Supra Spatial Communications

MAY 31, 2014   SATURDAY MORNING

    Good morning, Honey Bun.  I love you.  Good day yesterday, huh?

    Things come and go through my head.  Things that would make good subjects to write about.  But when I get a chance for a writing session, the ideas are nowhere in sight.  But since they are recurring I have recurring opportunities.  Let's see if I can dig up one now.

    Okay.  Here's one.  It has been said by many people that grieving over the death of a loved one lasts for a year or two and then the survivor adjusts to the loss by finding closure to it.  Well, I think this viewpoint is only a platitude, a misleading cliché, and just plain wrong.

    Closure is an impossibility.  It is a term that suggests an absolute state of being, that of a story or episode in ones life being closed, finished, and gone forever never to exist again.  But that’s just wrong.  There are no absolute states of anybody or anything in our world.  Our souls alone have absolute existence.

    What has lessened my grief over the loss of you (the loss, that is, from my physical perceptions) is that the idea of closure is at best simply one more empty platitude people use to blunt the sharpest edges of emotional agony, to blind themselves to the horror of their misunderstood conceptions of the reality of the situation.  They have an unnecessary nightmarish conception of the passing away of their beloved friend or family member.  

    I know better.  Now.  After having faced my nightmare head on and alone, refusing to be dulled by platitudes about what life and death is.  Nothing passes away from this world.  There is no time dimension in which it can pass through to another place in time.  There is also no place in space where anything, including a cherished loved one, can pass away to because space itself is also an illusion.  This is one of the most difficult things to grasp.  For me, it has alluded my understanding longer than the cognizance of the unreality of time.  But it is every bit as true as that.  

    Time and space being illusions means there was nowhere for you to go, my Sweet Wife.  All that transpired was a change in form that my physical senses could not follow.  But that is no reason to presume that we souls do not possess a full range of higher, more subtle, and more dependable spiritual senses which we can use to communicate across the borders of so-called life and death.  Since we are souls while tethered to a material body and still souls when free of that material body, we can use our spiritual soul senses even while still in our physical bodies.  Our physical bodies are made to use their own sensory apparatus for managing physical experience in the material world.  At the same time, our souls who drive this physical machinery, have sensory apparatus of their own.  Our souls, therefore, are well placed to use both modes of communication.  When we park or discard our physical bodies, we still have all our soul capabilities and these higher senses are increased in power because they are no longer weighed down by so many heavy physical concerns.  

    I am talking about a kind of inter dimensional soul travel or soul based communication.  A real and dependable connection with loved ones after the illusion of death temporarily disrupts our habitual mindsets and approaches to communication with one another.

    You and I are improving our connection.  It will be better than it has ever been once I am done with my physical duties and necessary attachment to my material body.  Even so, we are improving our connection, especially through the Shabd Sound Current and Astral experiences during the night.

    I love you, Honey Bun.  

ADDENDUM:

    Listening to the Shabd sound current is a present moment event.  Remembering your face and caresses and the many other episodes of our life together is an other time event, outside of the present moment and therefore outside of reality.  To concentrate my attention on those memories is to venture off into illusion.  Pain is in that illusion, the pain of loss.

    Reality is in the present moment.  The present moment is composed of real things in the act of existing, of being real.  This realness is beyond time.  Time is the illusion composed of memories.

    The present moment always is.  It is composed of things being in existence now.  It is always this way.  Not being a thing of time, the now is outside of time.  It is the reality outside of the illusion.  It is timeless.  It is eternal.

    Shabd, the Cosmic sound current, is heard only in the Now.  It exists only in the now.  It is a thing of Eternity, this now and the Shabd sound inside it.  Therefore the Shabd sound is a Bridge to Eternity.  To keep our attention on Shabd is to keep our attention on Eternity.  It is the only real world.  The past and things of time are dreams to let go of.

    Eternity is now.

    The things that were real in the now are still real in the now.  They are not real in the past.  The past is a shadow of the real.  All real things are existing now, in the present with us to touch with the senses that are available to us in this moment, in eternity.  The sense of hearing listens to the Shabd in this moment and therefore it exists and listens in Eternity.  While we listen and meditate upon the Shabd sound current we reside in Eternity.  We float upon the cosmic river of light and sound.

    All our loved ones are in Eternity.  We have but to practice listening and seeing by doing this eternal act to improve our awareness of these loved ones who are with us now in this never ending world of Eternity.  We see all our blessed loved ones more clearly as we clear the dust of time from our spiritual vision as we meditate upon the river of sound and light.  The details emerge as we improve this divine skill.

    Hi, Honey Bun.  I love you!

Inter-dimensional Communications, Talking on the Bridge to Higher Dimensions

MAY 30, 2014   FRIDAY MORNING

    I love you, Chris.  Good morning.

