTZxJdDX3wXXENYpIJJ_EEXTTn0Bh2eRtZTjhpeAh12i_6UXWLqosiL_U1FBbnhZOIgCmcGorX-H5n-WE9DltHcHifK3n4p39mOjpKgg/s320/lion_lamb_and_doves_peace-animated.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
"(Life) ... a majestic, unceasing, unhurried, forward movement</div>
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brings things stage by stage to the condition we know them by now."</div>
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~ Thomas Troward ~</div>
[First posted 6/22/13]</div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
Risen reader Debbie shares:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">August, Tim, finding <i>The Risen</i> came at just the right time for me. I
feel the light and truth emanate forth from all of you, and your writing
is exquisite. I cannot fathom how you put everything you did into
words, and did so beautifully. I felt that I was carried along by soft,
gentle waves, and even what portions of material felt intense to me -
and some I do not yet fully comprehend, I admit - I know that in time I
will. <br /><br />Your love for your cherished animal friends I share with
you, and to know they are safe in the arms of The Risen gives me great
comfort. <br /><br />I wish to ask you something that has been on my mind
for some time now, even before I got your book: I would like to know if
there is a special prayer you might recommend or suggest, or a Risen
team I can call on in prayer to help animals on Earth who are unloved
and who do not experience a dignified passing. Do they receive help
immediately upon passing, animals such as those in factory farms and
shelters? I think of them almost constantly and want to know if you may
have suggestions for prayers. Or do I rest in the knowledge that The
Risen gather these sweet souls into their arms and I am worrying and
fretting for nothing. Any perspective you might have I am grateful for.
Animals are so precious, so close to The Risen world, and it pains me
that a single one suffers in any way</span><span style="font-size: small;">.</span></span></blockquote>
<br />
Debbie, we are grateful for your kind and beautiful words about your experience with the Risen material, and we rejoice that you have found something of value in our book. We know that many find it daunting in its density, but as we have noted before, it's not meant to be "Metaphysics 101" or "Mediumship for Dummies." In many ways, it was written out of time for those not yet in it, which is another way of saying "for the future." Like you, those who view their life with a posture of open and conscious awareness, and with lack of fear and worry, are able to face living with a forward perspective, knowing with total trust that "my good goes before me and prepares the way."<br />
<br />
Our furry, feathery and leathery fellow creatures occupy much of our lives. Whenever I look into the eyes of an animal, I see the gaze of Creator Source looking back. Thus have I come to understand what "love" is, through the indeterminable depths of their souls. They have never lost their innocence, and unlike us, never will. They can lead us back to Risen pastures, where life is always good, and grazing and water as perfect as the calm and peaceful skies overhead. Many of us will be met first by our beloved animals as we step from the terrestrial to the Risen lands, for each and every one has as divine a purpose as we do. I have met many animals in the Risen geographies whose intelligence and understanding far passes my own, and at whose feet I sit in wonder, a grateful disciple.<br />
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We share your sadness about the unconscionable injustices done to animals on this planet. Pray ... always pray. It might gladden you to know that all the profits from our book (plus a good deal more) go to a special organization in our city that provides free veterinary services to those who can't afford them. This is one concrete and immediate way in which we can help. Other friends volunteer at a special hospital and sanctuary for the wild birds that stray into the city and become injured. Still others, like our friends at <a href="http://www.foreverfamilyfoundation.org/" target="_blank">The Forever Family Foundation</a>, are directly involved with rescuing feral cats, spaying them, and finding homes for the kittens. There is no lack of work to do, is there?<br />
<br />
You may recall from your reading of <i>The Risen</i> what Tim revealed about our "dwelling places" that await us in The Summerlands—<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“You know of the mind’s powers, August, as you’ve been
creatively manifesting your own dwelling places all along. It’s similar to how
living spaces are manifested on earth. The place you live in now did not exist
until you decided to find it, and then your mind began to conceive of
possibilities—from there your inner vision proceeded to externalize them. Your
entire world experience is one immense, complex manifestation on the material
plane. Cities, towns, and houses on earth previously existed only in people’s
minds. Granted, the external manifestation process is much slower and tedious
on your material plane than it is in the Risen states, but the principal is the
same—mind manifests reality. All the fantasies about places where you would
love to dwell not only become possible once you transition into Risen life, but
they can begin to manifest even before your transition. It depends on one’s
mental and emotional clarity, one’s will, and especially one’s self-evolution,
which together bring enlightened understanding of Mind and its unlimited
abundance. </span></span></div>
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</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> “While
you’re dreaming of that cozy little cottage or even a castle tucked away in
some hidden glen, the strength of your desires will cause the building elements
to come together in the realm of the Higher Mind, which is your mind, my mind,
our Mind—it is all One—and particular elements of light will coalesce into an
actuality that reflects those desires. The more it becomes real to you in your
mind, the more it becomes ‘real–ized’ on the higher planes where such things
are meant to occur. The Risen are capable of manifesting realized wonders of
landscape and architecture, which are their dwelling places and are far beyond
the physical possibilities of the earth plane.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> “Of course I’m speaking of the positive, spiritually
inspired powers of the individual use of Mind. To the extent that one’s
thoughts, dreams and fantasies are able to manifest in ways that are beautiful
and meaningful evidences the degree of spiritual evolution, of the self-love
and self-esteem that enable and support the love and esteem of other
individuals, and the level of understanding that Mind is a shared experience as
well as an individual one. There are those on the earth, who, for whatever
reasons unique to their experience, understanding, and individual evolution,
are unable to manifest much more than a Risen tar-paper shack—if even that.
While they might be able to fantasize about a sumptuous Hollywood mansion, more
than likely the nature of that image is of the earth-bound, ego-mind’s desires
and so could not in any real way be imaginally expressed in the higher astral
realms.”</span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<br />
So what this mean, dear friend, is that by your good works here, you have been laying up treasures for yourself in The Summerland, which await your arrival and habitation. "My good goes before me and prepares the way."<br />
<br />
I have been aware of my own "Risen estate"—which is rather vast, and indescribably beautiful, for many years, and visit it all the time when my body sleeps. It is rare I can remember much, for such Risen realms do not translate well, if at all, into the meager brain thoughts of a human body; there simply is little for terrestrial memory to grasp and hold for us.<br />
<br />
The very special thing about this estate is that it has always been open as a sanctuary for any and all animals that I have had some kind of relationship with—directly or indirectly—and to whom I extend the invitation to go there and dwell, and bid them to enhance it and their own lives with the complete peace needed for recovery from their earthly sufferings. Not only all the dogs and cats I've ever lived with are there, but every little bird that I've come upon that has transitioned or will soon; every squirrel, mouse, snake; every belabored horse I see drawing its heavy load of tourists through Central Park receives my invitation to advance there at any time of their choosing. When I see or learn of the suffering or loss of an elephant, dolphin in the news or on TV, any and all animals receive my prayers for healing and the invitation to go live on my estate. It is good it is so vast, for herds of elephants need a lot of room!<br />
<br />
You can do this, too. Simple, isn't it? Yes, always strive to remember that you can ask for help, for there really are Risen teams of healers waiting to hear such requests. They will assist and guide, as well as teach and even themselves learn in the process, for Life—"majestic, unceasing, and unhurried"—is also Learning, Discovery, Celebration.<br />
<br />
I close with these words of Tim from our book—his response to Eternity—<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">"Perfection is not something to be attained; it is something
to be realized, to awaken to. Oh, the incredible ecstasy of awakening to the
realization that there is no end to awakening! There is no end to Heaven,
continually unfolding and revealing itself as we awaken to ever-increasing
awareness of having our being in and as paradise.”</span></span></div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Dialogues of Love, Grief, & Survival Beyond Death — 21st Century Reports from the Afterlife through Contemplative, Intuitive, & Physical Mediumship.</div>August Goforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06748210350055902472noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20244508.post-9893079182693682562023-11-10T11:00:00.001-05:002023-11-11T22:00:49.077-05:00Risen Geographies and Dwelling Places<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi07m7lizUzxi6beNraP-ACq9r64QyLxJcLI3ptG8pw-QnBMnj_n4ij7713fdUEInvgV2myQyGz0AaNn5iZxHnbpwIRa3wZ2tiP3X4nFN6cq2r65nNtNPKTpFDw5tRQXsPq2vC8/s1600/ancient-tree.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="277" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi07m7lizUzxi6beNraP-ACq9r64QyLxJcLI3ptG8pw-QnBMnj_n4ij7713fdUEInvgV2myQyGz0AaNn5iZxHnbpwIRa3wZ2tiP3X4nFN6cq2r65nNtNPKTpFDw5tRQXsPq2vC8/s320/ancient-tree.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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[First Posted 5/18/13]</div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
Beau Lotto, a neuroscientist and founder of <a href="https://www.labofmisfits.com/about-us/meet-the-misfits/#:~:text=Beau%20Lotto&text=His%20research%20explores%20the%20ways,National%20Geographic%2C%20Netflix%20and%20PBS." target="_blank">Lab of Misfits</a>, gave a <a href="https://www.ted.com/talks/beau_lotto_optical_illusions_show_how_we_see?utm_campaign=tedspread&utm_medium=referral&utm_source=tedcomshare" target="_blank">TedTalk</a> in 2009 that used optical illusions to demonstrate how we perceive the world. He investigates "how the human mind makes sense from the senseless." Underlying the fact that we can never truly see what's "out there" but only what's in our head, shaped by how our brain has learned to interpret various signals, are these ideas Beau offers:<br />
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"No one is an outside observer of nature ...each of us is defined by our ecology ... ecology is necessarily relative, historical and empirical."</blockquote>
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These ideas come startlingly close in some ways to how one may begin to imagine how life is experienced as Risen; especially poignant for me is his demonstration as to how sights can be converted to sounds, using the example of a 6 year old's painting, converted to music. On earth, we have the physical body, acting as a filter for the incoming information from the Universe around us; the ego-mind, generally uncontrolled by Authentic Self and given free reign, makes judgmental choices for our emotional and psychological behavior, according to its own hidden agenda. Without the terrestrial body, which (usually) ends the ego-mind's dominance, our world is revealed to us on a very different level of perceived truth, indeed, many different levels.<br />
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Tim shares in <i>The Risen</i>:<br />
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"... light is also sound and therefore music is light. Each and every single unit of life is a light-filled tone and tone-filled light. Every thing vibrates and all movement produces light and sound. All universes are an ongoing symphony of infinite drama. Your life on earth and beyond it is a melody. This is less apparent on the earth due to its great density and lower vibration, which dulls and deadens the spirit, greatly lessening the connection every thing has with everything. It becomes more obvious on those planes beyond the Earth as we become more refined and of greater vibration.” </blockquote>
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"Ecology" is highly resonant to the concept of "geography" which the Risen directed me to use in our book. It means not only our surroundings, but because we are inextricably immersed in it, it also means our worlds: the climate, the weather, the air, the light, the sounds, its history(ies), its feelings. One of my brothers is a wildlife technologiest (a fancy name for a park ranger) and he once explained to me about the ecology — or world – of a tree. We can see the tree, rising out of the ground, spreading its branches and leaves up and into the world around it, touching other trees, and their worlds, merging into a collective of worlds within worlds. Each tree is breathing, taking in elements through its roots and leaves, and then releasing others back into the air. Each tree gives off heat in the form of energy and reflective light. Every cell is alive with non-stop activity. Every tree gives harbor to many other life forms.<br />
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Beneath each tree, if one observes with patience, are other plants -- grasses and baby trees, fungi, each with its own ecology exactly like the Mother Tree above them, and all immersed in Mother's world, and merging into one another's. These worlds interpenetrate, interact, teach, learn, implant, extract, <i>love</i>. "Worlds within worlds", as the oft-repeated phrase in our book goes. <br />
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In the recent posting "<a href="http://augustgoforth.blogspot.com/2012/10/return-to-summerland.html" target="_blank">Return to Summerland</a>" I attempt to share what it's like being in a Risen geography while not yet Risen -- not easy! Here are some interesting excerpts from the book that Tim shares in his attempts to describe his own ecological experience:<br />
