December 08, 2013

DECEMBER 08, 2013   SUNDAY MORNING

    Good morning, my sweet wonderful Chris!  We were together in our dream.  I simply had to get up and write this down to not take a chance of forgetting it.

    You and I were packing the remainder of our things to move away from this earth.  We were putting the last of our clothes into two boxes.  You were greatly concerned, alarmed, about a colony of ants living on a small flat trailer.  The ants were safely away by a few feet from our boxes, though between the boxes.

    I was telling you not to worry until I got a good look at the ants.  I did and I too became alarmed.  They were huge and mean looking creatures with large bulbous, red hot rear segments.  They lived in and were crawling all over a hive, like a beehive the size of a pumpkin, which hung attached to the tongue of the small rusty trailer frame.  They were crawling over each other like excited, angry bees.  These angry looking ants were larger than any ants I have ever seen and very animated crawling over each other.

    So I realized how serious you had been about the danger of the insects and we became more careful.

    One of the major aspects of this dream is that it was the first thing I thought of upon awaking, and also that the dream had been of you and you had been so vivid.  That along with the powerful immediacy of the ants drove the dream through the threshold between sleep and waking.  Also, the experience had more than one meaning but the most important message to me, driven into the waking state, was to impress upon me that you are well and strong and still with me in the larger reality.

    This is so important after my dip in faith yesterday.  Thank you, my precious beloved Christel.  Thank you so much, Honey Bun.  These messages and reminders from you are so important to me.  

    By the way, I heard you call my name gently and wake me up at an earlier time last night, a time before the ant dream.  It was so familiar, the sound of your sweet voice.  You said, “Honey Bun?” so softly yet clearly, as if checking to see if I still wanted to watch the Star Trek episode on TV that I had been planning on.

     "Honey Bun?"  These sweet gentle words, so much your voice and your loving attentive care of me.  These moments boost my faith that our life and love together is eternal.

    I don't know how much my long and tedious efforts at meditations yesterday had to do with my sensitivity to your communications during the night.  I thought I had made poor progress during the day.  I felt like a fly stuck in amber, immobile, almost completely unproductive though not completely so because even a dead end state like that is productive in the sense that one is in the process of slowly getting beyond a dry spell.

    Nevertheless, I felt I had plowed myself into a rut, because I could not reach a state of bliss or any decent level of Shabd light and sound, no matter how long and hard I tried.  It had depressed me until I clearly heard your voice inquire sweetly, "Honey Bun?" with the unspoken but clearly implied “Are you awake?  Star Trek is coming on TV."  And attached to that another clearly intended message saying, with the same two special words, “Honey Bun”, that "we are still together.  Don't lose faith.  We are a team for eternity."

    These moments, Chris, are priceless.  I love you!

December 07, 2013

DECEMBER 07, 2013   SATURDAY MORNING

    Good morning, my Love.  I love you as you know more than anything.  Don't let yesterday's brevity of my letter worry you.  After all, the sweetness of the dream it tried to describe compensated for the lack of word volume, don't you think?  It had a very unique flavor, this letter, a special spiritual quality that no others had yet conveyed.  This was a new thing, a new  advancement into the spiritual realms.

    Whatever this special quality was it can be experienced only on levels above words but not through words.  It seemed even higher that poetry, perhaps it was a spiritual poetry of the higher dimensions.  I know you agree.  

    But only a special type of sensitivity can perceive this.  I don't think many materialistically oriented people can perceive it.  And maybe only you and I could see it since, for instance, the violin has special meaning for us as a unique couple.  It appeared in many parts of our lives, especially in our most recent twilight years.  

    And the huge bed, after the spacial limitations we endured during our physical life, also has special meaning for us.  Still, I think there is a pure spiritual metaphor emanating from the dream that many souls will experience and be moved by in a sweet way in a special kind of joy.

    I love you.

    I see that this physical world is but a dream itself, but a coarse and heavy dream.  It is made of just a few familiar thoughts that each one of us constructs for ourselves over a lifetime of environmental influences.  

    Every human being has a different mindset.  Most people's mindsets have strong resemblances to the majority mindset, the overarching mindset of society which evolves over generations and, in modern times, is buzzing and confused and clanging frenetically from promotional tricks and advertisements and noise of every kind that modern special interests and businesses inflict on the unwary consciousnesses of the world's populations.