    I must be an anachronism.  I suppose most old people are.  Our mindset is of another time, a previous age, not well fitted for this current age.

    Or is it that I am more fitted for this current age than the majority of my senior aged peer group?  I am a digital entity from before the present generation or even their parents were born.  I was communicating via computer messaging before web browser's were invented, back in the old digital pioneering days of the 1980's when Compuserve was the world of online activity.

    Actually I belong to no group of people.  I am anachronistic to all humans of today.  When you went on to the next stage ahead of me, Honey Bun, the last of my friends vanished from this material world.  I am too much of an individual to be understood by anybody.  And people hate what they can't define.  To most people, defining things is a way to control them, to put them in their place.  If they can't mentally put a thing or person in its place, that is to place a person in a category or type of persons they are familiar with and already know something about, the unfamiliarity of the person worries and frightens them.  They fear all individuals because they fear what they can't understand because they don't know how to relate to what they don't understand.

    I am an individual, Honey Bun.  Therefore I am unique in my thoughts and demeanor.  And I am feared because it is naturally impossible to pigeonhole unique things into existing categories and most people fear the consequences of this.

    I love you, Chris.  You were the only person in all the world who actually understood I was an individual because you yourself were an individual too.  

ADDENDUM:

    I felt you so deeply talking to me through the Shabd vibration early this morning, urging me to get away from my writing and researching rut by going for a long walk somewhere, anywhere.  You said we would both go for a long stroll together.  

   It was a peculiar sensation to comprehend or apperceive a verbal-like communication from you (and very personal at that) through the equilibrium of the Cosmic Sound Current.  This sound current is smoother in texture and more homogeneous than the sound of the trillions of tiny popping bubbles at the end of an ocean wave's stretch to its furthest reach into the sand dunes.  This sound of steady hiss or hizzzzzzzz of the totality of the tiny bubbles all popping at once is the sound I'm talking about, before the spent wave is sucked back down into mother ocean's deep waters.

    This sweet soothing sound of Shabd, the infinite Cosmic vibration (which some people suspect is the echo of the Big Bang) is rich in a kind of monotonous tone, on the surface of spiritual awareness, but observing more deeply with our higher senses it is utterly rich and deeply penetrating as a listener becomes more consciously involved with it through deep meditation and attention.

    With all the good aspects of this great Cosmic river of light and sound which has been meditated upon and written about for thousands of years primarily by eastern Hindu mystics, with all this and all I have been experiencing with it and deriving divine benefits from, I never imagined that this infinity and eternity penetrating primal vibration could carry detailed verbal-like communications from one consciousness to another.

    But that is what I observed today.  All day long I walked to Walmart on Rivers Avenue and back home with two lightweight grocery bags, hearing Shabd clearly the whole way and carrying on conversations with you through it.  I know anyone who reads this later will think me mentally unbalanced but I don't care.  

    The Shabd vibration did not really change pitch or texture the way spoken words do.  But it did elevate in volume and richness when the conversations or intimate understanding between us flowed and connected best and transmitted loving almost casual talk.  

   It struck me that we probably were inflecting our words with accents and timing rhythms as normal earthbound talk does but this talk was above the physical plane and so much in the spiritual or otherwise higher vibratory dimensions that my materialistic expectations missed the finer subtle nuances of the spiritual talk but the understanding we wished to convey to each other succeeded via the Shabd sound current, as if Shabd were a radio carrier wave, even though it sounded to my earthbound socially programmed expectations like only the soothing homogeneous hum of the great Cosmic river of light and sound.  Or Logos if you prefer.  Or the Word of God.

    Actually when one considers that the mystics teach that God uses the Shabd sound current or Logos (if you prefer) to create everything thing that ever existed and will exist then it is no stretch of reason and imagination to assume the sound current can create and uphold our personal conversations, whether intercontinentally or interdimensionally.

    That's right, Honey Bun.  I hear you in Shabd right now as I write this and I agree with you.  We have a really powerful connection now.  I will add this observation, that traffic is flowing nicely across our Bridge to Eternity!

    I love you dearly.  What shall I feed my animal body tonight?  Soup?  It doesn't want much because I satisfied my powerful appetite by gormandizing crackers and hummus and spinach and garlic dip when we got home from our long walk.

    See you soon, My Love!

The "I" is Pain not God

MAY 28, 2014   WEDNESDAY MORNING

    Good morning, Christel, my primal, dearest Love.  I remember us being together in the astral last night.  We were trying to escape a compound unnoticed by the authorities.  We were barred from one escape route, a tunnel, by thousands of wharf rats sleeping in potholes of the walls above, below us, and on the sides of the 3 foot diameter tunnel we would have to crawl through.  There would be no place to put our hands other than on the backs of the rats.

    Another escape route was barred by a brick wall with barbed wire at the top.  A third and fourth escape route presented the danger of our being discovered by sight during our flight.