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The word ‘live’ is not quite correct in connection with the way dwelling spaces exist here—actually, ‘dwell’ works much better. And the word ‘time’ isn’t exactly right either. I don’t dwell there all the time—hardly ever, actually, for there is far too much beyond it. Infinooty! There are never-ending environments for me to explore or manifest and occupy for as long as I want. </blockquote>
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I see you are wondering what lies beyond this tiny apartment where Bigfoot and I sometimes rest. Nothing and yet everything lies beyond it. When I go for walks through the old neighborhood, it’s the same, yet so much more. Each and every thing is alive, suffused by glowing, pulsating, prismatic lights, filled with life and energy as the sun-filled trees in the parks, effervescent as the fountains which give forth music, their waters welling up and cascading down pieces of sculpture that are never the same. Birds, animals, butterflies, and flowers of exquisite and dramatic beauty populate this geography. It is all a manifestation of my mind, yet infinitely more. </blockquote>
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We are of the same Mind, and so wherever or whenever we are, Mind Is. There is no place or time Mind can’t be. If we move ‘outward,’ that movement can continue without ceasing, manifesting environments within which to dwell. The very movement of Mind is manifestation. If we move in a way that we desire to be ‘inward,’ the result is the same. If I desire to dwell in light or darkness, or seasons and weather, there are no limitations imposed upon my desires except those I place upon them. (1)</blockquote>
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Of course I’m speaking of the positive, spiritually inspired powers of the individual use of Mind. To the extent that one’s thoughts, dreams and fantasies are able to manifest in ways that are beautiful and meaningful evidences the degree of spiritual evolution, of the self-love and self-esteem that enable and support the love and esteem of other individuals, and the level of understanding that Mind is a shared experience as well as an individual one. There are those on the earth, who, for whatever reasons unique to their experience, understanding, and individual evolution, are unable to manifest much more than a Risen tar-paper shack—if even that. While they might be able to fantasize about a sumptuous Hollywood mansion, more than likely the nature of that image is of the earth-bound, ego-mind’s desires and so could not in any real way be imaginally expressed in the higher astral realms.</blockquote>
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For example, the nature of greed appears to manifest in the earthly realm as an energy that is able to acquire, accumulate, and manifest imagined wealth in all its forms of ego-mind desire. In the Risen Worlds, however, the nature of greed, having been individualized and nurtured through belief and habit on the earth, but now accepted into the infinite capacity of Authentic Self, is no longer a toy in the hands of the limited and now dissolved ego-mind. Instead, through the greater and unlimited power of the Higher Mind, the emptiness of greed is like dry air blowing over a parched landscape. And that is what most likely will manifest—landscapes of vast, empty expanses of dead and dying vegetation, unable to grow or revive from lack of the energy of a loving, serene spirit that is connected to Original Source, whence outpours all sustenance.</blockquote>
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I see the greatest gift we have been given by Original Creator Source as the ability to change our mind. Many, many souls, upon coming to a stagnated state of mind, become trapped by their ignorance of their true nature, which is that the Mind of the Highest Self is also their own mind and is shared by all individualized minds. The illusion of ignorance further manifests as an illusion of fear, and thus seems to result in a trap or as ‘hell.’ Many of our spirit rescues here involve the answering of mental and emotional cries for help from souls imprisoned in the illusion of their fears. Others never seem to feel the need to ask for help, and some even knowingly resist it. </blockquote>
It’s greatly comforting and invigorating to know that Nature—that is, flowers, trees, gardens and forests, animals, birds, and people, are awaiting us when we leave this terrestrial experience and transition to the next. <br />
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(1) Tim’s experiences sound very similar to the currently developing theory of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Biocentrism_%28theory_of_everything%29" target="_blank">biocentrism</a>, which posits that life and biology are central to being, reality, and the cosmos — life creates the universe rather than the other way around.</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Dialogues of Love, Grief, & Survival Beyond Death — 21st Century Reports from the Afterlife through Contemplative, Intuitive, & Physical Mediumship.</div>August Goforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06748210350055902472noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20244508.post-17876776141243923272023-10-31T10:10:00.000-04:002023-11-01T14:34:54.002-04:00Be With Me<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBemK77zHnUJ38gaW5fbCnRcomQkwZTRsY-ea92yB9kzzUto25O0SvLqC6j0xbdHMGmUdJItiTmPYPkwAxlTdqO8x8i7D8Y_yedG4oqfMXOAHdR74I0Piljrms0L1tEDN8ZZ5CT1y80mYaHgWdgwUO-er3JzqHX_ozWdCI1_7PiGa2GHK6Rg/s1665/IMG_5688.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1071" data-original-width="1665" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBemK77zHnUJ38gaW5fbCnRcomQkwZTRsY-ea92yB9kzzUto25O0SvLqC6j0xbdHMGmUdJItiTmPYPkwAxlTdqO8x8i7D8Y_yedG4oqfMXOAHdR74I0Piljrms0L1tEDN8ZZ5CT1y80mYaHgWdgwUO-er3JzqHX_ozWdCI1_7PiGa2GHK6Rg/s320/IMG_5688.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"> <span class="s1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-size-adjust: auto;">To open out into manifestation the wonderful possibilities hidden in the Creative Power of the Universe requires two seemingly separate things of me— to see that I myself am necessary as a center for focusing that power — </span><span class="s2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleItalicBody; font-style: italic; text-decoration: underline; text-size-adjust: auto;">consciously feeling</span><span class="s1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-size-adjust: auto;"> the knowing of “I Am” — while simultaneously withdrawing the </span><span class="s3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleItalicBody; font-style: italic; text-size-adjust: auto;">thought</span><span class="s1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-size-adjust: auto;"> of myself as contributing anything to the efficiency of this power. (Not me, but Thee.)</span><span class="s3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleItalicBody; font-style: italic; text-size-adjust: auto;"> I Am</span><span class="s1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-size-adjust: auto;"> is the lens that can focus Itself, consciously <i>or </i>less than consciously. Source is the Light (or Power, or Higher Self) that passes through the lens, which is my human self, concentrated and guided by my mental and emotional human self, to illuminate and manifest images upon the background of Mind. It is not I that work but the Power; yet the Power needs me because it cannot specialize itself into images without me — each is the complementary of the other. The higher the degree of specialization desired, the more necessary is the intelligent and willing co-operation of the individual, which is true surrender. Truth, whether individual or cosmic, looks and even </span><span class="s3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleItalicBody; font-style: italic; text-size-adjust: auto;">feels</span><span class="s1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-size-adjust: auto;"> different from different places, while never ceasing to be truth. Therefore my positioning, or posture, or attitude determines my experience, my perception, my feelings, depending on the way I am focusing my I-Amness and from where. And what is “the way”? “I Am” is The Way.</span></span><p></p><p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: medium; text-size-adjust: auto;">(Adapted and expanded from Thomas Troward by August Goforth )</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: large;"><i>Affirm: <br />“Be with me” <br />and then bask in the feeling of the resulting experience.</i></span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Dialogues of Love, Grief, & Survival Beyond Death — 21st Century Reports from the Afterlife through Contemplative, Intuitive, & Physical Mediumship.</div>August Goforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06748210350055902472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20244508.post-80392612152928545302023-09-25T17:59:00.003-04:002023-09-26T22:20:39.713-04:00Spirit Artifacts; Pasternak Apport<p><span style="font-size: medium;">Пастернак упорствует! (Updates: Scroll to the end) </span></p><p>August 25, 2023</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwMV3pTzdMToYsFGGlfVvswXSwKhkZmUIDmnwcZqhFot62XaklGT2rX3qG0bfAEN019-pKVBPc8BxZCqYo-d3w68TRc6fv_W6kFjNQt_CctqFSW5kjEU3uIzEQ-8XnplTgsLokhcInHoieGOXD9lvcfKAhWX0hSXHqNM2gZfL9M9OaRQ2gsp7f/s556/brazier.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="341" data-original-width="556" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwMV3pTzdMToYsFGGlfVvswXSwKhkZmUIDmnwcZqhFot62XaklGT2rX3qG0bfAEN019-pKVBPc8BxZCqYo-d3w68TRc6fv_W6kFjNQt_CctqFSW5kjEU3uIzEQ-8XnplTgsLokhcInHoieGOXD9lvcfKAhWX0hSXHqNM2gZfL9M9OaRQ2gsp7f/w400-h245/brazier.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdNwVT2ikz5RcsIig39NNrVnN-TP37zQfvbKgeK7JznEUy3DJ73Scc4dAPygDIhC9dawimluJnVgwJM5B3E-BHMvFU_pDNKjTpjlLdiiwfC1x4w34UKp9X0T3kr2-MThOLc3NuLrEjFY_6gljcyE5JVgmaklGzx3lsTFERjUiumzVJZBQT9oUN/s514/Pasternak.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="514" data-original-width="350" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdNwVT2ikz5RcsIig39NNrVnN-TP37zQfvbKgeK7JznEUy3DJ73Scc4dAPygDIhC9dawimluJnVgwJM5B3E-BHMvFU_pDNKjTpjlLdiiwfC1x4w34UKp9X0T3kr2-MThOLc3NuLrEjFY_6gljcyE5JVgmaklGzx3lsTFERjUiumzVJZBQT9oUN/w218-h320/Pasternak.jpg" width="218" /></a></div><br /><p><span style="font-size: medium;">This is a tale about Apports & Spirit Orchestration, so do one's best to remain curious, unbiased and unafraid as it unfolds.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I'm now nearing the end of a month's vacation I luxuriously granted myself; August for August. I had already started painting again a couple months ago, exploring the media of watercolour that I had been trained in as a child, and love most of all techniques. During this time, I decided to work through some remaining grief from the transition of my siamese child, McHenry by painting about him (he had manifested via ectoplasm in a dark seance a few months his transition, and about which I produced a painting- another blog for another time.) As I painted, Fiona, his sister, who had transitioned last year, leaving me in a great black hole of grief, came and watched. McHenry then began participating, and we painted a few abstracts I now call "Spirit Artifacts" - and then Fiona and I painted some that displayed her memories of certain stages of her transition. And then William Hurt, the actor -- who had been "dispatched" to me shortly after his transition to support me in my grief about Fiona and for me to help guide him in his newly transitioned state -- became interested, and Bill (he insists I use this name) and I painted a series of Spirit Artifacts about the various stages that he could recall about his transition. And as we focused on this intense creative endeavour, my main guide, Boris Pasternak, was drawn to our energies, and then said that <i>he </i>wanted to try it. Because he could not and/or would not remember his long-ago transition, and knowing that I'm also a poet, he decided we would <i>numinously </i>enter a few of his poems and interpret them as Spirit Artifacts -- the results shown below, as informally recorded by an iPad camera.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Revenons à nos moutons. A couple days ago -- Wednesday to be precise, with no-time on my hands, I decided to venture once again into the depths of Manhattan, specifically, SoHo and parts of the East Village. SoHo (SOuth of HOuston Street; "Houston" is pronounced "how-ston"). SoHo was, in the early 1900's, a district of business filled with warehouses and factories. In the mid-1900's, it began to change to a district that was growing with art and people, as many artists were moving from Greenwich Village to get away from the intrusive invasive capitalism, and found refuge in the enormous lofts with floors and floors of empty factories.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I can recall when Soho was practically deserted of human habitation even in the early 1980's, but still a strange and magical place. One of my favourite experiences was when I passed what apparently used to be a factory and warehouse for primarily black pepper, and decades later, I still sneezed when passing it. My landlord at that time was one of the few people to live in what was basically an unconverted loft - which defies description - who had bought the building to renovate it through his company known as the mysterious "Karma Inc." headed by a stern man who had once been an abbot in a Tibetan monastery.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Revenons à nos moutons again. There had been tentative plans with a friend to go along with me on one of 3 possibilities: The New Museum; a movie; meandering. But he was unable to join me, and as difficult as it is for me to choose something, I felt drawn to the movie at The Angelika Theater, one of my fave places since way back when. The film was a weird sci-fi indie, which while very very clever, left me feeling disturbed. This was further accentuated by the fact that there were only 3 other people in the entire theater besides me - strange, but not untypical for a weekday afternoon outside the tourist districts, and while most NYers are at work. I left to meander to my fave chocolate shop, <i>Marie Belle</i>, and discovered I was headed in the wrong direction - not hard to do coming out from a dark place into the disorienting chaos of the city. As I reoriented myself, I continued to feel disturbed; a shifting from dark to darker; lonesome; abandoned. I began to feel overcome by decades-old memories of meandering these streets with friends now long gone, all taken hostage and swept away by the AIDS pandemic. I recall writing in <i>The Risen</i> about feeling as if a great Mother Ship had come and taken everyone but me; I was feeling this again as I absent-mindedly turned another corner. There was so many routes I could take to the chocolate shop, I wasn't paying attention, just pointing myself in the general direction, while continuing to feel my feet touching something other than the ground. I now realize that I was entering a dimension of Spirit that is <i>There </i>and not here: the <i>Impossible </i>and not the only possible; <i>Other Side Up Looking In</i>.