    There is no wonder that materialism and atheism flow like rivers swelling and overflowing their banks today, from the constant deluge of lies and greed and mind control assaults in every corner of the world.  But still, even though the thoughts and broken perceptions of this physical world mindset seems ubiquitous and even infinite, this is not really the case.

    This consuming physical dream is a nightmare of materialism and confusion but the actual quantity of thoughts making up the physical illusion are few in comparison to the truly infinite thought experiences of the higher spiritual realms.  These seeming ubiquitous lower physical thoughts seem magnified and multiplied much beyond what they actually are because of the incessant noise of the constant assault on the population's senses.  

    An analogy to this might be the incredible disruption and calamity that a small group of unruly children can make when running wild inside any enclosed environment.  Two or three excited kids can sound like an invading army when not controlled by a responsible adult.

    This is the physical world today for most people.  And it is made out of unwary thoughts and poor attention.  Spiritual seekers need to seek quieter places in consciousness.  This doesn't mean it is necessary to completely hide from the busy clamoring world around them, but retreats into peace and quiet on a regular basis are necessary.  

    Who was it who said "Live in the world but not of it"?  I believe this is a very thought worthy suggestion.

    But my original intent in bringing this up this morning, Honey Bun, was simply to point out or perhaps preface my own observation that the thoughts making up the higher astral realms are much more numerous and swiftly changing and metamorphosing than the relatively tiny few frozen or glacially changing thoughts that make up the habitual illusion, that is the heavy dream, which we call the physical world.

    Now, this becomes a preface for my words to you, my Darling Chris, in my desire to describe to you the growing difficulty I am encountering these days while expressing my letters in words to you.  It's becoming more and more difficult in direct proportion to the spiritual elevations I am advancing into and beginning to explore.

    I am incredibly grateful for the extraordinary revelations that are emerging in my quest to reunite with you.  But as I discover these new modes of being and these new dimensions of consciously experiencing eternal life, I am soaring further and further away from earthbound language because that old language is inadequate to express these finer details of the spiritual realms.  Poetry and metaphor are serving me well but they take longer to construct in written and spoken physically based languages.  I find myself not only living the role of explorer and transcriber but translator as well.

    It just takes more time and research to write in these new and unfamiliar ways.

    Please, my Love, never think that this is a complaint.  It most certainly is not.  In truth, it is a great joy to me to be on this wonderful journey into the higher realms returning to you.  I am simply trying to explain why I might sometimes seem slower at getting these cherished letters finished and out to you.  But I expect that is not a problem for either one of us to worry about.  The biggest worry I can see is that I need to learn to be a little more patient while involved in the spiritual life and the literary and other expressions of it.  I think as in virtually every other venue, practice will make perfect.  If not perfect, it’ll at least make it a whole lot easier.

    I will see you soon.  Tonight in the astral?  I love you!

December 06, 2013

DECEMBER 06, 2013   FRIDAY MORNING

    Hi, Honey Bun.  I love you.

    I am experiencing some issues with the computers this morning so things may be a little different and error prone.  I think the problem is with Google’s own computers, though.  I always type these letters and virtually all other documents online in this Google Drive account of mine.  So if they have problems with their computers, their subscribers will probably feel some of the results.

    Anyway.  I do love you so much.  Nobody can imagine this love but you and me.  They have their own feelings and loves and experiences that we cannot imagine of theirs.

    I had a dream early last night and woke up to write it out because it was so clearly about you and me.  I remember, as usual, only a portion of a greater whole, that is only a segment of the whole dream.  But it was nice.  Here is what I wrote:

    I dreamed we were happy and together.  No illness of any kind, bodily or mentally, was a part of our pure world.  You were snoozing in our large king sized bed.  I think I was with Momma in another room.  Then I went to the bedroom carrying my violin.  You were asleep and lying comfortably in your sleeping gown (as an aside note, this gown belonged to you where you are now, it never existed in the physical domain).  As people sometimes do in restful sleep, you had pushed the covers aside, a little bit, but they still covered your lower half.  You were beautiful as usual.  

    I lay down a moment beside you still dressed in my day clothes.  I was planning to surprise you with sweet violin music.  You woke up and asked me to take off my uncomfortable daytime clothes, concerned about the tiniest of comforts and joys for me, as usual, the same cares and love you have blessed me with all our conscious life together.

