(Taking a short breather from the “Politics and the Human Spirit” series as we approach the Presidential election here in the States and my mind churns away tirelessly on politics as a background task… ever working to boil out my “liberal bias” for the sake of this blog. Will try to get the next political article done in the next few days. Meanwhile….)
So, what do you want to be when you die?… a new twist on the old question we ask our kids about their dreams of growing up.
That question’s been on my mind a lot lately. What do I want to be when I die?
Not because I plan to die anytime soon… I seem to be in pretty good health at the moment.
But because in the past decade or two I’ve developed an intimate awareness of my spiritual nature… the fact that at some level I’m involved in an endless rapport with my invisible friends.
I often get their impressions when I’m daydreaming or waking up in the morning, when the clatter of my normal waking mind (what’s sometimes called the “monkey mind”) has settled down for awhile.
A Paradise Kind of Guy
Usually it’s a peaceful rapport with paradise people of good will. I get a sense of encouragement from invisible minds. I get inspirations for my writing. I get valuable insights into people in my life….
Sometimes, though, if I’m stressed over this or that petty crisis, the impressions from in-beyond become more taunting and mischievous. They play on my fears… dealing me anything from bad investment advice to an urge to indulge in bad habits.
Whether I’m attuned to the finer spiritual influences—the bearers of good will—or the demagogues from the denser shadow worlds who wanna’ get down and dirty… it’s just a matter of resonance… and I seem to be the guy in charge of the tuner.
I have some control over my rapport with the “in-beyond.” (I think we all do.) By refocusing my mind and attitude from my (largely self-invented) troubles, to my love of life and my connection to “the source,” the darker impressions disappear—sometimes slowly, sometimes immediately—to be replaced by finer impressions from places of light.
Anyway, in recent years I’ve had this perpetual knowing that the dramas that are constantly being stirred up in my day-to-day life here on Earth—while they might seem all-consuming and substantial—are really just illusions that my carnal body happens to be romping around in… getting all juiced up about.
I have this constant awareness that I’ll eventually leave the Earth and “return home” to be among my invisible friends in those subtle paradise worlds.
Getting to Paradise
I know that how I navigate through life is helping to determine my afterlife… where I’ll land and what I’ll do when I die.
If I keep my paradise bearing, setting my course by the timeless stars of ethereal beings and the omniscient glow of the central sun…
… if I’m grateful for the steady tradewinds of inspiration and support…
… if I steer clear of dark currents of troubled thinking…
… if I avoid the storms of pernicious attack that can be avoided, and if I stay strong through those that can’t…
… if I stay on course through it all…
… then I know that when it’s time to drop anchor, I’ll be safe in the harbors of paradise.
What To Do in Paradise
Then I’ll face the big question: What do I want to do when I die and get settled in paradise.
I’m sure I’m not alone in saying that a lifetime on this noble-savage planet has been a bittersweet experience of pleasures and blessings… of bumps and bruises. So there’s a big, conscious part of me that wants forget the Earth like a bizarre dream, abandoning everything but the loves I’ve shared. Other than those heart connections I’ve forged over the years with certain people, I’d like to forget the Earth completely and immerse myself in finer realities. That’s what I really want… consciously.
At the same time, I know I was recruited into ITC for a purpose, and I’ve devoted my life to learning everything I could learn about life on Earth.
So… when the time comes, I suspect my higher mind is going to quell the rebellion going on in my conscious mind, and I’ll do the responsible thing… which is apparently what other late ITC pioneers decided.
Konstantin Raudive said it was obviously his calling to continue ITC work after he died.
Bill O’Neil, who developed Spiricom around 1980, had a more difficult time deciding. He wrestled with the question of what he wanted to do after he died in 1991, as Maggy Fischbach explained in a letter to me.
To paraphrase Maggy’s letter: before his death, Bill had been struggling with alcoholism and mental illness, which got him stuck for a short time in what I’ve come to call the shadow worlds of spirit—a place of darkness and confusion. He was described by our spirit friends as a man of good essence which was clouded by his sickness. Because of his good essence and pioneering ITC work, he was soon brought to the paradise world where Timestream spirit group was busy sending ITC information to us on Earth. Bill had a discussion with ethereal beings (The Seven) to decide whether he wanted to continue with ITC work from spiritside (since he has a natural aptitude for interdimensional bridging), or whether he wanted to move on to other interests.
Bill eventually decided on ITC, and he began working closely with me during my radio experiments in the mid 1990s.
Read that letter (on page 28 of the linked report)
A German woman named Edith Koerner Schoenhied had a more interesting adventure before she decided to pursue ITC. Here are excerpts from a letter received through ITC systems in Luxembourg in 1995. The letter was from an island girl in the spirit worlds:
I, Mootai, will now tell you a tale, a tale that happened just as you will read it now. I was sitting in the bay near the lagoon, and it was quiet. The slopes with the coconut palms and the pourau trees were gleaming silver in the moonlight. I remembered that I once lived at a similar lagoon, long, long ago on another island.
Suddenly I heard a noise accompanied by the noa-noa of the hibiscus blossoms and the tiare blossoms. It was that same noise that one always hears when the tunnel is opening. A black point, first only as big as a coconut, began to grow and grow until it was as wide as a large wooden cask. The noise was like a rustle and gurgle, also like the roar of water as it lashes at the outer edge of a coral reef. The whole event was accompanied by colors that revolve around the black entrance of the tunnel — rich colors of cobalt blue, aquamarine and turquoise.
One of the Light beings, which we also call the People of the Rainbow, came out of the tunnel. I, Mootai, knelt down and closed my eyes in awe. Then I looked up and the twilight of the night went into broad daylight. The Light being was carrying a woman in his arms, a sight that at first frightened me because she was old and her hair was gray, her skin white, and she was sleeping the dead sleep.
“Here,” I was told by the one from the People of the Rainbow, “I bring you this woman to take care of. She was living with the name Edith Koerner and she went through much sorrow and pain. Now that she has finished her mortal life she shall rest among your people and recover from the dead sleep. Then we shall see . . .”
Everyone of our tribe liked her very much and she took part in the activities of the people. Especially she was interested in our customs of getting-in-touch, important ceremonies in which we tell songs to the gods and burn herbs which give off a vapor through which we can see into your world.
Maupai Hartmann, who is of white skin too and has been with us for many years, often and long talked with her about his journeys into other regions along the River of Eternity. The two were like brother and sister.The more Edith heard about the world outside our tribe, the more restless she became.
One day she couldn’t stand it here with us anymore and, at her request, Maupai Hartmann took her along in his boat with sail that was driven by energy of the suns. The whole tribe stood along the shore to say goodbye. Under the stars the two embarked for the station which they call Timestream, as Edith knows people of her family there and she will help the great white doctor who talks with picture boxes and sound boxes and whose magic is so strong that word of it has spread even here to the lagoon.
Read the entire article here (page 12 of the linked journal)
So, again, what will I be doing after I die?
Well, a hundred years ago it would have sounded crazy to think that someone could pick up a wireless device and talk to someone on the other side of the ocean, in another country. Today it’s mainstream.
Today it sounds crazy to think that someone could pick up a phone and talk to someone on the other side of the veil—a departed loved one living in another world. But someday ITC contacts will be mainstream… and I suspect I’ll be right there… long departed from this Earth… sending people here my impressions of life… in the broadest sense of the word.
To my conscious mind, that prospect sounds neither realistic nor appealing… actually, it sounds kind of preposterous, knowing what I know of Earth life and human nature. Consciously I have no desire to stay involved with Earth.
But I suspect my higher self will have some ideas of its own, once I die. I’ll let you know.
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