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">As I turned a corner that was no longer a terrestrial corner but fading incandescently, I passed yet another empty storefront, probably a casualty of the bleaker of recent covid times, and was very briefly pulled from my morbid mediumistic reveries by a book left out in the open on an architectural piece of one of the doorway pillars. I passionately love printed books, and also love that sometimes they will be left by previous owners out on the streets here, perhaps in hopes they might be of use to someone else. They're seldom very good or interesting, but this one was unusual in that it was a hardcover, seemingly quite old, and had a painting on the cover. Closer examination revealed the title was in Russian cyrillic and the painting of some Cossak-ish looking figure. Mildly interesting but I didn't bother picking it up after a brief glance, as I couldn't read Russian and didn't care about Cossacks.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I resumed my journey to the chocolate oasis and had taken less than 10 steps when I was almost rudely stopped by an odd feeling-realization: wait a minute, was there just the one book? But why would I be thinking that? Besides, the truffles were calling. But I went back all the same, to discover that my intuition was right: there was <i>another</i> book beneath the Merry Cossack:</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj14PAioH4jWBXA55S2KYkPjC8woInPRgmcU-R4-pMLxhAfst9EEg50DnYj8-DCCgRIGok9l7j0M-2no9-iakQuvLvKz36LJB5rwKCuXmfsVPIdQvGLP4_E8LuNpoxL5Jop--uib2xZud_wBSbD5feZo4kEkGqEj0csqk2IAhQoqJMp2bz3Wn54/s1553/IMG_5925.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1553" data-original-width="1139" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj14PAioH4jWBXA55S2KYkPjC8woInPRgmcU-R4-pMLxhAfst9EEg50DnYj8-DCCgRIGok9l7j0M-2no9-iakQuvLvKz36LJB5rwKCuXmfsVPIdQvGLP4_E8LuNpoxL5Jop--uib2xZud_wBSbD5feZo4kEkGqEj0csqk2IAhQoqJMp2bz3Wn54/s320/IMG_5925.jpg" width="235" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I thought I recognized the smallish portrait on it, as well as the gold-embossed cyrillic, having just completed 5 paintings with their owner, <i><b>Boris Pasternak</b></i>. What are the odds? Although there are a couple small Russian/Ukranian neighborhoods in this and other boroughs, this particular area is not in any way. This particular book - old, non-English, peculiar but clearly boring - left on a street in one of the largest cities in the world, where thousands of people theoretically passed it, but none ever saw it; only I. The other book was clearly there to hide and even discourage anyone from seeing this one, and orchestrated for me and only me. I was stunned into a kind of numbness that, once worn off, I realized this was an actual apport -- of a 1st edition book about his famously acclaimed novel Doctor Zhivago. It was his way of giving me a spirit arm around my shoulder, to comfort me from my dismal siberian inner mental meanderings. (No offense meant to any Siberians, but I'm hoping you know what I mean.) The actual translated title here is "D<i>octor Zhivago - Autobiographical Prose; Selected Letters</i> - cloth bound, 1st edition, Moscow, 1999. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">This is the 2nd time Boris has used communication involving this particular novel (utilizing a funny commentary via a well-known song from the movie of the novel) -- and so now I refer the reader to the blog posting of the story when he first introduced himself to me via a spectacular spirit-precipitated self-portrait, rendered in my 2 favourite colours. It also involved McHenry. The further in you go, the bigger it gets:</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcla1W-fSPjh-b4NZXjZYoF7ETkXeoGl9zHQABdL4tqPByqM72MpLHbc8nGaX_9JXT6M5Od5NU4pfYs8eU4B87p9WE0MhDtOxnklXsBieJUrvIJCHFOA4wk0sQgMYLspifh6BroaLoRxAFbnCRHpW70Ezg4sEojiCVtACMjRKGp_AUXmB_nH-A/s755/Copy%20of%20Boris%20Pasternak%20Preciptated%20Picture%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="454" data-original-width="755" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcla1W-fSPjh-b4NZXjZYoF7ETkXeoGl9zHQABdL4tqPByqM72MpLHbc8nGaX_9JXT6M5Od5NU4pfYs8eU4B87p9WE0MhDtOxnklXsBieJUrvIJCHFOA4wk0sQgMYLspifh6BroaLoRxAFbnCRHpW70Ezg4sEojiCVtACMjRKGp_AUXmB_nH-A/s320/Copy%20of%20Boris%20Pasternak%20Preciptated%20Picture%20(2).jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Precipitated Painting of Boris Pasternak<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://augustgoforth.blogspot.com/2007/04/where-is-moose-squirrel.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: medium;">WHERE IS MOOSE & SQUIRREL?</span></a></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Here are the Spirit Artifact paintings Boris and I produced, in their manifested order. 1-4 are mystical renderings of his poems, and titled the same. Possibly more to come. Primarily executed in watercolour paints (plain and iridescent) and inks (plain, scented and iridescent) with other traditional pigments including mica). As for the other paintings mentioned before, I hope to exhibit them on an online gallery once I find the proper scanner - any recommendations, please feel free to offer guidance.</span></p><p>[All paintings 6"x9"; All paintings © August Goforth]</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCdoyQJ7bdmRC0sRlAOKOSXupZyILgA34-KBw8dSKqH1h6FXVmo8QgDzUzpt537B_aLZf7wPd7b38bn9PrB6hFhOuIYHw9PiJNDZLhLwxYBj8jrUgz2xbVriCwmd-HLkFurFHKOk5nk74gEiKv_BHEhwYACEruF_DC6RLcxeDReqDNyR6hsdqQ/s1547/1.%20In%20The%20Woods.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1547" data-original-width="1044" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCdoyQJ7bdmRC0sRlAOKOSXupZyILgA34-KBw8dSKqH1h6FXVmo8QgDzUzpt537B_aLZf7wPd7b38bn9PrB6hFhOuIYHw9PiJNDZLhLwxYBj8jrUgz2xbVriCwmd-HLkFurFHKOk5nk74gEiKv_BHEhwYACEruF_DC6RLcxeDReqDNyR6hsdqQ/s320/1.%20In%20The%20Woods.jpg" width="216" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1. In The Woods</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL0E0hAqCyyMr-ObWF1qRFtHqv2nZz_QwpriItjo8HUpocCXqBNAP_oa1fxus7pZByrPnPFvrCvBjwaQzRmUOTmSZBdfN5p84fgzuScS88dtU0UtCLgEhrsUJ63ZwH03E9Fpa1TnZ5uBvCMNhuhGwT7vUuGTKAb4jExWDZmtm3rS5sL-wDddgz/s1560/2.%20Snow%20Is%20Falling.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1560" data-original-width="1050" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL0E0hAqCyyMr-ObWF1qRFtHqv2nZz_QwpriItjo8HUpocCXqBNAP_oa1fxus7pZByrPnPFvrCvBjwaQzRmUOTmSZBdfN5p84fgzuScS88dtU0UtCLgEhrsUJ63ZwH03E9Fpa1TnZ5uBvCMNhuhGwT7vUuGTKAb4jExWDZmtm3rS5sL-wDddgz/s320/2.%20Snow%20Is%20Falling.jpg" width="215" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2. Snow Is Falling<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic9wFHbnTsn1I5UTfw3vgfjZ_-qew3gDc2wHiW2QH7rPJ_O8oQLV3RqUtFF1KLJoEYc36OaggklKS0n4-vvXxmfD59CH3jvmSk8MYnK_tT0nEH1bT23tlvVQiiYuE1QDizxsJY7F3kzfi7xyJQ5F52rLs_cw9p0aMTqZ_BSKPnOt8pnImgWUBl/s1596/3.%20August.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1596" data-original-width="1135" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic9wFHbnTsn1I5UTfw3vgfjZ_-qew3gDc2wHiW2QH7rPJ_O8oQLV3RqUtFF1KLJoEYc36OaggklKS0n4-vvXxmfD59CH3jvmSk8MYnK_tT0nEH1bT23tlvVQiiYuE1QDizxsJY7F3kzfi7xyJQ5F52rLs_cw9p0aMTqZ_BSKPnOt8pnImgWUBl/s320/3.%20August.jpg" width="228" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">3. August<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4FTxi44Djt6fMxZCiMKmInlQTI_PI_o36qyQJiSnH3FCT3l1dm79Cb08fvnPi969wttpLPt1YdgWZTWcxTqEXA6dTRp0wmD35aDUqM0qtS0dq_53vkfXGEy4QJQx-pZOsznfUCNggKFPJ8K4NHRbH9xZw_pB0EbaKPSzC-_2FkOyhGXwuKbYp/s1580/4.%20A%20Brazier's%20Bronze%20Cinders.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1580" data-original-width="1139" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4FTxi44Djt6fMxZCiMKmInlQTI_PI_o36qyQJiSnH3FCT3l1dm79Cb08fvnPi969wttpLPt1YdgWZTWcxTqEXA6dTRp0wmD35aDUqM0qtS0dq_53vkfXGEy4QJQx-pZOsznfUCNggKFPJ8K4NHRbH9xZw_pB0EbaKPSzC-_2FkOyhGXwuKbYp/s320/4.%20A%20Brazier's%20Bronze%20Cinders.jpg" width="231" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">4. A Brazier's Bronze Cinders<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR1D-lq0ZoUc23S4Pm0wMIqpNnTfRopHpWLyD9GXHXLyq3WYQOKahUEPwxIi_w5jv0fDCBXrHJjr4XE9sa00pWOVr9YV57FTz4aAI5FppjoQdaf6Pz1sMl48S-Q-tLD4ACH8hpDix5uKofqCXIADEX7gn4pvZ38foNU1yaHRGA9XpfFGcdlhCp/s1535/5.%20Untitled.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1535" data-original-width="1127" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR1D-lq0ZoUc23S4Pm0wMIqpNnTfRopHpWLyD9GXHXLyq3WYQOKahUEPwxIi_w5jv0fDCBXrHJjr4XE9sa00pWOVr9YV57FTz4aAI5FppjoQdaf6Pz1sMl48S-Q-tLD4ACH8hpDix5uKofqCXIADEX7gn4pvZ38foNU1yaHRGA9XpfFGcdlhCp/s320/5.%20Untitled.jpg" width="235" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">5. Untitled</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">9/26/2023</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Пастернак упорствует!</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Pasternak persists!</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">A good friend who has been acquainted with the Risen material even long before it was published, shared the following after our recent conversation about the Pasternak apport event (detailed above). We had just had a long discussion about his possibly accepting my invitation to attend a rare physical mediumship event in the Spring. A couple days after, my friend reports the following. Keeping the idea of spirit orchestration, note that his locating and reading Pasternak's novel preceded the apport affair.</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">"I'd been wanting to read Pasternak's <i>Dr. Zhivago</i> forever, and then your apport story pushed it up the to-read list. I didn't have a copy, though. Two weeks ago I was in a used bookstore in Philly, actually looking for another novel, which they didn't have. I had already picked out a book for my wife, but then realized I had no cash, and I knew this place, at least years ago, did not accept credit cards. I asked anyway and they now accept them, but with a $15 limit. I looked for another book, Mann's <i>Doctor Faustus</i>, to reach the limit, but they didn't have it either. Then I remembered <i>Zhivago</i>, and looked and they had a lovely paperback of a recent translation. </span></div><div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">"I've been toying with reading <i>Zhivago</i> for a week, then finally this afternoon felt like I could start it again and get into it. I read the first 10 pages again and decided to sit on the front stoop and read in the sun. I went out, read a few pages then started watching a guy lock his bike to a pole. He looked back at someone coming up the sidewalk. I looked to see who it was and it was a woman carrying a bunch of colorful clothing on a pole across her shoulders. When she got closer I saw that they were shirts, sports jerseys, 30 or 40 of them, all different, very colorful. As she walked in front of me the one on the end facing me had a name on the back, the only name I could see: <b>Pastrnak</b>. He's a Czech pro hockey player. I had never heard of him."</span></div></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">I remarked that this had Spirit Orchestration written all over it, and asked my friend how this experience made him feel. He responded:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">"What am I feeling? It makes me feel good, like I am harmonized with something larger, part of it all, all of it moving forever. One of the characters in <i>Zhivago </i>actually talks about this feeling in the opening pages: </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>“I think one should be loyal to immortality, which is another word for life, a stronger word for it. One must be true to immortality — true to Christ! Ah, you' re turning up your nose, my poor man. As usual, you haven't understood a thing." </i></span></div></blockquote><div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">My friend added:</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">"Another thing. I had read in the introduction that one criticism of the novel had been its reliance on coincidences. Pasternak countered by saying, <i>"The frequent coincidences in the plot are (in this case) not the secret, trick expedients of the novelist. They are traits to characterize that somewhat willful, free, fanciful flow of reality."</i></span></div></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">I (August) report this ongoing story just to record its personal, evidential meaning to me and my friend, and not to try to convince anyone outside the experience of its validity. Thus, exemplifying without explanation, it may perhaps provide the kind of validity that other readers might be seeking for their own personal numinous experiences.</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Dialogues of Love, Grief, & Survival Beyond Death — 21st Century Reports from the Afterlife through Contemplative, Intuitive, & Physical Mediumship.</div>August Goforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06748210350055902472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20244508.post-17661671868325326562023-09-07T16:36:00.002-04:002023-09-07T19:55:26.746-04:00The Risen Exploratorium<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUJjPiwkXiS1f8DmkZEE3ekjf2XhQOu_Wt25zaIhXcQxGoJ2YwvRC89ZnEmNZ5SBEpk2Eo_EBAPtNT11UL4ZjdfsK5A554EcwcBADG_bPXkgeWG1LF4-ceBl9Dd-1yFJ6jsPzia3VjeElPDJcC6N0EQvqom3w6D43GXqZr41H8xx0jtbJOafnT/s975/Risen2ndCover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="975" data-original-width="639" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUJjPiwkXiS1f8DmkZEE3ekjf2XhQOu_Wt25zaIhXcQxGoJ2YwvRC89ZnEmNZ5SBEpk2Eo_EBAPtNT11UL4ZjdfsK5A554EcwcBADG_bPXkgeWG1LF4-ceBl9Dd-1yFJ6jsPzia3VjeElPDJcC6N0EQvqom3w6D43GXqZr41H8xx0jtbJOafnT/w263-h400/Risen2ndCover.jpg" width="263" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">August leads a participatory "Exploratorium" for readers of the book, "The Risen Dialogues", authored by The Risen Collective & Assembly. Ponderings and ideas are shared for explorational dialogue, utilizing those aspects of the book that most intrigue its readers.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The Exploratorium meets the 1st and 3rd Thursdays of each month at 8 pm Eastern Time. The zoom link to join is </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://us06web.zoom.us/j/3155117825?pwd=RWtBOVJRRFJPTmpxWlNKUXo3bWlmQT09" target="_blank">HERE</a>.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">If you would like to be added to the update email to advise of each upcoming meeting, send an email to glangley@mcn.org</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Dialogues of Love, Grief, & Survival Beyond Death — 21st Century Reports from the Afterlife through Contemplative, Intuitive, & Physical Mediumship.</div>August Goforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06748210350055902472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20244508.post-46018195767003730272023-08-17T14:36:00.010-04:002023-08-17T14:40:10.334-04:00Interview at BraveBoldTV<p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI61w3HhrvxAGVLeSqbvi0J_EpW4ivLssrpE7gkFmBO7cjAyRnxNTVh1ppDvrXDkNIRWvvjHRHEomCVsUF_kUDZvTwFkyX7xj0hAhQDdJwmiz8COhSdHgw5D2X2EeqdUkPCaBIGnZYbB398K3kdCiZ2KaMGrrKFlC48m33B_12ZpDBszInOXBg/s713/aviator.