    We were both young and healthy and happy in this dream.  I believe this is because we were in our eternal soul bodies, far removed from physical illusions.  My radar must have alerted me to this important fact because I am always sensitive to any proofs of our eternal happiness.

    I woke up and hand wrote the details of this pleasant heavenly astral experience on my pad to remember and transcribe into the online document this morning.  Then I went back to sleep.

    I love you, Honey Bun.

December 05, 2013

DECEMBER 05, 2013  THURSDAY

    Hi, Sweetheart.  I love you.  This morning I had an interesting meditation.  It was full of larger than human contexts.  Many revelations of various forms.  It was like suddenly the entire science of ecology being opened up to the tiny mind of an ant.  It was too much for my tiny mind to communicate, even to myself.

    The question is: how does one squeeze an ocean sized amount of knowledge and insight through a tiny straw for other people's consumption?  

    Imagine the ant, having learned a library full of amazing facts about the world, about our ecology, the relations to their environment and all the other organisms sharing the same world, even human beings, how does the ant communicate this vast knowledge to his compatriots?

    He doesn't.  He can't.  He can point in a direction and say, "There's something interesting over that way."  But if his compatriots are not curious, they'll never look.  Nor will they listen even if it were possible to cram such vast knowledge down through a straw made of mere words.

    I love you, Chris.  So infinitely much and for eternity.  Such vastness is for me and you, and the ant, to know.  If we are to communicate reality that is beyond time and space, and life and death, that is Life Eternal, the best I know how to do this is through the example of Being.  Just being what we are.  If any soul is interested enough to see something in us that interests him or her, well... that in itself is better communication than words are capable of.  If he or she wants us to elaborate then he or she must be willing and courageous enough to work at the communication in a respectful and mature manner.

    Debate for debate's sake or for competition to win some childish mind game will not be tolerated.  Maybe a constructive dialectic type of conversation will work but the inquirer must have the stamina to go the distance, even if that distance is caused by my own ignorance and misunderstandings.  The onus is not on me.  I am not in this world to seek out lost souls and save them from their own illusions.  That is their job if they want enlightenment.  The onus is in their camp.  Not mine.  Therefore they must persist through whatever difficulties they find in my understanding of their sincerity and make me understand they really want my input to their personal problems.

    But that is a tall order in this world as I see it today.  Perhaps I am being blinded by my own less than perfect mindset and there are sincere attempts to respectfully receive an account of what I know.  But I do not see such sincerity around me.  I see mental and spiritual laziness and self interest in the people around me to the detriment of other innocent people around them.  

    So the loudest statement I can make to any of them is to ignore them completely.  That at least makes them wonder why I am ignoring them, and then that wonder in itself makes them look, if only for the briefest of moments, at themselves and question what it might be about themselves that has made me give them the silent treatment.

    You see what I mean, Honey Bun?

    I did not intend to embark upon this subject this morning.  It just came out.  And I know why it came out.  I have been bothered again and again and again, repeatedly over the years, with a desire to construct effective internal imaginary dialogues with the scores of people who have misjudged me and misinterpreted my character and mannerisms, in negative and unflattering ways, over the years of my human life.  But especially in these my senior years when my personality and character have received their final touches, their final brush strokes, and I am now what I am.  I am the finished me.

    As I say, I have been repeatedly bothered and sidetracked from my important spiritual work by the supposed need and hope of success in my introducing the good me, the decent and caring me, to my neverending stream of detractors who, no matter what I do or say to them, seem intent forever on judging me a bad and undesirable character worthy only of being the subject of their destructive gossip.

    So now I am tired of trying, tired of the effort to communicate with my enemies and detractors, who are legion.  And this is my sign off to them, my last word to them, I hope.  Because I don't like the waste of my attention and energy on useless tasks and pointless endeavors.  There are so many more places to go in this universe.

    And at the very center of all the world, of all reality, is bliss and goodness, is you waiting for me, Honey Bun.  You wait for me to come to you.  Therefore I choose you over all else, for that is in essence choosing Good over evil, God over the devil, and I leave the rest behind to take care of itself.

    I love you eternally and will be home to you soon.

