Sunday, May 22, 2016
5:30 a.m., and the horizon is a bright line of silver beneath the blue blanket of cloud cover. Two months past equinox, still a month to solstice. Night is lovely too, but nothing matches early morning.
Just before I arose, I lay thinking – or was I merely receiving? – and thought maybe I could put various [of my] communications with American statesmen into a little book, framed perhaps by my own take on what I asked them about. Not a wide audience for such a book, but I would be interested in preserving the conversations. I’d hate to see them merely forgotten without me to remember them.
As I write that, I get that in our future, people will take such access for granted, and will learn, or will have to learn, discernment. To report such a conversation is to make an assertion that could never be proven; all that could be asked is, “Does it resonate?” If it shed light on a subject, whatever was asserted would have to be demonstrated and even then could not be taken to be “the truth.” But unproven testimony may still have its suggestive value, and may light avenues of exploration.
I guess we’ll see, either here or from the non-3D.
That would be an entertaining and a worthwhile task, more so than “The Stone,” which I’m tempted to abandon. So many projects, so little direction.
One thing that happened during the course in Medical Intuition is that I was reminded of John Cotten – for the first time in quite a while. I take that as entrée, or perhaps as a call for assistance. Something tells me this won’t be as simple as talking to Rita or to, say, Joseph Smallwood, whatever his name actually was. Let’s find out.
F: John Cotten? Are you interested in communicating? Communicating further, I ought to say?
TGU: As you intuited, it won’t be that simple.
F: All right. Who is this?
TGU: One of your useless questions, you know, “who is speaking.” But you may consider me one of the Greek chorus, and leave it at that.
F: An observer, an interested observer, but with no interest in coming front and center.
TGU: One of “the guys upstairs,” leave it at that. Your theory of ignoring the useless questions is good; don’t overturn it in practice.
F: All right. So then –?
TGU: John lived in the 1700s. You and he shared certain emotional traits, which was your entry point. It was his truncated life, and his wife’s, that provided the emotional fuel that burned during your Gateway and propelled you into another world when you discovered his cabin in the direction you were told it would be, days earlier when you were living still asleep.
F: I well remember.
TGU: It was his interaction with the older German sergeant [among the Convention troops captured at Saratoga being held in Charlottesville] that showed you the way to overcome life’s disappointments and heartbreaks. And perhaps it is not too much to say that he was your first conscious friend from the ex-3D world. He, and David, and Joseph and others (but mostly these three) had shaped your life as a child, but that was as unnoticed influences, not as fellow voyagers with whom you could compare notes.
F: I hesitate, because I know I missed something just now, and I can’t seem to get back on track. The obvious answer – more coffee. J
[Got more coffee.]
TGU: Actually, as you just noticed, the answer was not the coffee itself, but the brief pause and disengagement while you walked down the hall, poured, and returned. A very brief interruption that takes your surface mind off the problem is a very good kick-start.
F: Very well. Do you consider yourself kick-started?
TGU: I do. Although of course it was you, not me, being aligned.
You live – anyone in 3D lives – in continuous unnoticed communication with aspects of themselves that may equally accurately be considered non-3D presences. It is the same thing, and, as you have noted, it is a matter of definition which is unimportant anyway but can become an obstacle if allowed to interfere with the substance of the communication. How you think of communication is far less important than what is communicated. It isn’t of no importance – for, the wrong definitions may lead one to conclude that communication is impossible or unreliable – but other than allowing for the possibility, definitions aren’t of much use.
Your continuing communication with “others” or with “other parts of myself” – season to taste – may be entirely non-verbal and unconscious, or may be quite verbal and quite pointed, and anything in between these extremes. But it is there.
Now, if you look at your life not as isolation punctuated by moments of communication, but as continuous interaction which may or may not become conscious at any given moment, your relationships with the non-3D may be seen to resemble those in the 3D. This should come as no surprise, as your mind, operating from the non-3D but in 3D conditions, is the connecting factor between the two experiences. Indeed, why should you expect anything but continuity between the two modes of communication?
F: I’m with you so far.
TGU: You should be able to see that how one defines an experience, or an ability, bounds its possibilities. Too rigid an idea will constrict explorations at the fringes and will certainly work against revolutionizing one’s central ideas. Too little definition may leave the possibilities little more than a blur. The ideal attitude is somewhere between the two – and, note, the ideal for any given moment may differ from past and future ideals. Life is a series of alternations, sometimes exploration, sometimes consolidation.
F: So I gather it is time for me to hear yet more redefinition of terms.
TGU: Let’s say it is a time when you can. You could continue from here. But of course there can be no compulsion. If you wish to pause, as you have done before, there’s nothing wrong with that.
F: Well, let me think about it. These are deeper waters than I had expected.
TGU: Is that anything new?
F: Not for me! Very well, we’ll talk another time. Meanwhile thanks for this.