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="713" data-original-width="559" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI61w3HhrvxAGVLeSqbvi0J_EpW4ivLssrpE7gkFmBO7cjAyRnxNTVh1ppDvrXDkNIRWvvjHRHEomCVsUF_kUDZvTwFkyX7xj0hAhQDdJwmiz8COhSdHgw5D2X2EeqdUkPCaBIGnZYbB398K3kdCiZ2KaMGrrKFlC48m33B_12ZpDBszInOXBg/s320/aviator.jpg" width="251" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;">August and the Risen engage with their good friend, Julie Adreani on personal and cosmic topics about Life, Mediumship, The Universe, and Everything.<br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/live/biFqFWaVFT4?feature=share" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Lato, arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;">YouTube</span><span style="font-family: Lato, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 23px;"> Link Here</span></span></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">(Note that the video sometimes starts in the middle of the interview (tech bizarreness) so just manually go to the beginning.)</span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Dialogues of Love, Grief, & Survival Beyond Death — 21st Century Reports from the Afterlife through Contemplative, Intuitive, & Physical Mediumship.</div>August Goforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06748210350055902472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20244508.post-49593111884106429922023-05-30T12:08:00.002-04:002023-05-30T12:09:27.201-04:00The Dream Tides of Resting Source<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYmj30oq9iwsmdnA9x7y55e2ohXSCLud0waTYDep258Q0GRJUykLz7SZ3b4VMeL8_Ca4Zm_0tYZkiT6ry3xqA7t8NHneSsfpGqCcWZ_5NaSx_gGOchFoHf_rx7UsstCGuv0X5SWCZw_NHEz8W08myS7h9h0nB4b4WFFsfm6Eqxm4eav7egcg/s2805/IMG_4126.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2805" data-original-width="2754" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYmj30oq9iwsmdnA9x7y55e2ohXSCLud0waTYDep258Q0GRJUykLz7SZ3b4VMeL8_Ca4Zm_0tYZkiT6ry3xqA7t8NHneSsfpGqCcWZ_5NaSx_gGOchFoHf_rx7UsstCGuv0X5SWCZw_NHEz8W08myS7h9h0nB4b4WFFsfm6Eqxm4eav7egcg/s320/IMG_4126.jpeg" width="314" /></a></div><br /> <span class="s1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Thought or Imagination of the Spirit is the Great Reality of Being, and all material facts are only correspondences. In other words, the Great Reality of Being arises into many diverse kinds of forms, dream-like, or dreamily, from our awakening dwelling in what may be called “underconsciousness”. We interpret this dream dwellingness as “the world” or “our world”. This Dreaming Reality increasingly and continuously emerges and expands from our gradually awakening consciousness into an evolving, consciously alive experience of Living Reality that continues to unfold unceasingly — forever awakening. For most embryonic awakening beings, at first their personal and unique experience of Reality will be indistinguishable from sleeping and from sleepy dreaming. We continue to sleepily, and still mostly indistinguishably, experience the rising and falling, the in-and-out contrasting rhythms of the universal tides of the Great Ocean that is one’s Resting Source. These “tides” are the “breathing” of Resting Source. Gradually we will begin to more consciously distinguish this contrasting rhythm of dreaming realities. We will then begin to increasingly align in union with the Universal Rhythms when we relax and resist not — resting and drowsing, so to speak — to go along, always without worry, floating and drifting with the ebb and flow of ever-arising Reality manifesting from the Infinite. Our dreaming is an ever-emerging awakening into further personal and personalizing reality. Reality is an ever-emerging experience into further dreaming. We will continue to distinguish this rhythm of dreaming realities, increasingly relaxing with decreasing resistance, without worry, floating and drifting with the ebb and flow of ever-arising Reality manifesting from the Infinite. And then, at last, with awakened and yet never-ending awakening awe at the un-articulatable Glory of Never-Ending, Unending Mystery, we will continue our Journey, Forever Onward — </span><span class="s2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleEmphasizedItalicBody; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">consciously</span><span class="s1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">. One awakens in the dream, while the dream continues on . . .</span><p></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">(Adapted and expanded from Thomas Troward by August Goforth)</span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Dialogues of Love, Grief, & Survival Beyond Death — 21st Century Reports from the Afterlife through Contemplative, Intuitive, & Physical Mediumship.</div>August Goforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06748210350055902472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20244508.post-9416955142002693962023-04-27T12:44:00.005-04:002023-04-27T13:22:26.730-04:00Guided By Spirit - just released<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.lulu.com/shop/elfriede-erzen/guided-by-spirit/paperback/product-m8kv2z.html?q=guided+by+spirit+erzen&page=1&pageSize=4" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="1164" data-original-width="794" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYvaGK2gOhWlIJ8BOcLYVFDbS4Z33QxEJtf2kszD6dPwRrEUecs8WfxPbDu-Vr1I0WY5suBbG08SzVkSzfhx4rSUJCgDhNuhRLDHEcfVovb7BPD5nNRtwyPX7t9amIQdZzV9VliBfgaL1amZD33w2HS4A_Lqw-s6ruUAtIai0m9z8RbWVmyQ/w273-h400/FrontCover.jpg" width="273" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I'm so very pleased to announce the publishing of <br /><i><a href="https://www.lulu.com/shop/elfriede-erzen/guided-by-spirit/paperback/product-m8kv2z.html?q=guided+by+spirit+erzen&page=1&pageSize=4" target="_blank">Guided By Spirit</a></i>, by my friend, <br /><b>Elfriede Erzen</b>!<br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">________________________________________</span></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“<i>Guided By Spirit</i> is a powerful story of Elfriede’s
recovery and transformation — a treasure box that is fascinating, compelling,
and moving . . . a heroic narrative of her deep curiosity about the mediumistic
world of Spirit, connecting and leading her to total healing. Such healing is
here for all of us when we welcome it, and Elfriede is here to share how she
found it.”<br />Tara Samuel ~ Actor, writer, producer, filmmaker<br />www.wildprairierosethemovie.com </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“Once mediumship enters your life you realize how healing it
is; it becomes hard to imagine your life without this holistic, soul-exploring
activity. <i>Guided by Spirit</i> maps one woman’s introduction into mediumship
and healing.”<br />Chris Johnson ~ Ontario Experimental Group (OEG) </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“Everyone should read this, for one is never navigating
their life on their own. A story of the power of our souls and the guidance of
the Spirit World.”<br />Julie Adreani ~ Trance healer, Evidential and Physical
Medium<br />www.julieadreanispiritmedium.com</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p>“This is a living work because it’s about life, and more
life, never-ending. Elfriede gifts us with insights that unfold directly from
her courageous explorations into the highest of spiritual journeys through
fear, pain, hope, and ever-growing joys.”<br />August Goforth, author, The Risen Books<br />www.therisenbooks.com</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><br /><p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Dialogues of Love, Grief, & Survival Beyond Death — 21st Century Reports from the Afterlife through Contemplative, Intuitive, & Physical Mediumship.</div>August Goforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06748210350055902472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20244508.post-46810979438006663752023-04-22T11:04:00.001-04:002023-04-22T11:04:28.436-04:00The Eyes of Source<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAxslQSfjQBVUtbHBhSDVMkxPf_ipx2tuLSX1iOqoUpsKK83pwOnpLlszxstgz5HtylBWE8S1Ue88fM0Af63byS4tQ7_hPoLesvkV3N4b8x6JayE9Ez1MVGyYkp-qn5X83yU0wFH8576D0jFtNHso_HqMMgDK13YSA2-eh2U-PuzGzLcUkVQ/s723/IMG_5646.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="723" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAxslQSfjQBVUtbHBhSDVMkxPf_ipx2tuLSX1iOqoUpsKK83pwOnpLlszxstgz5HtylBWE8S1Ue88fM0Af63byS4tQ7_hPoLesvkV3N4b8x6JayE9Ez1MVGyYkp-qn5X83yU0wFH8576D0jFtNHso_HqMMgDK13YSA2-eh2U-PuzGzLcUkVQ/s320/IMG_5646.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 18.4px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.36px;">“From now onwards let your whole thought in meditation be not on the act of seeing nor on what you see, but immovably on That Which Sees.”</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 18.4px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.36px;">Frank Humphries </span></p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.36px;"><i>I must see myself through the eyes of Source and not through the eyes of others.</i></span></p><p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.36px;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.36px;"><br /></span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Dialogues of Love, Grief, & Survival Beyond Death — 21st Century Reports from the Afterlife through Contemplative, Intuitive, & Physical Mediumship.</div>August Goforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06748210350055902472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20244508.post-48670447841680145202023-04-22T10:48:00.004-04:002023-04-22T10:48:59.791-04:00The purpose of vibration<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqQTQDJrqsFkkLYoITyLgK5voyxViPBXFF4zSweBMzVDxGxYPYXo4qL_Mj4q-7AmvHtSCY2Ypfy39aoOpGd64gb9Jz98VkuB42rBMI6MYGBJPP6NUEVGVDC5JWKmVQsTu6QK1sp7R5KCrWTWQQ9VyEtsuhlKtqYFD8NqkR9GgNEnS6e9-n_A/s560/IMG_5645.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="530" data-original-width="560" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqQTQDJrqsFkkLYoITyLgK5voyxViPBXFF4zSweBMzVDxGxYPYXo4qL_Mj4q-7AmvHtSCY2Ypfy39aoOpGd64gb9Jz98VkuB42rBMI6MYGBJPP6NUEVGVDC5JWKmVQsTu6QK1sp7R5KCrWTWQQ9VyEtsuhlKtqYFD8NqkR9GgNEnS6e9-n_A/s320/IMG_5645.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.36px;">The purpose of vibration is emotion. The purpose of emotion is movement (e-motion</span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.36px;"> </span> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.36px;">or energy-in-motion.) The purpose of movement is expansion, exploration and growth. The purpose of expansion, exploration and growth is play. The purpose of play is enjoyment — that is, to bring forth joy. The purpose of bringing forth joy is recreation. The purpose of re-creation is to experience Life.</span><p></p><p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.36px;"><br /></span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Dialogues of Love, Grief, & Survival Beyond Death — 21st Century Reports from the Afterlife through Contemplative, Intuitive, & Physical Mediumship.</div>August Goforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06748210350055902472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20244508.post-84835908037764587112023-04-01T15:00:00.000-04:002023-04-02T16:09:33.087-04:00Spiritual Ether & A Seance Invocation<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWjmZv6Bk7HltTUbffg5CzPmTY4LTavRpmYtaucnb7NfzCAUwEf_RQcf1J25YRwK7H6svUWPLWjlBECxWVp3SSRdKhBqsuAb_Veow4AfhFxoESC7FNOZ6aPWAbVOkNQeFj-B8M/s1600/Elk-Cold-Breath.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="289" data-original-width="609" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWjmZv6Bk7HltTUbffg5CzPmTY4LTavRpmYtaucnb7NfzCAUwEf_RQcf1J25YRwK7H6svUWPLWjlBECxWVp3SSRdKhBqsuAb_Veow4AfhFxoESC7FNOZ6aPWAbVOkNQeFj-B8M/s400/Elk-Cold-Breath.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Below are the opening and closing prayers we used for our mediumship development circle. </div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Regarding the idea and use of "spiritual ether", we are taking our cue directly from the wonderful book, <i>The Mediumship of Arnold Clare</i>, by Harry Edwards, (1942) which goes into great detail about such things as ether, ectoplasm, the astral, etc. as presented by Spirit Participators at various sittings. Here is what the Spirit, "Peter" says about ether and which inspired the Invocation below, as transmitted to August during one of the circle's past sittings. (<a href="https://img1.wsimg.com/blobby/go/b2bbde3b-d714-4d39-919c-0f930ad4181f/downloads/1cba5s914_139244.pdf" target="_blank">pdf of the book accessed here</a>) - there are some extraordinary photos of ectoplasm levitation of furniture and trumpets at the end of the book.</div>
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Other writings you may find of <a href="https://therisenbooks.com/documents" target="_blank">interest are available at The Risen Books website</a>.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif">“When you breathe in always through the nostrils, you are
not only inhaling the air but also the ether stream - the free ether. Now that
ether is characterless, it has no character of itself; but as it passes through
the sieve, as it were - the 'sieve' I said - it receives its character
impressed upon it by the mentality of the breather. This is important. As the
nostrils are the filters for the atmosphere necessary for the wellbeing of the
body, so are they the filters for the ether rejecting all things that are inimical
to the individual, whilst passing on those things that are good. But it works both
ways, for it rejects also those things which cannot be appreciated by the
individual - that is, things spiritual.<br /> </span><o:p><span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif"> </span></o:p><span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif">“Therefore in this practice with inhalation and exhalation
the mind should be gently focused upon the ‘all-greatness’ of the spirit. It
has the effect of creating those conditions which, individually, we have to
create ourselves. “The way of achievement by this method, intelligently
applied, ensures permanency and good health, which, you will notice, many
mediums lack.” Peter was asked to give further information as to what is
received and what is rejected as the ether stream is inhaled. Peter:<br /> </span><o:p><span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif"> </span></o:p><span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif">“The best way to answer is this. The ether stream which is
taken into the system through breathing is characterless in itself. When it has
been breathed in through the normal act of inhalation, it is impressed by the
thought and character of the individual. That is understood. Therefore by
rendering that etheric content more potent, more vital, through control of
thought in breathing, you can transform that stream of ether into a veritable
dynamic force. We have already spoken of the etheric body and the soul body -
they both depend upon the ether inhaled with ordinary breathing for their vitality
and sustenance. The more it is impressed with noble thoughts consciously directed,
the more will the sub-conscious mind be brought into line with things spiritual.