December 04, 2013

DECEMBER 04, 2013  WEDNESDAY

    Good morning, my wife.  I love you.  I had a good night's sleep,  surprisingly, and a very good hour of meditation this morning in which the first half was a rich and soothing immersion in the Shabd Sound Current.  The rest of the meditation was a scattering of mental chatter, some good insight, and only a little bit of mucus and sneezing issues.

LATER:

    Now it is hours later.  Breakfast is eaten.  I’ve had a bowel movement.  And I found myself involved in a scattering of tedious duties to get out of the way.  I wanted to meditate more but knew I should attend to these things.  I especially did not want to leave my letter to you as just the brief opening paragraph above.

    Ah…!  Now that I resumed this letter and can think in context with what is really important, our eternal togetherness, the Shabd has increased its soothing volume.  It occurred to me during meditation earlier this morning that the Shabd sound current might be what gave birth to the original idea of sounding the long, drawn out  “AUMmmm…” and “OMmmm” in some Hindu meditation chants.

    I just did a quick Google search on the word “OMmm” and found some confirmation of the connection at http://www.omsakthi.org/worship/mantra.html which is a page at a website called “Om Sakthi Spiritual Movement”.  The pages of the website that I visited have not been updated in over three years but they provide a copious amount of pictures of their guru and followers which reveal a deep passion within the spiritual organization.  I personally, Honey Bun, shy away from such group identifications and orthodox type behaviour but I have indulged in such things in my younger days, forty years ago, so I do have a soft spot in my heart for such group activities.  After encountering Jiddu Krishnamurti’s dialogues, I became much more independent of group involvements, much to the guile of many misunderstanding people.

    Nevertheless, Chris, this website has at least a few beneficial morsels of information about ancient Hindu wisdom and Shabd sound current (though I haven’t yet seen them use the word Shabd) that I think it is well worth my further perusal for a while.

    I love you so much, Honey Bun, that even the small amount of attention this research takes away from my focus on you is painful to me.  I do not want you to ever get the idea that anything in my experience can take precedence over my love and all encompassing mission to return to you.  I’m sure you realize that all this research is simply necessary work in building our Bridge To Eternity, our road back to each other.

    You are my heart.  And you are every beat of my heart.  You are my mind and soul, the very essence of my existence.  You are my Love.  Our soul is Love.  Love!  It’s just that simple.

ADDENDUM:

    I went to Walmart at Tanger Mall.  On the way there and while there and coming home carrying groceries, I felt large.  I felt close to you as if we had both risen above the tiny concerns of the human physical world.  

    I think my efforts to find the source of our consciousness of things, things around us that our attention fixes upon; that is, my meditative work to discover the pure primal consciousness inside us that looks at and observes all the objects of consciousness that it gives its attention to; I think this careful meditative involvement has suddenly boosted my everyday conscious awareness orders of magnitude higher and wider than it has ever been before.  

    I felt very close to you as if you and I were indeed, to use the metaphor again, simply in another room together now from where we used to be together before you transcended this temporal domain.  But at the same time much different.  Huge.  I felt as if we had expanded into a world with an added spacial dimension.  A very good analogy would be: you and I had once lived as a loving couple in a universe composed of only two dimensions, fairly adequately visualized as a world of living paper cutouts of people, trees, buildings and everything else.  A two dimensional world.

    Then you transcended this two dimensional world and I stayed behind, continuing to be a two dimensional being.  I cried and grieved because I could no longer see you and could not fathom where you had gone, an unknown and unseen seen place all two dimensional people call death.

    Then after the intense and careful meditation I have been doing in consciousness and what is to be discovered in its depths, I suddenly expanded outward from my familiar and extremely limited two dimensions into three.  I found myself in an enormously richer, more detailed, and wider world of three dimensions!  And there you were!  I had not been able to see you before because you were standing to one side in the newer and more greater third dimension, a side that I could not see into while my vision was still flattened in only the two dimensions.

    And then we resumed the same type of lifestyle we had always lived as the loving couple we have always been.  And happily continued the work of life and joys and natural activities our lives together had always been composed in character.  Only, now, much richer with its added dimensions.