    That's all I remember of that segment.  But the night long was filled with dreams, the details of which I don't recall.

    I love you, Honey Bun.

    I am looking for a direct quote of Jiddu Krishnamurti saying that "the I is pain".  But I have not found it.  My memory of him saying this goes back 30 years or so.

    Anyway, scattered over the night throughout the many patches of wakefulness, my consciousness soared like an eagle above sections of my current physical life arranged in time.  I saw my own "I" unmistakably infused with emotional pain.  I don't remember once, from this eagle’s eye view, seeing my "I" accompanied by pleasure.  At least not in the actual moment of pleasure.

    The “I” does of course often pop up after any real pleasure is experienced and the memory of that pleasure immediately steps in to take ownership of the joy and cage it away to protect it from being lost.  This is a shame because the cage kills the joy.  The presumption of ownership turns out to be the greedy ignorance of misguided thinking.  This kind of misguided thinking is a psychic addiction to misunderstood objects of memory.  

    Such addictive acts of memory throw psychological blankets of disassociation over our consciousness of real things and events available to our sense perception, and then we no longer have direct contact with the real thing, with the real energy emanating from the real thing and infusing us with its energetic joy.  We are now dulled with much weaker energy of our own inward focus on the memory of the event, and this happens with the quickness of thought.

    The sunrise suddenly loses all its splendor.  And we wonder why.

     Our pure attention had been fully immersed beyond all self consciousness into the joyful event of the sunrise.  We had been one with the sunrise, unrestrictedly receiving all its infinite glory and energy.  Then our “I” popped up.  Our greedy little ego noticed the profound pleasure and wanted to possess it.

    Instantly because of this egoistic greed the real sunrise vanished from our consciousness and was replaced by a mental facsimile of the real event, a memory of it.  Among other important points that can be discussed concerning this temporary loss of spiritual sight, is the following point:  The "I" that popped up in this case was associated with the memory of the event -- not the event itself.  The real event was seen by an outward focus of the attention; whereas the destruction of that pure awareness was actualized from and inward focus of the attention, into the separate little ego self.

    It is curious.  This pain I speak of is emotional pain which is mild in some cases, as in embarrassing situations, but reaches agonizing proportions in other cases like grieving over the loss of a loved one.  

    There is a difference in the two experiences.  The experience of grief has nothing to do with embarrassment.  The pain of embarrassment is a much milder pain brought on by injury to one's personal self image, which is obviously a self centered ego oriented pain.  

    But the experience of grief is centered outwardly onto the beloved person or thing one has lost.

    Still, my description falls short of complete accuracy but my point is more made than not by my effort here to express it.

    This "I" occupies many events of our earthly lives but not all of them.  There are times when we are surprised by a sudden sensory object of great beauty -- a sunset, a baby, a musical harmony, or any of an infinite number of other naturally pleasurable things.  During these times we are outwardly focused on the surprise of the sudden consciousness of that unexpected beauty.  We gasp in awe.  Only that beautiful thing exists in our awareness at that moment -- not the I or the me or any other manifestation of personal consciousness or ego.  The "I" often steps in only after the fact and thinks something like "How fortunate I am to see this wonderful thing!  I must not let it slip away!"

    And there, at that moment in time, The beauty slips away and we have an incarnation of the ego.

Brain Blogger

http://brainblogger.com/

Pennies Trump Gold Coins

MAY 20, 2014   TUESDAY MORNING

    Hi, Honey Bun.  Good morning!  I love you!

    I was so glad to see you in the same house with my grandmother last night.  What an unexpected treat for me!  I probably haven’t dreamed about her in decades.  This tells me that there are good souls, who were part of my extended family in the physical realm, surrounding you with care and love and acceptance now in the astral dimensions.  My own mother's mother is there in that comfortable house with you!  This must be the tip of an iceberg of support for you. You looked very happy, Sweet Heart, which makes me indescribably happy with you.

    So, my love, the following is something I wrote yesterday.  The opening joke is just that, a silly old style joke I made up, which my mind created as a priming device to get a stream of consciousness flow moving and producing something decent to write.  The results of the flow follows the little joke. Here’s the joke:

     Two clams walked into a bar.  One of them said, "Hey barkeep."

     "Yea?  What'll it be?"

     "What's good on the menu?"

     "Clam soup."

     Ei-eeeeeee!

----------------

(Yesterday)

     Hi, Christel.  My wife.  My life.  My love and heavenly dove.  I am showered after returning from a tiresome trip to Walmart.  I walked all the way there, then shopped, and went to the bus stop to go home.  The bus was a half hour late getting to the stop and broke down while it was there.  That’s why it was late; it had been breaking down along the way.  We passengers were told we would have to wait on a mechanic to come and work on the bus.  I imagined it might take another hour or so for the bus to get fixed or replaced with another bus.  So I walked a couple of blocks to another bus stop that was part of another route which could get me close to where the broken one normally takes me when it is working. 