Therefore instead of having a part of your ‘household’, as it were, against
you, you make of the soul a strong ally - the three of you (physical, spiritual
and soul bodies) working all together, as a whole. For it must be remembered
that the soul is the repository of all the experiences to do with the natural
world and that world only. Therefore its desires are primitive; it is selfish.
It is controlled by two strict laws, that of attraction and that of repulsion -
which is oft-times the progenitor of hatred. That is one part.<br /> </span><o:p><span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif"> </span></o:p><span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif">“By breathing rhythmically, the physical body profits from
the air you breathe because it is taken in steadily; and therefore the heart
motion is more regular with the steady supply of oxygen. The ether which is
inhaled with it does not go into the lungs. It is retained by a sieve. The
sieve is contained at the root of the nose, and it is from there it is
dispersed. There it receives the impression of the thought intention - so far
as psychic work is concerned. That is most important. Not only is it important
in the way of physical health, but it also gives a greater etheric vitality. I
think this answers the other part of the question.<br /> </span><o:p><span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif"> </span></o:p><span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif">“When you breathe, it is to breathe with intention and to
say, ‘with each breath I breathe the spirit of life’, ‘Each breath makes me
free’, ‘Each breath makes me stronger spiritually and physically’. It is not
altogether what you would term auto-suggestion, although it is true there is an
element of that; but the idea is to impress the breath with your character,
your idea of the moment. You can use it for weal or woe.” </span></blockquote>
<div style="text-align: center;">
________________________________</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
SÉANCE OPENING INVOCATION<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We gather here now to join together for the purpose of
development, to learn and communicate together in happy harmony and peace, and
to help build spiritual portals between worlds. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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We ask our Guides & Guardians in Spirit to watch over
this place, protect this space with the highest of energies around us.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We invite and welcome all those who are interested in our
highest good and that of the Universe, including Spirits of Nature and of
Animal Beings. We ask that you make your presence and identity known in any way
possible.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We breathe in the spirit ether of the innermost energies of
the fiery core of this planet, Earth.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We breathe in the spirit ether of the geological pressures
of the mineral kingdoms beneath the surface of the Earth<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We breathe in the spirit ether of the ebb and flow of the
crash and thunder of the ocean’s waves.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We breathe in the spirit ether of the ever enfolding light
of the sun, the moon and the stars of the celestial.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We breathe in the spirit ether of the living energies of all
plant life, germinating in the seed, sprouting from the soil, blossoming with
leaves, flowers and fruit into the light of the sun, moon and stars.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We breathe in the spirit ether of the ever moving caress of
the smallest breezes, the gathering thunder and lightning of the greatest of
storms, and the billowing locomotion of the greatest winds of the North, South,
East and West.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We breathe in the spirit ether of all vigorous and vibrant
animal life in which we are immersed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>breathe in the
spirit ether of all the seen and unseen energies that our loving friends in
Spirit bring to us, now and in this coming hour.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We leave all our concerns and worries outside this room for
now, knowing we sit in the warm and safe embrace of Spirit Love, as we ask you
to help us raise our vibration in order to link with yours.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We thank you, friends in Spirit for your love, guidance and
support, amen.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
CLOSING PRAYER<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We close this circle and all portals now with joy, love and
gratitude to our friends in Spirit, and ask that you continue to watch over and
guide us as we leave to go about our worldly lives. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We thank you, friends in Spirit for your love, guidance and
support, amen.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Dialogues of Love, Grief, & Survival Beyond Death — 21st Century Reports from the Afterlife through Contemplative, Intuitive, & Physical Mediumship.</div>August Goforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06748210350055902472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20244508.post-55666625022649044232023-03-07T12:56:00.000-05:002023-03-08T16:57:00.662-05:00Source always is here.<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJiJOQbTHX46E7ZBQMIF-xYeIvZFRuCViO-aoLyThV66Z8jebT_PQj3nKMOjS5VnAKuGBZRsfJEZJMA90V2iV5LJuADE8CEHkPBYFueutM57AW8_OpM12_KZNRdobN-OKaOJjo/s450/desert.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="241" data-original-width="450" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJiJOQbTHX46E7ZBQMIF-xYeIvZFRuCViO-aoLyThV66Z8jebT_PQj3nKMOjS5VnAKuGBZRsfJEZJMA90V2iV5LJuADE8CEHkPBYFueutM57AW8_OpM12_KZNRdobN-OKaOJjo/w400-h214/desert.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Life with all its limitless possibilities is a continual outflow from the Infinite toward which I may turn in any direction that I desire.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> This is so because Source is impersonal and leaves me free to go on any pathway — Source is not concerned or worried about my choice of pathways, which I am mentally and emotionally interpreting as moving toward or away from Source. When I mentally, emotionally move away from Source, I will feel some kind of less-than-good sensation. I cannot actually move away from Source in reality — because Reality Is All There Is — but I can think as if I can. I sometimes forget about my natural, eternal and irreversible freedom that allows me to freely think and move into experience as I so desire. Sometimes, I misinterpret my choice when I listen to and accept — and believe — ego-mind’s declaration that Source has abandoned me and therefore I am “all alone” or “lost”. I have somehow temporarily forgotten that no matter where I think or feel I am, Source always is here.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">(Adapted and expanded from Thomas Troward)</span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Dialogues of Love, Grief, & Survival Beyond Death — 21st Century Reports from the Afterlife through Contemplative, Intuitive, & Physical Mediumship.</div>August Goforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06748210350055902472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20244508.post-35475443688910357942023-03-01T16:44:00.000-05:002023-03-02T21:43:28.698-05:00From The Archives: Vulcan Purple Microdot Muskrat Love<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
[First Posted: February 5, 2011]<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj59LWiHK568KcpKZ5vKezIJgARoSmKPr5pShngvPvE57a8XXw8qXSjENRva-Z0DQPpiJqofsI-NUsjJVl0jHzVQbPd6VHrVq0iMn8Rrgx8Z38QcvNyaiP3DJ9D0JTpeybsLwUS/s1600/bridgekiss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj59LWiHK568KcpKZ5vKezIJgARoSmKPr5pShngvPvE57a8XXw8qXSjENRva-Z0DQPpiJqofsI-NUsjJVl0jHzVQbPd6VHrVq0iMn8Rrgx8Z38QcvNyaiP3DJ9D0JTpeybsLwUS/s320/bridgekiss.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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As a psychotherapist, I have developed what could be called increased, perhaps "extra-sensitive" skills of self-introspection from my own many years of personal therapy, clarified and strengthened by working with others to therapeutically help them discover, develop, and use the same kind of skills. I have been further blessed by such abilities because they have motivated and enabled me to deeply observe the strange and wonderful intimate processes that are part of my mediumship abilities. I've often felt alone in this aspect when it comes to other spirit mediums, comparatively speaking. In the several hundred books on mediums and mediumship subjects in my personal library, and over the course of many years of research, the almost total lack of anyone asking mediums how <i>they </i>felt, what <i>they </i>were experiencing from an internal perspective, or for <i>their</i> own opinions, has become so obvious and glaring that I sometimes wonder if there wasn't some kind of unspoken or even unconscious agenda to avoid or even purposely suppress such important information. If the mediums have been the authors of the books, even they fail to even begin to look beneath the surface of their own psychological processes — and if they have, never indicate it, other than maybe thoughts about certain spiritual processes or religious references. This kind of omission was briefly mentioned in my recent paper, <a href="https://www.scribd.com/document/75975136/Paranthropology-Vol-2-No-1" target="_blank"><i>The Disparity of a “Standards of Care” for Spirit Mediumship as a Permissible Behavioral Health Care Profession</i></a>, as part of an exploration into the kinds of personal ethics mediums may or may not have regarding the practice of their skills. Regarding Carl A. Wickland's use of his wife's mediumship abilities to assist individuals possibly overwhelmed by spirit possession, I note:<br />
<blockquote>
There are no clear indications in his book (<i>Thirty Years Among The Dead</i>) regarding his wife’s mediumistic approaches in terms of her standards of care or ethics. This is not surprising, as historically mediums have been seen more as objective ways and means and less as persons within their own right, and so their own personal and psychological processes have often been overlooked.</blockquote>
It is this phenomenon of objectifying mediums as a ways and means to an end "in the name of science" while ignoring the humanity of the actual medium that raises questions in my mind, as well as feelings of sadness mixed with anger — combining into a frustration which speaks to the inhuman practice of transgressing the personal boundaries of another human being, as if the person were not a person, but a machine or gadget to plug in and then watch. Indeed, I wonder at the use of the word "instrument" many mediums apply to themselves when speaking of their work. I am sure that many mediums would resonate with my feelings when I'm approached by others to "do" readings for them, as if it's some kind of automatic process I can switch on and off, with no regard for me as a person. ("Just let me put my medium's beanie on, first!") Of course, I'm referring to the ego-mind's selfish demands for instant gratification. Never mind that the medium might have some feelings about it. A few modern mediums have sometimes reported how intense mediumship experiences affect them, and a certain part of the western cultures that support mediumship have developed their own set of ethics that have evolved safeguards against behaviours at seances that might interfere with ectoplasmic manifestations and endanger the medium's health and even life. We refer to this in <i>The Risen</i>:<br />
<blockquote>
These “side effects” have been observed by many medium investigators, including C. W. Leadbeater, a well-known figure and prolific writer of the Theosophical Movement. He noted in his research that the “feeling of lassitude and of having the life dragged out of them is naturally terribly common among mediums.” He also likened it to “a condition closely resembling the shock which follows a surgical operation.” (p. 170)</blockquote>
It is from all this slight rant and rambling that I've often wondered, and still do, why few people ask me "what's it like?" Most likely because they aren't really all that concerned. (And so few read this blog, anyway.) But of course, now hoisted by my own petard, I have to confess that I'm not sure how to put it into words if I <i>were </i>asked. I've no doubt that the few attempts made in our book do no more justice to the experience than someone trying to document an LSD trip. In our book, I even once referred to Tim's communications to me as "sounding like a Vulcan on acid."<br />
<br />
I see now all this blather does have a purpose, as I <i>do </i>want to try and share something that recently happened from which a few others might find some kind of understanding arise — or at least to try to reveal some of the wonder of it all. While sitting in session with a patient last evening, who had my attention firmly fastened on some very intense issues of past trauma and present relationship dramas, I was suddenly aware that Tim was standing to the right of me. While there would have been no room for a physical person to be there, he had no problem occupying the same space as a plant stand and a floor lamp. I felt something "shift" in my own space so that I was with him in his own space while he was in mine, and this juxtaposition seemed to bridge any gaps in our dimension so that we were creating a new one, just for the two of us. Somehow, I could now see, hear, touch, feel, and even move in this new dimension with Tim, while I also continued to sit facing my patient, with whom I also continued to see, hear, emotionally feel and interact. All this happened in less than the time it took for an eye to blink or even its pupil to dilate.<br />