    This, what I just wrote above, is a very comfortable analogy of the experience we had together today when I moved outward and upward from a mere three dimensional reality into our four dimensional reality.  Everybody around me looked like they were less substantial than two dimensional cardboard cutouts of people, but they did not know it.  All their thoughts, holiday excitement and shopping, dreams and ambitions were flimsy two dimensional images on the quickly disintegrating walls of very temporary and dying soap  bubbles, of which earth life is but one bubble out of billions.

    Our four dimensional world was entirely different.  It was rich and substantive and had no more to do with that other smaller world than a human body has to do with the unnoticed flaking off of old skin cells which happens naturally and unnoticed by the larger animal on a daily basis.

    So anyway, Honey Bun, my analogy got away from me but I let it run and frolic freely because it served my wishes to express the tremendous leap I experienced in our conscious life today, yours and mine, and as a result of my daily meditations and reading and writing efforts, of living to reunite with you in eternity, in this limitless infinite universe of possibilities.  

    I love you dearly.  Shabd in this moment is so sweetly loud as to need Niagara Falls as it's metaphor.

    You love me, I know.  We love each other and are forever eternally one with each other.  We are the epitome of the phrase "Two in One."

    I love you.

December 03, 2013

DECEMBER 03, 2013   TUESDAY

    Good morning, Honey Bun.  I love you.  I awoke around 3:00 AM.  I tried meditating for about 30 minutes but the usual syrupy thick mucus kept gobbing up on the back of my sinus cavity, making me want to sniff and snort it to the back of my throat and swallow it, the glob of mucus.  

    Anyway, since my meditation was being interrupted by this nose business and I needed to urinate, I decided to start my day, early as it was.  I put on a pot of coffee, peed, and drank my first cup.

    I don't mean to start these letters of on negative notes.  I don't really feel that bad.  I am only trying to provide relevant background or supporting details for these letters, as I realize the background is part of the experience as well.  I think significantly so in everything we do in life and that includes our spiritual life which, in all of unified reality connects everything to everything else, even a snail's sensory and mental experience to the whole.  Everything if relevant.  So I feel it proper and as thorough as I can get to throw in even these mundane complaints whenever I can for it ultimately improves the message and not confuses or diminishes it.

    Anyway, I was having an intriguing meditation that I hope to resume later.  This was a slight curve away from Shabd sound meditation and into an interesting field of pieces of myself.  Some of these pieces are images, a more thorough study of the "I" inside me, a study done from a clearer, more purely observant mode of consciousness.  There were many elements involved in the human experience of myself: emotional, which means psychological and physical elements working together; memory and its subdivisions and manifestations; and the participation of the  inner observer in all of this; and what components of all of this survive death, what is eternal, and how to step fully into the eternal reality while still incarnated in temporal forms, i.e. how to live in the world but not of it.

    Anyway, Chris, this type of meditation is significantly different from Shabd sound current meditation but I believe it is enhanced and enabled from advanced learning and practice of sound current meditation as well as other forms of meditation, contemplation, observation, and careful thought.  So if I had to give advice to anyone about how to meditate I would say use both types and any other type as well, such as maybe even chanting and mantra yoga, as well as reading carefully the opinions of others about spiritual matters (remembering at all times their own as well as every other person’s own, limitations and fallibilities.  I would also advise them to always rely ultimately on one’s own self to figure it out because one’s own way is unique by virtue of his or her own unique life experience  and life path when all large and small details of that experience are totaled up.  No soul has exactly the same experience as any other soul and no one is exactly like any other soul and so there is plenty of room in an infinite universe for all our unique selves to be valid.

    Anyway, my Love, I didn't intend to wax profound or pompous.  It just seemed to want to come out and I let it flow.

    I love you!

AFTERNOON ADDENDUM:

    I love you, Chris.  I live for our full conscious reunion.  When my energy is low and my awareness is dimmed, my faith is weakened.  This is how I am now, though I am picking up emotionally a little now that I have begun speaking to you through these words (it is a true connection which allows the energy to flow).

    I went for a long walk to the grocery store in Hanahan for the exercise.  I bought another six pack of diet Ginger Ale and carried it home in a double plastic bag.  I walked slowly and stopped to sit and rest several times along the way.  I used our umbrella for a walking stick which was good because I was not very steady on the way back and my lower back was stiff and stabbed me with a little bit of pain now and again.

