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

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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?

November 01, 2013

NOVEMBER 01, 2013  FRIDAY MORNING

EARLY MORNING AFTER BROKEN SLEEP AND DREAMS:

    I wrote a few key words down to remember in morning letter.  Man spits up milk, does careless job cleaning it up off table and floor.  I point it out.  He sprays milk from his mouth all over my back when I go to get him a rag.  I demand he leave our apartment.  We have a large apartment filled with well-to-do guests.  The man refuses to leave.  I raise my voice in order to force him to heed my words that this is my apartment, not his, and what I say goes!  As he goes you, Chris, wave a diplomatic farewell to him.  You were trying to be diplomatic.  I mistook it as betrayal.  And demanded you go to bed.  

    Sudden regret that I had hurt your feelings with my harsh words and dictatorial attitude woke me up.

    I lay awake in bed and thought about the guilt I felt for hurting you with my misdirected angry words.  Eventually I came to the conclusion that that sort of thing is just the natural consequence of power and intensity of a personality like mine, who has to fight the poorly developed moral values of a world of people and institutions in order to protect you, the person I love so fiercely, from their ever-present threat of harm to you through greed, ignorance, hatred, and a whole host of other self-serving motivations.

    After all, you know I never actually hurt you physically.  And I counterbalanced the emotional hurt I caused you by trying and often succeeding in explaining the depths and intensity of my love for you.  It took the power of explosives, so to speak, to fight off the many threats to you so I was that power.  Or channeled such power, anyway.  You needed that kind of help even if I often made mistakes that hurt your feelings.  

    I thank you for the dream and for helping me understand this part of it, this major part of our history together, Honey Bun.  I feel much guilt leaving my soul.  I love you so much.

    I love you, Honey Bun.  By the same token I want you to throw all your guilt away, my Precious Love, if you entertain any.  Please don't feel bad about anything.  I don't think you do but, you know... just in case.  And tell Momma the same goes for her.  None of us need feel guilt for anything left over from this so-called physical life.  At least, as far as I can see.

    I love you both.  See you soon!