<br />
Tim was just standing there, next to me, with me, and said, "Hi, you." And I said back, "Hi, you." And within those four words exchanged, such depths of love, comfort, peace, joy and ecstasy suddenly flared that I thought I would faint (all the while interacting with my patient) while my physical body reacted by crying two huge tears that ran down each cheek. Fortunately, because it was evening and the room was in its usual dimly lit state, my patient couldn't see that I was crying from across the room — but saw or felt <i>something</i>, and suddenly stopped and asked, "Did it just get lighter in here? I'm seeing light on your face, where's it coming from?" and all I could say was, "I don't know ... that's strange." And then just as suddenly my patient seemed to forget what was just said, and sat back and continued talking on as if nothing had happened — a clear demonstration of psychospiritual amnesia if ever I've seen one.<br />
<br />
Tim was still there, and acted as if only he and I were the only ones in time and space, and the only other intelligible thing I can share is that for some indeterminable amount of time, we basked in the sheer joy of being so closely joined by one another's presence — a closeness that cannot be experienced by two people in material human bodies on earth. Then we would "dim" as a light would dim, but then flare up again, over and over, as if we were dialing our feelings up and down for the sheer orgasmic spirit of it all. Finally I had to reach for the box of tissues and pretend to blow my nose, because the tears were flowing down my face with total abandon. And then Tim dimmed, and dimmed some more, and I was left with the unmistakable afterglow of just having made love.<br />
<br />
Maybe that's why mediums don't say much about what's really going on. Never mind.</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Dialogues of Love, Grief, & Survival Beyond Death — 21st Century Reports from the Afterlife through Contemplative, Intuitive, & Physical Mediumship.</div>August Goforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06748210350055902472noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20244508.post-10696858496570210642023-02-25T13:03:00.000-05:002023-02-26T16:31:11.683-05:00What, then, is Authentic Self?<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijkBFT779bl1f8ORizPXmr5vll4NSVmqEY8mjeTP-stwPILLFkhxk5iGPYTB6Zbz7k7NvS4bAXTBrhtGdnsjNfYtCblYNrbUPAI-eH9uUH7Yi3alOtk1bhgLVfcG5lGHik5MFr/s602/frequency.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="337" data-original-width="602" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijkBFT779bl1f8ORizPXmr5vll4NSVmqEY8mjeTP-stwPILLFkhxk5iGPYTB6Zbz7k7NvS4bAXTBrhtGdnsjNfYtCblYNrbUPAI-eH9uUH7Yi3alOtk1bhgLVfcG5lGHik5MFr/w320-h179/frequency.png" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>What, then, is Authentic Self? The ancient dictum “Know Thyself” is the eternal, and private, open-ended answer. Once the question has been raised, the answer can be revealed only as truth reveals itself through our individualized Self of Authorship and its various states of conscious awareness, and as we become aware of the awareness. These states of awareness are experientially known through vibratory sensation, which is feeling.</div><div><br /></div><div><span style="color: #ea9999;"><b><span><i>Authentic Self will inevitably recognize the feeling of its pathless truth in its various states</i></span></b>, thereby recognizing Itself as an eternal, immortal individualization as It moves inwardly from any felt point of “now,” and forever now, forever onward.</span></div><div><br /></div><div>True alignment is tuning myself to the frequency of my Authentic Self. Upon alignment, everything is drawn back into correct placement relative to me. To the degree I allow this placement of the unlimited intelligence of the Universe — which is focused only on Harmony — I become a cooperative component of this Greatest of <i>Harmonia Vitiae</i>. (The Harmony of Life.) Put briefly, alignment is ceasing to include the idea of limitations in my conception of the working of the All-Creating Spirit.</div><p></p><p class="yiv9765987622p1" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 19.5px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Dialogues of Love, Grief, & Survival Beyond Death — 21st Century Reports from the Afterlife through Contemplative, Intuitive, & Physical Mediumship.</div>August Goforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06748210350055902472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20244508.post-32789767049301298572023-02-25T11:16:00.001-05:002023-02-26T16:29:21.385-05:00From the Archives: White Crow or Black Crow?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi64gciVfx-wbpFXQi17wFdDkYCP3oAZlsEYQ2GYKoohwymcIdvhqGaRVonWj5aSqpgiq4tVY0BGQ7wlSEnDMpifuTmXYWzUUPi8DLLzjZbfH2rLVIqFI_a7dgyqlcqKEqHFJnr/s1600/pied_crow-7959.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="crow" border="0" height="320" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463342114571757154" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi64gciVfx-wbpFXQi17wFdDkYCP3oAZlsEYQ2GYKoohwymcIdvhqGaRVonWj5aSqpgiq4tVY0BGQ7wlSEnDMpifuTmXYWzUUPi8DLLzjZbfH2rLVIqFI_a7dgyqlcqKEqHFJnr/w212-h320/pied_crow-7959.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 400px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 265px;" title="White or Black?" width="212" /></a>[First posted 10/2010]<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In the preface to his well-written book, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Articulate-Dead-Michael-E-Tymn/dp/193194248X" target="_blank"><span style="font-style: italic;">The Articulate Dead</span></a>, Mike Tymn, distinguished editor of <span style="font-style: italic;">The Searchligh</span>t of the <a href="http://www.aspsi.org/">Academy of Spirituality and Paranormal Studies</a> shares a comment that researcher Dr. Gary Schwartz made to him, which is that most reporters present with only two opinions, the medium and the debunker; when there are really three sides -- the medium, the skeptic, and the researcher, "...who should begin as a skeptic." (p. xvii) Mike says he sees most of those wearing the "skeptic" badge are really <span style="font-style: italic;">pseudoskeptics</span>, the "fundamentalists of science who are as closeminded as the fundamentalists of religion." They can pick holes here and there, which is not an exact science in itself, but still stuck in their paradigm and taking on a certain "intellectual arrogance." (p. xix)</div>
<br />
Quoting from <a href="http://www.therisenbooks.com/" target="_blank"><span style="font-style: italic;">The Risen</span></a> --<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<blockquote>
"And yet, we do need skeptics. There are scientists who maintain a healthy measure of skepticism about skepticism, and remain open while questioning. This openness has led to emerging, revolutionary scientific models, such as R. A. White’s Experiential Paradigm.<sup><span style="font-size: 85%;">(1) </span></sup> Inspired in part by psychologist Abraham Maslow’s classic work on cognitive-being and his insights from what he called exceptional “plateau” or “peak” human experiences, White asserts that there’s a form of knowing that can only come from having been immersed in a particular experience. This means that the worldview of a medium can only be objectively analyzed after the analyzer has also subjectively experienced it. Mediumistic experiences often take place outside the constraints of space and time and therefore may pose serious challenges to those scientists who have always relied on such matrices in their laboratories. (p. 33)</blockquote>
One might not see evidence of mediumship anywhere, if not seeing and discerning the evidence with the eyes and mind of a medium.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-style: italic;">The Risen</span> itself is not a book manifested for the Professional Skeptic, but for those seeking their own white crow through their being drawn, by spiritual inspiration, toward something higher and finer, which is ultimately within the seeker/researcher. One could venture that the "<span style="font-style: italic;">vasty deep"</span> material of Shakespeare may also have thus been manifested, exceptionally spiritually inspired, evidenced by the great time spent on energetic and robust reactions and responses to its stories and characters, as it continues to stimulate even modern humankind, with its unremitting instance for instant gratification.</div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: 85%;">(1) White, Rhea A., “<a href="http://www.ehe.org/display/ehe-pagee996.html?ID=12" target="_blank">Exceptional Human Experience and the Experiential Paradigm</a>,” ReVision, 1995; #182, 18-25.</span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Dialogues of Love, Grief, & Survival Beyond Death — 21st Century Reports from the Afterlife through Contemplative, Intuitive, & Physical Mediumship.</div>August Goforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06748210350055902472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20244508.post-56210867431552813222022-12-23T11:07:00.002-05:002022-12-23T11:10:28.786-05:00The Golden Key - Guided Audio<p style="text-align: center;"> THE GOLDEN KEY</p><p style="text-align: center;">by Emmett Fox</p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Scientific Prayer will enable you, sooner or later, to get yourself, or anyone else, out of any difficulty on the face of the earth. It is the Golden Key to harmony and happiness. To those who have no acquaintance with the mightiest power in existence, this may appear to be a rash claim, but it needs only a fair trial to prove that, without a shadow of doubt, it is a just one. You need to take no one’s word for it, and you should not. Simply try it for yourself, and see.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">To listen and download an audio rendition of The Golden Key, as read by August Goforth, go</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://img1.wsimg.com/blobby/go/b2bbde3b-d714-4d39-919c-0f930ad4181f/downloads/GoldenKeyAG.12-14.mp3?ver=1671063655581" target="_blank">HERE</a></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmHaSsBCO47zyc0_uVoTRdu-Oc2D3SCJGBKDrzDMq8NBEW9P7CTeNKJqhVvXle63vkoPCEqqNexouoGO7oaqzT5WKcUUQECasCipbm7eebA-FqciahPRov9VHmrvDdOCo_jnLs5jlZ8DghoklI64CkJdDVc-A2r5YN1lbJkeM-npemAXbmGA/s1280/golden-key-FB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1280" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmHaSsBCO47zyc0_uVoTRdu-Oc2D3SCJGBKDrzDMq8NBEW9P7CTeNKJqhVvXle63vkoPCEqqNexouoGO7oaqzT5WKcUUQECasCipbm7eebA-FqciahPRov9VHmrvDdOCo_jnLs5jlZ8DghoklI64CkJdDVc-A2r5YN1lbJkeM-npemAXbmGA/w400-h400/golden-key-FB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Dialogues of Love, Grief, & Survival Beyond Death — 21st Century Reports from the Afterlife through Contemplative, Intuitive, & Physical Mediumship.</div>August Goforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06748210350055902472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20244508.post-7366190019817657782022-12-19T11:10:00.004-05:002022-12-19T11:10:37.172-05:00Peace on Earth<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGRBPZKQ1Ifgp0yG_P_wztmQvt6L_Ct2jGkVzKJkN-x8QOyR8KhV37-bZSNuoquabj9yt-7IPqEJaKvEuSND7MexGUwRmH4mh66QKfRWoL7QXnoEjj7mD6lI8Ek3_GS9jxin1Q74RLmIohu1q-gchUQaJyHqFXWx-1lNQb__tfzj51CXnxbQ/s918/CatsFiona.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="918" data-original-width="914" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGRBPZKQ1Ifgp0yG_P_wztmQvt6L_Ct2jGkVzKJkN-x8QOyR8KhV37-bZSNuoquabj9yt-7IPqEJaKvEuSND7MexGUwRmH4mh66QKfRWoL7QXnoEjj7mD6lI8Ek3_GS9jxin1Q74RLmIohu1q-gchUQaJyHqFXWx-1lNQb__tfzj51CXnxbQ/w399-h400/CatsFiona.jpg" width="399" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Dialogues of Love, Grief, & Survival Beyond Death — 21st Century Reports from the Afterlife through Contemplative, Intuitive, & Physical Mediumship.</div>August Goforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06748210350055902472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20244508.post-57560209163435915322022-12-13T12:05:00.000-05:002022-12-13T12:05:02.470-05:00Faoiseamh <p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Faoiseamh </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8io1aaQA09_7VC5P8iFZhmTZ2xkdMmDRiw3UwSPtI2pYJbUmxVsW_ERAnDTrXEFFaqEK2JJuke9tyAOyTKvBxTNcrPIP-ifbytY1rGdE5Q6H2YQboph9IwBaEybwRZmDqMFkmXK5bSNAq_0IkDUxcrLWG5gzWO428q_SmVp-Oh96LDv-ZpQ/s260/319160256_6345178402177067_7325778364258285193_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="236" data-original-width="260" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8io1aaQA09_7VC5P8iFZhmTZ2xkdMmDRiw3UwSPtI2pYJbUmxVsW_ERAnDTrXEFFaqEK2JJuke9tyAOyTKvBxTNcrPIP-ifbytY1rGdE5Q6H2YQboph9IwBaEybwRZmDqMFkmXK5bSNAq_0IkDUxcrLWG5gzWO428q_SmVp-Oh96LDv-ZpQ/s1600/319160256_6345178402177067_7325778364258285193_n.jpg" width="260" /></a></div><br /><p>Some photos of a reliquary box fashioned for Fiona's ashes - the splendiferous work of Scottish craftsman, Dr. Martin Wilson, artisan of Hatch, Burn, Carve.