    During this long walk I struggled to raise my consciousness to a spiritual level.  I succeeded some, but not much, though significantly enough.  I watched myself, my mind and awareness, my thoughts and sensory input, and the comings and goings of my "I", that pain ridden psychological center; I watched all this and more around me like a cat watches a mouse, as Krishnamurti once said of himself in one of his books.

    I tried to discover whether or not it was true that we are pure consciousness completely independent of physical components and, if so, what are the characteristics of this pure consciousness.  Are we more than we are in the physical?  Does this pure consciousness have a mind of its own and is it supremely better than our physically based mind?  These are the things I tried to explore during the walk up to the store and back from the store.

    I think I succeeded to a degree in proving to myself that pure consciousness is independent of physical matter and sensory input.  And furthermore it can be aware of the sensory input and yet above it enough to be free of it.  This is difficult to describe and even to remember.  The "I" didn't exist during this transcendent experience of conscious although my true identity did.  Honey Bun, I feel that I am mangling the message with these words and the difficulty of remembering the sublimity of the experience.  I had the transcendent consciousness experience more than once, maybe three times during the walk, but the duration of each time was long enough to be substantial but still fleeting nonetheless.

    Anyway, I feel that with continued practice at this meditative walking and meditative awareness in whatever I am doing I will learn to enter this transcendent state more easily, more often, and learn to stay in it for longer durations.  I think at this point the excitement of interring the state shocks me back out of it again, which is a common problem with many people as they reach more sublime states of consciousness for the first few times until they become more skilled at getting in and staying in these states.  Just like learning new juggling tricks.

    I love you, my Darling.  Thanks for listening.  I’ll see you soon!

November 05, 2013

NOVEMBER 05, 2013  TUESDAY MORNING

    Good morning, my Guardian Angel Christel!

    The way things here worked out yesterday made me think I was one of the pieces arranged on a table.  The table is a view of time something like one of the sides of a cube.  I and my neighbors, the past, present, and future of time, and other things and events that make up the temporal dramas of the physical world in relation to my current location in it, were being manipulated like pieces on a game board.

MUCH LATER:

    Honey Bun, I have felt sick all day today.  It is already 1:00 PM and I have only written this much so far.  Believe me, my Previous Love, my silence has not been a joy to me, for I missed talking with you.  But it was necessary to maximize the speed of recovery from this cold or flu virus.  I doctored myself with chicken broth, toast, and headache medicine and vitamins, then snuggled under my blanket to help my inefficient body to generate heat.  I watched a couple of nice old TV shows and snoozed a little.  I began to feel a little better after a while.  And I finally felt well enough to begin writing this letter to the one person in all the dimensions of reality that means more to me than my own self, you, my Dear Dear Wife for all eternity and infinity, Christel Bath!

    I still feel weak but happy to have enough strength for the moment to communicate with you.  

    Referring to what I wrote above, comparing time to a table and the things of physical world as game pieces on that table, I had gotten the idea while in that frame of mind to search for books and papers written by Charles Hinton, whom I remembered to be a 19th century author who wrote a book about the mathematics representing the fourth dimension.  I always felt good about that book, read it a couple of times with interest, and now wanted to see how I might relate those concepts to Einstein's four dimensional space-time ideas and, hopefully through it all, add to my abilities to expedite return to a full conscious living embrace with you, that is to bring us back together in full loving consciousness.

    Chris, I am fairly certain you know this already, but I found a great YouTube video titled "Imagining the Fourth Dimension" which I watched several times already today and plan to watch many more times henceforth.  It is an unexpected source of information in a series of videos dealing with multiple dimensions, one after the other, from the first through the second, third, fourth, fifth, etc, all the way to the eleventh dimension.  So far, I have only watched this 9 minute Fourth Dimension video several times because it presents the fourth dimension as a spacial dimension (though perceived from the third dimension as a direction in time).  The fourth dimension is alleged to be actually a spacial dimension extending at a right angle to the third dimension.  This is essentially what the 19th century Charles Hinton Had to say about it.

    Both authors, Hinton and the creator of the YouTube video, go into much supporting detail of the multiple dimensions making up our existence.