    That idea worked out.

     I got home, snacked while putting groceries away, and took a shower because I suddenly felt itchy and grimy all over.  I feel much better now, after my bath and  in clean clothes, and finally sitting here writing this little update to you, my Love.

     Oh, and I talked to you all day long, feeling your presence and Shabd bliss and sound, the whole day through.  It was rather wonderful.  I love you.

     Imagine your love for me and mine for you, Christel, which is the same love.  In this love we are two polarities, you and I, positive and negative of the one fully charged love that we are on another level not far removed in consciousness.  The male and the female or masculine and feminine are symbols that will also work for same sex couples.  Anyway, such is us.  We love each other dearly.  And we are one as well as two in that unified love.

     Now... here's the thing.  In so much of the mystical literature a person reads, he or she gets the distinct unhappy feeling that the spiritual authorities believe that when we die physically and transcend into the higher dimensions our consciousness spreads out to be so much greater than the smaller awarenesses our little selves knew each other by.  They seem to suggest that we lose all our previous knowledge of each other and enter into a bliss and joy so much greater that we will not care about losing our little earthly love affair.  

    Well I say they can stick all their infinite joy up their infinite butts if it means losing you.  You are the most important thing to my life and soul.  An analogy like what follows is the truest way I can at present describe our new life in the higher dimensions to be.  Here is the analogy:

     Imagine we are two tiny drops of water,you and I, loving and enjoying each other in our little consciousness pond in the vast ocean of the cosmos.  We are coupled into a single somewhat larger field of being, the water around us as well as the pond around the water surrounding us, but still very little, a very minute conscious awareness compared to the infinite ocean of consciousness we allegedly merge into after the so-called death of our little physical bodies. 

    Now, we are told by the teachers that, after death, we suddenly expand in consciousness to infinite proportions into a state of conscious awareness greater even than an ocean is to single a drop of tap water.  And, here's the rub: we dissolve into this ocean of consciousness.  And cannot get back to each other.  What is worse, we don't care to get back to each other because, as the story goes, the super conscious state is so much grander and more joyful and fulfilling that, as the spiritual authorities imply, we won't want to return to our lower states.

     Sucks, right?  When you last saw your most beloved object of love, your soul mate back there in that lost little drop off water, now dissolved into nothingness by the vast uncaring ocean; this is not something I value as good or pleasant.  I see terrible, unthinkable heartbreak in such a scenario.  The Cosmic consciousness devoured, ate, digested your precious loving spouse or child or parent or best friend or whomever!

     What kind of reward is that!

     I say screw those so-called spiritual authorities if they suggest such a terrible thing.  Here is what I say:

     You and me and our love, Honey Bun, and all such real and true lovers as we; let a penny represent us, be a symbol of our love bond and love consciousness, its individuality.  Let us be that penny.  And let a million, billion shiny gold coins surround us on all sides.  They represent the Cosmic consciousness that we, allegedly, dissolve into when we physically die and our souls transcend into the higher dimensions. 

     Well, the penny representing us is still the penny and no matter how many fat, shiny gold coins surround the penny, not one of them devours the penny.  They don't need to.  The penny (us, you and I) has always been among them and any devouring or dissolving into the greater mass of gold coins or Cosmic consciousness, is illusionary. 

    We survive. 

    The penny we have been remains that beautiful penny forever and we can go back to it any time we wish, even though now that we have transcended we have expanded in consciousness to include the rest of ourselves, the whole of our souls.  We lose no penny part, which is still as dear and real to us as ever it was and remains to be. 

    Just so, the child in any adult does not dissolve into the adult -- it creates the adult.  The child has grown but still remains as the matured child, the adult.  The adult did not eat the child.  The child created the adult out of itself and became the adult.

     And the penny, true love and consciousness, the penny soul mates have grown and created the greater consciousness, became the greater consciousness.  It was never devoured by anything.  Love is indestructible essence, irreducible and fundamental to everything else.  Nothing devours love, not even a greater amount of love.  Love, our little penny of eternal bliss and togetherness, is a qualitative thing every bit as wonderful, pure, and eternal as all the gold coins surrounding it put together. 

     They are all love and all love is one love supporting the infinite aspects and souls of myriad life and conscious beings at all levels of being and expressing that being, that eternal living being.

     So, my point is, that physical death is spiritual birth into increased bliss and love.  We don't lose.  We keep.  And we gain on top of what we keep.  Just as children keep the souls they are living as, even when gaining the extras of adulthood.

     I hope I have expressed this adequately, my Love, my beautiful wife, Chris.  I know you know what I'm talking about.  But if any other souls should read this, I would like them to understand what I am trying to say.

     I love you.  See you soon!