</p><p>Built from seasoned Scottish Oak with inset river slate, carved with runes for her name, and a rendition of the Aquila Constellation.</p><p>The bardo of grief I've been encapsulated within for many months has finally washed up on the new shore, and the box's arrival at my doorstep today opens a new door into more light.</p><p>Martin is accepting commissions at this time - see (https://www.facebook.com/hatchburnandcarve). More on his work: (https://hatchburnandcarve.wordpress.com/)</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgj7vA8R-mwh5Wy9bO6bQ92aScBH2d5aevtDNHieWh2o_4lPaoc6KYUXuqReLmoaLNjWSsNhvAS5hvRuZvfMe27c7ZnNbTpVJOM25BLdT6mi0r-PNgJGG8WuwnSYy3D-NDRM6DYuF_BvYPBlAYjqnmKvWw-T_ocKCkUqy56-mNYcNaCKUNsQ/s3843/Arrival.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1960" data-original-width="3843" height="163" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgj7vA8R-mwh5Wy9bO6bQ92aScBH2d5aevtDNHieWh2o_4lPaoc6KYUXuqReLmoaLNjWSsNhvAS5hvRuZvfMe27c7ZnNbTpVJOM25BLdT6mi0r-PNgJGG8WuwnSYy3D-NDRM6DYuF_BvYPBlAYjqnmKvWw-T_ocKCkUqy56-mNYcNaCKUNsQ/s320/Arrival.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWdVd0QIspDLGUBunTxn6AsdUPlTT-zmVxZrJZi3AxlFneg8hSBy0WGxRPEYI6TM-w5KCUO8K6fKMyNrR1vkPYoXC1aVViypZUp1fCB8jiLrFVJNCZgBbNA6LaiEj592a6CFVoim6QvZxQrVRBav-0sNFzoxds9BZhiFpi1kB2pmut0Bol_Q/s1536/Back%201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4uN5W9hAd_4HHN54qprZpejbsgY8m6I1i2e7rXpm1mQVYa92EIlVVjZByInBO_x42i-ut1dH_uxF0hiYj_HZyP6S11P2k8x8JW4mZsbfRWkvt30Y-TLEQxqFvLkK0o_BJNP6BWTQlFQ2dpKPc7wF-8SxihB2ZQHMbby3LQEmWPflPGLBdgQ/s1536/Front%202.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1536" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4uN5W9hAd_4HHN54qprZpejbsgY8m6I1i2e7rXpm1mQVYa92EIlVVjZByInBO_x42i-ut1dH_uxF0hiYj_HZyP6S11P2k8x8JW4mZsbfRWkvt30Y-TLEQxqFvLkK0o_BJNP6BWTQlFQ2dpKPc7wF-8SxihB2ZQHMbby3LQEmWPflPGLBdgQ/s320/Front%202.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKGrnv9y7uqF8tCf11b4ndzc2AnfRteBveE7zYgWF5FSsw62VOYODFBYr4AafTj5d2v4CG6QMSlb7ysRmLRDyb1QzvGLeoipWwtWsoA4Vsi5nkkQ51NM47trdTxb7gl1Zu197ObqJ9cP-O4bJm3-Bjp3iQ2HveAIMHKLEQzzGz-yXju-M1_g/s1536/Open%201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKGrnv9y7uqF8tCf11b4ndzc2AnfRteBveE7zYgWF5FSsw62VOYODFBYr4AafTj5d2v4CG6QMSlb7ysRmLRDyb1QzvGLeoipWwtWsoA4Vsi5nkkQ51NM47trdTxb7gl1Zu197ObqJ9cP-O4bJm3-Bjp3iQ2HveAIMHKLEQzzGz-yXju-M1_g/s320/Open%201.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgg1iJ7loFbhWGrjykpnQfk7OA81fs3Ew7DxeIRMIfF_Z5EPWNdRHCcg4o4TxlHzWrLQ0WbDtGhJrlVercOqPyVnCUUCfxgwYQEHx9BG55HOwxJS2KHHjXposftT_wx8ww4ySERGBgrkH0tIdJYXprRpsVvUfFwtwgdWQPs3WXczuXysrQ7A/s1536/Slate%201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1536" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgg1iJ7loFbhWGrjykpnQfk7OA81fs3Ew7DxeIRMIfF_Z5EPWNdRHCcg4o4TxlHzWrLQ0WbDtGhJrlVercOqPyVnCUUCfxgwYQEHx9BG55HOwxJS2KHHjXposftT_wx8ww4ySERGBgrkH0tIdJYXprRpsVvUfFwtwgdWQPs3WXczuXysrQ7A/s320/Slate%201.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Dialogues of Love, Grief, & Survival Beyond Death — 21st Century Reports from the Afterlife through Contemplative, Intuitive, & Physical Mediumship.</div>August Goforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06748210350055902472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20244508.post-246813793324478462022-11-29T13:54:00.002-05:002022-11-29T13:54:46.102-05:00Awareness of Eternal Connection<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim3ZoK2oNBVbj1n4OmnAQqTksstKaUdPOeuo4zL6UrO_PMxK_OaIV8Lhuc25XjqpZMpteEBKiYlXIirq6_yC830h9WeP-am3KkHMhw9PHAOMGBi-kB0DFoLTBiJ--5d1SpL1leCJRM5Dx3pGh2Z-IRxbtufwCGmU3Ftc_2zmFSipymlf5cig/s1395/Leaf1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1395" data-original-width="929" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim3ZoK2oNBVbj1n4OmnAQqTksstKaUdPOeuo4zL6UrO_PMxK_OaIV8Lhuc25XjqpZMpteEBKiYlXIirq6_yC830h9WeP-am3KkHMhw9PHAOMGBi-kB0DFoLTBiJ--5d1SpL1leCJRM5Dx3pGh2Z-IRxbtufwCGmU3Ftc_2zmFSipymlf5cig/s320/Leaf1.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><p>Awareness of Eternal Connection equals 𝗔𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗔𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗻𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁. This is also sometimes called “Tuning In to Source: That Which Is Always Here”. There can be no actual disconnection, merely a fear-based misthought that creates a less-than-good feeling. Because thought channels or conducts power, it can create appearances of variations of reality. It’s then up to an individual — consciously knowing that one is irrevocably free to do so — to trust the feeling that tells and guides one to a truth of that reality. 𝗔𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗔𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗻𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 is experiencing everything, and so is everything.</p><p>𝙄𝙣 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨 . . .</p><p>Being tuned into Source is the feeling of full conscious awareness — or — the feeling of full conscious awareness is — 𝑩𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 — which is tuned into Source. </p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Dialogues of Love, Grief, & Survival Beyond Death — 21st Century Reports from the Afterlife through Contemplative, Intuitive, & Physical Mediumship.</div>August Goforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06748210350055902472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20244508.post-53079730871047976712022-10-29T13:53:00.005-04:002022-10-29T13:55:10.809-04:00Afterlife Book Club Guest<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIDIWvQq5LJarzkyi-OCXMBjdWJKKORODSFnanAzISdWj9p1fMDRw42Fz5twFxWhxXCHHB_E8LNZlxgwnEiUQE96ACEFuQ7HUih7DJxNdy4bagXCGRVVanIeul5tIFCXpxJGaWgJD7wQnxjTk95a9jMMBwP-k-jqBPNJryQUGxJcOIKbElbg/s1600/2nd%20Ed%202017%20Cover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1057" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIDIWvQq5LJarzkyi-OCXMBjdWJKKORODSFnanAzISdWj9p1fMDRw42Fz5twFxWhxXCHHB_E8LNZlxgwnEiUQE96ACEFuQ7HUih7DJxNdy4bagXCGRVVanIeul5tIFCXpxJGaWgJD7wQnxjTk95a9jMMBwP-k-jqBPNJryQUGxJcOIKbElbg/s320/2nd%20Ed%202017%20Cover.jpg" width="211" /></a></div><br /> <p class="MsoNormal">August Goforth will be the guest of the Afterlife Book Club
this Thursday, November 3 - see the global timetable below - (They meet 1st
Thursday of the month at 6 p.m. California time. Book Club led by Gary Langley
on Zoom)<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">************************<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://img1.wsimg.com/blobby/go/b2bbde3b-d714-4d39-919c-0f930ad4181f/downloads/RisenDialogues2ndEd.pdf?ver=1665278013270" target="_blank">Download free pdf of this month's book <i>The Risen Dialogue</i>s,
by August Goforth</a><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Times<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Pacific and Arizona time 6.00 p.m. Thursday<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Mountain Daylight time 7.00 p.m. Thursday<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Central Daylight time 8 p.m. Thursday<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">New York time 9 p.m. Thursday<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sydney/Melbourne 12 noon Friday <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">New Zealand 2 p.m. Friday<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Check time in your city<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Contact: garylangley@earthlink.net<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Zoom: https://zoom.us/j/3155117825?pwd=RWtBOVJRRFJP<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">TmpxWlNKUXo3bWlmQT09<o:p></o:p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Dialogues of Love, Grief, & Survival Beyond Death — 21st Century Reports from the Afterlife through Contemplative, Intuitive, & Physical Mediumship.</div>August Goforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06748210350055902472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20244508.post-1137942722284586292022-10-15T13:52:00.000-04:002022-10-15T13:52:00.195-04:00From The Archives: Whence wetness?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
[First Posted 1/22/06]<br />
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<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1695/2024/1600/q4.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1695/2024/320/q4.jpg" style="cursor: hand; float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px;" /></a><br />
"The <i>activity</i> of Ultimate Reality, the Supreme Power, resembles most closely the human experience which we call <i>imagining</i>. When God imagines, He creates. Nothing can exist <i>outside</i> the Divine Imagining . . . Reasoning is a useful creation of human imagining, but on the Divine level it is inconceivable and would be a defect. It is in any case 'about' reality: it can only attend to abstracted aspects and concepts. <i>But the higher Imagining is essentially concrete</i>."*<br />
—Raynor C. Johnson, in <i>Nurslings of Immortality</i> <sup>1</sup><br />
<br />
The first sentence of the above quote was also used in <i>The Risen</i> to introduce the main thread, <i>the imaginal</i>, or the sum of who we are—all our activity, individual and collective, including desire, intention and will—which originates and emanates from the I AM. Individually and collectively, we are the I AM.<br />
<br />
I AM is the <b><i>feeling</i></b> of the realization of who we are, and this is, quite, quite literally, <i>imagination</i>. It is then easily observed— also, quite, quite literally— that to imagine is to live. To be aware of this feeling of life and of living is the beginning of realizing the fact of one's immortality. Quietly sitting with the feeling of I AM —nameless, wordless, timeless — and fearless — allows the ego mind and its many personality disguises to fall away, back into the nothingness from which they came. What remains?<br />
<br />
"Pooh!" (or pshaw, or even tcha!) — "You're imagining things!" one may retort.<br />
<br />
"Excellent! Exactly!" say we, and "By jove, you've got it!"<br />
<br />
As much as I like to assume that the above should be sufficient for anyone to not only grasp but to resonate with fully and immediately, my Risen friends are quietly shaking their heads back and forth, which, in Risen parlance means, "slow down, pardner."<br />
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In order for that which is "higher" to be able to reside in that which is "lower," (higher and lower being conceptual states) the lower must be sufficiently <i>prepared</i> to receive it. This takes time—at least, time as experienced within the manifested material world. There is an experience of delay. Some view this process, within the mix of time and space, as "evolution"—which it is in a certain sense—but only <i>within the greater context of the Design</i>. Evolution is a certain type of stitch designed and used to help weave the Great Weaving of our particular universe, as designed by certain Designers.<br />
<br />
You are being teased, now, and jarred slightly from the subject. This is not about Intelligent Design—not yet, perhaps—but rather about <i>imagination</i>. Few readers will have in their possession, as do I, the rare copies of R.C. Johnson's works, and even fewer, <a href="http://www.kessingerpub.com/searchresults_orderthebook.php?Title=12875#0">those</a> of writer-philosopher E. Douglas Fawcett.<sup>2</sup> The Risen have utilized both authors as reference sources that best come near an earthly elucidation of the grasp of their collective experience. This is because the Risen had been the inspiration for their work. There are others who received this kind of inspiration and wrote about it as well, to which I hope they will refer at some point. My Risen team members were able to achieve resonance with me through these works (by jove, he's got it!) and they feel that here, we could share some more of mainly Johnson's work to also catalyze beginning resonance. I also hope that Johnson and Fawcett might feel inspired to communicate with us here at some point.<br />
<br />
To achieve this resonance is to stimulate a higher—that is, faster, finer, and more sensitive—vibration of focused light—this focus of light <i>is</i> an individual—in order to give way to an expansion that is a receptive <i>quality</i> that will allow more light to be received. This expansion is one's immortality. As one might already intuit here, this is not evolution, but recalibration, transmutation, metamorphosis—which fits much more neatly into a quantum mechanic idea of the nature of how it all works—although quantum mechanics is really what's being pieced into the picture by Divine Imagination.<br />
<br />
At one moment, one is <i>here</i>. In the next moment—which is the <i>same</i> moment—one is also <i>there</i>. And now (literally, <i>now</i>) <i>there</i> contains <i>here. </i>When one is <i>consciously aware</i> of this sense of beingness, the result is <i>expansion</i>. New qualities arise—or <i>novelty</i>—and rather than being renewed, one is now <i>anewed</i>. Although there is no such word as the past tense of <i>anew</i>, we are making it here for our purposes. "Anew" itself has two definitions, which both mesh together perfectly to deliver the intent of the meaning of "anewed":<br />
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1. Once more; again.<br />
2. In a new and different way, form, or manner.<br />
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Put them together and we have "anewed" or <i>novelty</i>.<br />