    Obviously this is extremely important to you and me and any other lovers who have suffered the temporary separation of the so-called death of one or the other lover.  I know these few quick words I am writing now in summary of this treasure of information and renewed hope, so recently discovered by me, is woefully inadequate to express the real worth of the find but it will have to suffice for now.  As I digest it and build cognitively upon it over days to come I will attempt more eloquence and understanding in talking about it.  Moreover, I will explore the related websites and other materials associated with it and will also think and meditate with deliberation upon what I am learning, all for our Bridge to Eternity, Chris.

    I love you so much.  And I feel certain you have helped lead me to this awareness.  Thanks, Sweety Pie!

November 04, 2013

.

NOVEMBER 04, 2013  MONDAY MORNING

    Good morning, Christel my beloved wife.  I know you were with me giving me valuable moral support in the astral realms last night.  But again fine details are lost because the whole night was troubled in the physical realm making me sleep in fits and starts.  

    The neighbors seem to be piling on the pressure again to frustrate me into moving away.  All day long yesterday, from early morning to after dark the people in apt 104, R-m-d and his young girlfriend, made much continuous and annoying noise.  R-m-d sounded like an old man teasing a small dog to get it into a state of excitement, saying something like what you would hear when other old men work their poodles into states of prancing excitement when they say things like, “Who’s your daddy?  Who’s your daddy?  Am I your Daddy?  What you doing wagging your tail?  You happy to see Daddy?  You have a kiss for Daddy?  Where is it?  Where is Daddy’s kiss?”

    This went on and on for hours.  I supposed the guy was fondling either the poodle I sometimes see walked about by the woman next door to him, in apt 105, or he was cooing the little boy whom I sometimes see accompany his grandfather from across the lawn, when he walks over and visits R-m-d.  Recently when the child and his grandfather walked away from R-m-d to return to their own apartment after a visit, R-m-d yelled after the child, to get his attention, and tossed him a ball, then he turned back toward his own apartment. What I saw in his face was disturbing.

    I was struck by R-m-d’s face at that moment when he turned away from the boy.  I saw a flushed and breathless expression on R-m-d's face that looked to me like sexual excitement, tinged with a desire to keep the feelings secret as he walked back to his door.

    Anyway poodle or little boy, R-m-d sounded like he had a plaything all morning long yesterday until he heard me turn on a philosophical lecture at my computer.  Then all sound from his apartment stopped immediately and there was dead silence for half an hour or so over there.  

    But noise started up again, only this time there were lots of bumping and thumping sounds.  Many of them against the wall that separates our apartments.  Many other sounds probably from bouncing on or making up the bed that R-m-d seems to have there.   I don't even want to voice what crossed my mind about the young boy, the older man R-m-d, and the bed.  But whatever was the cause or causes of the incessant thumps and bumps against my wall, they went on and on all day long and into the night, at which time I saw J-n sneak away from that direction under cover of the darkness in a white night robe.  Don't ask.  I don't know what that vicious old woman had to do with all of those noises and it is the first I had seen of her in nearly a week.

    So, to cut this nasty story short, I decided that my quiet tolerance of late, in regards to these troublesome neighbors and their insensitive characters and obnoxious behaviors, had not had the peaceful results I had hoped for from them.  I had turned the other cheek to them only to be harassed by their hatefulness one more time.   Instead of a kind of peaceful truce, my sensitive patience seemed to have been construed by that mean little group of drunken neighbors to be a sign of my weakness and surrender against their dominance and victory.

    They were intensifying their pressure against me now, again, or seemed to be doing so.  And the sight of seeing J-n resuming and increasing her scurrying back and forth between her apt 102 and R-m-d’s apt 104 is very suggestive of a renewed effort to coordinate their efforts to harass me into leaving my apt, perhaps for R-m-d’s girlfriend or one of his other friends to take upon my vacancy. 

Incidentally, I found a dead rat lying on the walkway in front of my porch steps, when J-n had been absent for several days.  This is so unusual (I don’t remember it happening before) that the possibility of one of those hateful alcoholic neighbors tossing it over to me immediately crossed my mind.  A cat might have left it there, but why?  

    So since peace is not working for now, war is back on.

    I love you, Honey Bun.  And I strongly felt your support and saw your presence beside me during those fitful sleep spells I had during the night.

    See you soon!  I adore you and love you as always!

