Friday, June 25, 2021
2:40 a.m. “Disassembly and the separate consciousness of what had been units.”
You understand what we mean by that?
Very vaguely. I’d hate to have to try to put it into words.
Well, that’s our job, isn’t it? But as an orienting initial image, remember that what you are – as an individual-community and, within that, as the strands that came together to form you – do not go anywhere at death. You are what you were. In fact, “are” and “were” are somewhat misleading. “You are what you always were” means, “You are what you are.” Only, as you step through that doorway, or let’s say as the strait-jacket falls away from you, now you remember. It’s the same universe; you are the same part of the universe. But now you remember that.
I’d think it would come as a huge relief.
You are speaking of emotional relief. It is, but it is a relief in general. If you still had a body, you’d say it was a physical relief, as well as an emotional relief. It is a release from pressure.
Well, mission completed, anyway. You were given a glimpse yesterday.
I was. I wasn’t intending to share it, though.
Perhaps it was given as a gift not for you to hold to yourself, but to share.
You can imagine my reasons for reluctance. Hell, you know them probably better than I do.
We do. However we suggest you share the two quick experiences, and your thought about them. It is not an interruption nor a diversion. It is integral to yesterday’s theme.
All right. Yesterday, following our session, I lay down again to rest a bit before transcribing and sending. Lying there, I wasn’t sleeping, I think, nor was it quite a lucid dream. Afterwards I concluded that it was closer to remote viewing than anything else, not that definitions are important. I remember (or I think I do, anyway) beginning with the sense I’d gotten of how we extend everywhere and everywhen potentially.
Was it my idea? Was I being prompted? In light of your prompting this morning, I’m beginning to see it as a combination of my own propensity, plus some subtle steering. In any case, I found myself inside Jack Kennedy’s mind, in his final moments. I don’t remember if I thought I was observing or thought I was inventing, and it did not seem to matter, for it was as if I was there, not as Frank observing, but as Jack experiencing. It was very persuasive – or, no, that sounds like there was something being argued. Let’s just say, it was very real, very matter-of-fact, in the same way you might experience any moment of your life.
There he was, enjoying the crowds and their enthusiasm, their love. It was a bright midday, hot like it can be when you’re out sailing. Suddenly, an impact, as a bullet tears into your neck, though you don’t immediately realize what it was. Then a couple of seconds later, the impact that blows you right out of life. You don’t hear the shots, you don’t feel the body’s pain, you don’t reason out what happened; suddenly your consciousness is in another place, so to speak. I don’t mean it isn’t still right there in Dallas in the car, I mean it is suddenly no longer constricted, and you see the whole scene from the outside.
Here’s the nub of it: There is a bundle of reactions, including regret, but predominantly there is a sense of relief from pressure. No matter what problems remain, no matter the consequences to be faced by others, no matter any unfinished business, there is a sort of mental shrug as if to say, “Well, I can’t do anything about it; it isn’t my responsibility now.”
Immediately after that, and (surprisingly enough, come to think of it) without any obvious segue, I found myself reflecting that this way of observing is the process Joe McMoneagle and other remote viewers use. It is what I have done sometimes, not knowing just how I was doing it. (And, as I write this, I remember that I connected my knowing what Jack Kennedy was feeling with a remote viewer’s knowing what someone being viewed might be thinking or feeling, and that led swiftly to the thought of how Joe had experienced his working.)
And I got that the point was to show that the ability opened up as a result of changing our view of how things are. Just as I taught people in my weekend course, you don’t have to go anywhere or do anything, and if you once absorb that realization, it removes the obstacle, which was never anything but obstacle in your own mind.
And I can see, now, why you wanted me to share that. It is germane.
It certainly is. Well, the same thing happens to you at the moment of physical 3D death, you see. (At least, it does unless for some particular individual reason it is blocked.) The obstacles that were physically reinforced (the various physical conditions that encouraged you to experience yourselves as separate) fall away. It is true that the habits of a lifetime may obscure your new expanded awareness for a time, but it is there for whenever you are able to accept it.
When you do accept that greater awareness, when you unfold into greeter life, so to speak, it is somewhat like what you can experience in 3D life while remote viewing.
I’m getting a sense of kinship to psychometry.
Exactly. You could say you are psychometrizing the universe – or you could equally justly say the universe is psychometrizing you.
That’s emphatic, but cryptic.
You think you’re going to keep looking at everything from the point of view you held while in 3D?
Ha! “Disassembly and the separate consciousness of what had been units.”
Jack Kennedy had functioned (as far as he knew consciously) as a unit. That unit comprised various strands, each of which acquired new –
Oh, we’ve never mentioned this, have we? But maybe it’s obvious?
It wasn’t obvious to me. Holy cow.
Describe, and we will comment as needed.
Well, take Joe Smallwood. From my point of view, he is a strand, something of a “past” life. But from his point of view, he is a unit in the way I experience myself as a unit, and I am part of his future existence, an existence he may vaguely sense (but more probably doesn’t), but has no concept for.
That’s right. So each of Jack Kennedy’s strands were changed by his life – by their life in him, put it. He, as a soul assembled (so to speak) in 1917, continues beyond 1963 as a strand.
That strand does not come to an abrupt end; it does not cease to experience and to grow. Neither do you.
It’s very clear, at least at this moment, hopefully from here on. No wonder you can’t ever give a good answer in ten words or less when somebody says, “What do you experience after death?”
We relate, as we said.
Yeah, but that didn’t mean anything to us.
So what would you have said, knowing what you know now?
I suppose I’d say, we continue to live, both collectively and individually, and we continue to be woven into the fabric of all that is.
And that, of course, would be much clearer to people than your saying, “We relate.”
Smiling. This was wonderful. The future life of strands. Is that our next topic?
It could be. We may offer something else, but if you find yourself at sea, start there.
I can’t tell you how satisfying it is, to finally begin to get a sense of things, not just a way of conceptualizing.
Till next time, then, and thank you.