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Transmutation, or anewed, is what happens when one element within the lower field of earthly manifestation is brought into the presence of another such element or elements. Note that anewed is not equal to <i>renewed</i>.<br />
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Consider salt. Hmmm. Salty. Or is it really?<br />
<br />
By combining two completely separate elements, an atom of sodium and an atom of chloride, (chlorine) the novelty molecule, sodium chloride (NaCl) manifests. Individually, each substance is toxic to the human body. Neither sodium nor choloride are "salty" when on their own. Neither are they salty when together. They still remain intact, to separated by various means. But when together, something new and miraculous occurs. Suddenly there is a new <i>quality</i> that did not exist before. There is now the quality, the <i>experience</i> of "saltiness." Further, the new substance is no longer toxic to the human body, but an actual source of nourishment.<br />
<br />
What accounts for "saltiness"? Where does it come from? Is it there if nobody is also there to experience it? Science not only doesn't know this answer, it doesn't ask this kind of question. It's satisfied enough with the "discovery" of NaCl and how this is useful to them. Quantity, not quality.<br />
<br />
Consider water— H<sub>2</sub>O. Neither hydrogen nor oxygen exhibit "wetness" when apart. When brought together, at once there is "wetness." Whence wetness?<br />
<br />
"For where two or three are gathered together in my name, <i>I am</i> there in the midst of them."<sup>3</sup> This verse is often used to indicate to contemporary Christians that when two or more believers get together, Jesus is somehow more present in that situation than he is when a Christian is alone.<br />
<br />
Perhaps so. However, there are many layers in the Bible that are evident to those who "have eyes and ears," depending on their level of awareness of I AM.<br />
<br />
At the metaphysical level, this verse reads something like this: "For when one experience of I AM is with at least one other experience of I AM, the two remain two <i>and</i> simultaneously share the additional, new, and expanded experience of the oneness of I AM."<br />
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So when two "lower" are brought together, something "higher" is able to "descend" and manifest something <i>entirely unrelated</i> but still connected to the two. Novelty!<br />
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It is as <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alfred_North_Whitehead">Alfred North Whitehead </a>insisted:<br />
<br />
<i>"Nature is a dull affair, soundless, scentless, colourless; merely the hurrying of material, endlessly, meaninglessly."<br />
</i><br />
Sodium and choloride have no saltiness; oxygen and hydrogen have no wetness. When brought together, unless YOU are there to do the tasting, there will never be saltiness or wetness. The imagination brings them together; not just the imagination heretofore thought of as an aspect of unreality, a person's "flight of fancy"-- but our imagination as the Creator Source, the I AM, and which is who we each and collectively are. We bring all things into manifestation. Just by being who we are.<br />
<br />
Raynor's statement that the essence of Higher Imagining is "concrete" (at the beginning of this post) is intriguing. There are several definitions in the dictionary for "concrete," and two of them mesh together to render his meaning:<br />
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1. Existing in reality or in real experience; perceptible by the senses; real: concrete objects such as trees.<br />
2. Formed by the coalescence of separate particles or parts into one mass; solid.<br />
<br />
This may sound quite alien and even unreasonable to many people for the first or 99th time. Raynor suggests this is because reasoning doesn't work past a certain point. He refers to reasoning as a "defect" — were it even possible for reason to happen on the higher levels. Here, "defect" is meant as a deficiency — the lack of something necessary or desirable for completion or perfection. It's not enough.<br />
<br /> There is no observable reason for sodium and chloride to make salt. Reason can only go so far. There <i>is</i> a sort of "rhyme" to this, if one understands rhyme as vibration (sound/light) placed next to another sound/light vibration, and the combined resonance gives something new to the experience and understanding. Another word for this is poetry, or music, or even painting. In essence "art." Life, then, on the level of worldly manifestation, is art.<br />
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_____________________<br />
<sup>1</sup> R. C. Johnson, Nurslings of Immortality. London: Hodder and Stoughton, Ltd., 1957.<br />
<sup>2</sup> Fawcett, Douglas. The Zermatt Dialogues. London: Macmillan & Co., 1931.<br />
Fawcett, Douglas. The Oberland Dialogues. London: Macmillan & Co., 1939.<br />
<sup>3</sup> Matthew, Chapter 18, verse 20. (<i>italics</i> mine)<br />
* italics ours. <br />
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Dialogues of Love, Grief, & Survival Beyond Death — 21st Century Reports from the Afterlife through Contemplative, Intuitive, & Physical Mediumship.</div>August Goforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06748210350055902472noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20244508.post-1160606652417655402022-10-04T19:34:00.000-04:002022-10-04T19:34:08.537-04:00From the Archives: The Case of the Red Hat<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1695/2024/1600/139917133x.0.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1695/2024/320/139917133x.0.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 122px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 144px;" /></a><br />
Those who have a copy of our book, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Risen-Dialogues-Grief-Survival-Beyond/dp/0578031310/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1255109450&sr=1-1"><span style="font-style: italic;">The Risen</span></a>, may have noticed in the dedication in the front:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-style: italic;">To Zoë</span><br />
<span style="font-style: italic;">~ Who Witnessed the Red Hat ~</span></div>
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<br />
Several readers have asked about it. Here is the story behind it, as reported in this blog in October of 2006. Zoë, now a little older and wiser, still remembers it, and has herself experienced her own odd events similar to this since then, and also still has the appropriate response: she laughs.<br />
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The week I spent camping on Lake Champlain in the Adirondack Mountains went by faster than I thought, but I'm glad all the same to get back to the place I call home. (and 2 kittens are especially glad!)<br />
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While I never saw "Champ" - the alleged "Loch Ness Monster of Lake Champlain" - I did have a very intriguing experience that was unique in my already very strange life. I have yet to figure it out, but haven't really pursued it yet, just letting it rest a bit. There doesn't seem to be any of the "psychospiritual amnesia" effects that I've cited in <em>The Risen</em> and are usually associated with Risen contact, as the details are crisp and clear in my memory; nor did I have to struggle to retain the information. Of course, it was observed and corroborated by another person, so perhaps that "solidified" it in some way.<br />
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I was traveling in a car with 2 friends and their 9 year-old daughter, Zoë -- who's also my fairy god-daughter (long story) when we stopped for gas in one of the many small towns in that part of the state. We noticed that they had firewood for sale, which we needed, so I started to get out of the car to go buy some. My red baseball cap, which had a large "Strand Bookstore" logo on the front, had been lying on the seat next to me, and I reached over and put it on my head as I got out of the car. Immediately I found that for some reason, it wouldn't fit on my head -- it was too small!<br />
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My hat was a faded red, and the Strand logo was sewn directly into the hat. Z. was still sitting there, so I asked her if it was her hat. She looked at me and laughed, and said no. I countered with that it wasn't mine, so whose could it be? Did it belong to Mom or Dad? Nope. Did she ever see it before? Nope. Hmmmm. So where was <em>my</em> hat?<br />
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I took it off and looked at it, to discover that it wasn't my hat; rather it was a plain hat with no logo on it. True, it was red, but a very bright, new-looking red; it seemed to be made of some kind of bizarre material, not really fabric, and not really plastic, but something in-between; it looked as if it had a very fine "weave" but it was fake, as if a picture of a weave. It had the feel of an object that someone tried to copy without really knowing what the object was or what its function was. I now regret that I never had the presence of mind to take a picture of it; alas I was not one of those wed to their cell-phone!<br />
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I carefully explained to Z. what my hat looked like. I put the strange hat down on the seat where I was sitting. While she looked for mine, I got out of the car and showed it to her mother who was walking towards me. All I got was strange laughs when I complained that somehow my hat got switched with this little inferior one; it was just assumed "August was having one of his 'spells' " --they are used to my trances and other nonesuchnesses, and usually don't ask too many questions. "Look at it," I insisted, "it doesn't even fit on my head! I'm not crazy!" Taking it in stride, my friend continued to walk towards me and said that the firewood was inferior, so not to bother, we'd get some elsewhere.<br />
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That was fine with me. I turned around and got back in the car and picked up the hat I had left lying on the seat. Only it was <em>my</em> hat, the Strand hat! I looked at it in disbelief. I stopped Z from her searches and said I'd found mine. But where had it been to begin with? And now where was the <em>other</em> one, the smaller, redder, plain one?<br />
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It was nowhere to be found.<br />
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Immediately Z. and I began tearing the back seat apart and then the far back of the car, looking for the hat. I kept my own jammed firmly on my head. We never found the mystery cap. Not then, and not the next day, nor the next. And my friends continued to insist that they didn't own such a cap to begin with.<br />
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Z. and I went over and over this event for the next few days; and then she would go to the car and search for the cap we had both briefly seen before it disappeared. We felt bonded by this mysterious trip to the Twilight Zone, and will probably remember it as one of the main highlights of our camping trip -- even more than our visit to Santa's Workshop!</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Dialogues of Love, Grief, & Survival Beyond Death — 21st Century Reports from the Afterlife through Contemplative, Intuitive, & Physical Mediumship.</div>August Goforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06748210350055902472noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20244508.post-63946962959678479872022-09-22T20:17:00.001-04:002022-09-22T20:18:40.034-04:00An Exploratorium with Wendy Zammit <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ-XaTAJoM-BJ3PJaGH9Mk_yGbnzaiF94Gv6DUysaEgq2JS11V6Od1IMUlKDIhTqLX3WKEx-EgN89nRJylCv__sN57f54GOG8u3O7QcOlTQFZCMrUhkIsJkH6cAoRdeFG8dLmy6IvbNISOzxZuC4EUKEWrlbl3LRR4BNAMOW39ay6Y5YMc4g/s813/WendyYoutube.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="564" data-original-width="813" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ-XaTAJoM-BJ3PJaGH9Mk_yGbnzaiF94Gv6DUysaEgq2JS11V6Od1IMUlKDIhTqLX3WKEx-EgN89nRJylCv__sN57f54GOG8u3O7QcOlTQFZCMrUhkIsJkH6cAoRdeFG8dLmy6IvbNISOzxZuC4EUKEWrlbl3LRR4BNAMOW39ay6Y5YMc4g/s320/WendyYoutube.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">September 18, 2022 . </div><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_bTGUnQ36dM&t=4s" target="_blank">August leads a participatory "Exploratorium"</a> where readers of his book "<a href="https://www.lulu.com/shop/august-goforth/the-risen-dialogues/paperback/product-23106895.html?page=1&pageSize=4" target="_blank">The Risen Dialogues</a>" offer ponderings and ideas, for the purpose of a group explorational dialogue, utilizing those aspects of the book that most intrigue them.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Edited down from 3 hours!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">August has agreed to a once-monthly "Spiritual Exploratorium" hosted by <a href="https://www.varanormal.com/calendar/event/165-afterlife-book-club-with-host-gary-langley/" target="_blank">Gary Langley of The Afterlife Book Club</a>. TBD - Check our Blog for updated info. </span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Dialogues of Love, Grief, & Survival Beyond Death — 21st Century Reports from the Afterlife through Contemplative, Intuitive, & Physical Mediumship.</div>August Goforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06748210350055902472noreply@blogger.com0