LATER IN MORNING:

    I canceled my Vonage phone account, Honey Bun.  I never used it since you transcended to the higher realms ahead of me.  By canceling the phone, I have ripped up one more root holding me down to this physical world.  In other words, shortly after 9:30 AM, today, I switched off another light on my way out of the temporal world.  Now I am that much closer back to you in the eternal world.

I also save 15 dollars a month by getting rid of that needless expense.  And I free up my movements and mind by that much less to worry about while still in the physical.

    I love you so much.  Tell Momma hello for me, if you can.  See you soon.

November 03, 2013

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NOVEMBER 03, 2013  SUNDAY MORNING

    Hi, Honey Bun.  I dreamed you and I were with each other most of the night.  And there were usually lots of people around but not always.  Some of the dreams were rather feverish, seeming to be more delirium than real astral experiences.  I can think of a reason for this.

    I believe a flu virus has invaded my body.  Yesterday afternoon after I made it home from my walk to Price Wise grocery store on Yeaman's Hall Road carrying one bag containing a six-pack of ginger ale, I was so exhausted I could not will myself to raise a hand much less get out of my chair for several hours.  I wanted to write to you, and to read, and even go to the bathroom but simply could not find the will to move.  I believe that if a real emergency popped up I could have sprang into action but in absence of that, I simply could not move anymore than a sack of potatoes could.  My mind and spirit seemed equally inert.

    Also, for the past few days I have once again been a mucus factory.  On the long walk home yesterday, I realized the constant nasal drainage, sniffing, and swallowing was severely sapping my energy.  Just the constancy of the sniffing and the accompanying disruption of normal breathing throughout the walk and all day and night long is ruinous to one's energy reserves, especially a tired old widower like myself.  Added to this are the piling up of sleepless nights and, now, restless dreams.

    So, anyway, I'm up early again this morning, my Love, not feeling all that peppy.  But at least I did get a spell of perhaps a couple of unbroken restful hours of sleep last night after I made myself a cup of coffee.  I had a nice dream with you in it at that point and Shabd came alive for me, in its rich penetrating sound of millions of tiny silver bells all jingling together.

    I love you, dearly!

LATER IN MEDITATION:

    An important aspect of listening to and immersing oneself in the Shabd sound current is that it is a here and now experience.  The sound and listening to it carefully, permeating it's nuances and letting them permeate you at the same instant, and staying within the instant enjoying the light and soothing sublime vibration, letting this instantaneous moment continue open ended within the here and now without limits and free of all concepts of time, far above and beyond and out of conscious range of the illusion of time, this is reality, part of the heavenly realms.  This Shabd sound current is like a true river of silvery light, not an illusion of time, but a great river of sound and light existing as passage into an enormous, measureless eternity where our true souls reside, my Love, my eternal wife.  This Home of the Soul is all that matters to us.  All else is minor itches along the way Here.

    I love you, Christel.  You're beautiful!

November 02, 2013

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NOVEMBER 02, 2013  SATURDAY MORNING

    Good morning, my Love.  I've had a spotted sleep.  We were together and well in the dream world but details are unavailable except for one vague memory of me feeling I had to turn down an enticing job offer from one of our friends (in the dream world) because I believed you and I needed automobile transportation to go and come from it and we did not, I thought, possess it.  This thought was a part of my limiting mindset carried over from the physical to the spiritual realm.  I am sorry if my blindness caused you any unhappiness, Chris.

    I love you with fathomless intensity.

    To accept the world as it is, is to die to the needless conflicts with life.  To surrender these conflicts with the world is to stop feeding them the energy that keeps them alive.  What is left after this useless fight is given up is the peace of living with the things that are real and of the spiritual realm.  That is, to die to the physical world is to live in the spiritual world.  Surrender to life.  This is why I meditate.  To be with you in real life beyond the limiting illusion of the imagined physical world.

    I hope I adequately translated my true insight from the beginning of my meditation this morning into these words.

    See you soon, Chris.

SOME THOUGHTS:

    Just acknowledging the existence of the force of magnetism, electric fields, gravity, light (which is electromagnetic radiation) and other invisible forces which continue on after the death and decay of bodies they may for a while reside in, just this acknowledgement alone is enough to add support to the belief in an afterlife of the soul unattached to the used up physical body.

    Are we qualia free of physical bodies?

    Does everything still exist somewhere in time, time being a real dimension but the flow of it being illusion?