F. P. Dorchak

Speculative Fiction Author

Esoterica

The Ghost Inside My Child

by

http://youtu.be/ED0HAoPumqc

“Airplane Crash! Plane On Fire! Little Man Can’t Get Out!”

I read about James Leininger (now, a full-fledged Eagle Scout teenager) years ago (around 2000, or so), when the story about the young two-year-old reincarnated from the downed WWII pilot, James M. Huston, Jr, first came out, and have been following his progress ever since. Read the book, Soul Survivor,  his folks published.  The other two stories of reincarnated children on this video are new, and I’d never heard of them before but are just as riveting. I don’t want to say anything about them, so you can enjoy the discovery on your own, in the above, 41-minute video, which was just posted on the Leininger blog.

Not shown in this video, because it’s about children, is another pretty incredible story, involving Jenny Cockell. I highly recommend checking out her and her books, one of which is titled, Across Time And Death, A Mother’s Search For Her Past Life Children.

The thing about reincarnation is that everyone does it. It’s not just those who’ve died nasty deaths…but those who have died nasty deaths are probably more apt to recall past lives, because the circumstances had been so horrible upon their deaths. I’ve also read that some souls, upon death, immediately turn around and jump back into physical life—that doesn’t mean they’re reborn in the same year, that next second, but that they just don’t take any time to “relax” or assimilate their deaths…and jump right back into physical reality in whatever time period they chose (and in James’s case, he describes a little about that briefly in Soul Survivor…about how he, essentially, “floated around” for a period of time looking for the right parents, and observed them for a little before choosing them—note, I said choose).

And, as you watch the above video, consider this…those personalities who have reincarnated into our time? They were also reincarnated in their lives.

Ever consider that?

We all “reincarnate” throughout all our lives, in that (in my humble opinion) we all live multiple—and simultaneous—lives. Life is far too intricate and wondrous to be limited to one, single life. We all have far too much to learn, and we just can’t fit it into one life. I’ve talked about this before in other posts.

It’s disheartening that situations like these arise and the parents involved are not equipped to deal with them. Need to “make it better” or can’t “fix” it. There’s nothing to fix…only to understand. And in understanding, it’s not about the previous personality taking over the current one’s life. It’s simply a matter of understanding what’s happening, fully addressing it, helping the child understand…but also understanding that your life is yours…not anyone else’s…not even that previous personality’s. One should not be worried about a child talking about “another mother”…or that that “other mother” will take over your affections. Don’t you see this can be Daisy-chained ever farther backward, with each previous person’s reincarnational lineage? To everyone? What matters is your present life. What matters is you as a parent or uncle or friend schooling the children with these memories that it’s okay and natural to have them. It is…but you’re in a new place now, those memories cannot really hurt you. Children cry and wail for all kinds of reasons, and we soothe them. Sooth them, here, too. I know there haven’t been tools or guidelines out—until recently—on how to deal with this kind of behavior, but with an open mind and a little research you can understand what’s going on through venues like this, books like Soul Survivor, and so many others. A past life does not have to take control of your child…reliving its memory is one thing, and is healthy to the greater understanding of who we are, why we behave as we do…why we’re afraid of flying, or water, or have  a penchant for music, alcohol, or wide, open plains and Mongolian barbeques. We need to understand these things, not stomp them down into our unconsciousnesses, where they will never really go away, but breed and fester and somehow manifest into symptoms we can never truly understand and end up medicating for the rest of our lives.

Reincarnation also shows how we are all so intimately connected.

Maybe a parent in one life is our spouse or child in another. It should give us a far greater appreciation of each other, that we are all not that different, no, not at all, not even all that separated from each other, no matter that we live on different sides of the planet. That death is not permanent. Life situations are not permanent. That our souls actually do survive beyond death and that, hey, here’s a shocker, we not only choose the lives we live…but also our parents…our family members.

Reincarnational memories usually happen before six years of age, usually around ages 2 or 3. For many, these memories eventually fade after 6 years of age…unless one makes an effort to keep them. I have one instance when I was about six years of age that involved the Civil War, but have had other feelings and predispositions, like an interest in B-17s.  The problem with getting these later is that they’re more filtered by your current life’s beliefs and minutiae, so the memories are not as fully developed, not as complete.

Don’t let reincarnational memories frighten. Be smart about them and learn from them. Be open to them…and be open to your children about them. If you think children can’t handle them, consider what they’re already going through…what they’ve been through in a previous life. Be a parent and guide them through it. If they’re already talking about “my other mother,” describing gruesome death scenes, it’s probably a pretty sure bet they can handle the conversation you control. It’s probably a pretty sure bet that all the good you tell them they can handle. If you don’t understand it, tell them you’re not sure, but together you will both find out what it is, what’s going on, and explore what your child is trying to tell you…but that memories cannot hurt them. Ignoring them, stomping them down can.

Be a parent.

Apply the same techniques you would with any other situation that children are having a hard time with, or are afraid of. Just don’t ignore it. There’s so much to learn and grow from.

Related articles

The Boy Who Was Brave

by

We all to have die sometime of something.

This may sound flippant, cruel, or heartless to some (especially given what I’m about to discuss), but it is a simple truth and not meant coldly. Most of us probably hope our deaths will be quiet and painless…or, perhaps at least in service to some greater good. We all more or less expect to die at a “right” time, after we’ve lived a full life…and those with children certainly never expect for them to go first….

Why do we have to die?

Why do some die horribly?

Why do some act heroically while others are victims?

These are powerful questions for which few have answers…or those who claim to have answers tend to be part of organizations that truck in the metaphysical (I include religions, here, because I’m using “metaphysical” in the broadest of senses). Nothing wrong with that. How else do you expect to find such answers, in real, everyday life, since most of us don’t take the “obvious” as answers, and “obvious” means different things to different people? Many of us are searching for answers to all the “whys” in Life, one of the biggest and hairiest of which is…why death.

Why?

But, no matter what we think we see, we experience, what if the answer to the Why of Death is that there really is no death?

Jesse McCord Lewis’s story is heart-wrenching. I haven’t read the book, only the RD article, but the article (and some Internet research) tells the story of six year old who acted older than his perceived six years of life should have allowed him to…and saved lives.

Jesse’s December 12, 2012 day, in Newton, Connecticut, started like any other day at the Lewis household, according to his mother, Scarlett Lewis. Scarlett woke Jesse up with song and kisses until he giggled. Jesse’s father, Neil, “arrived” (divorced, separated, shift worker…?) to take Jesse to school. It was a sunny morning, and frost coated the car. As Scarlett said her good-byes, she’d found “I love you” scratched into the frost on the car, and Jesse standing there, smiling up at her (she took a picture of it). But, when Neil dropped off Jesse at school (inside the school’s hallway, in a crouched position, I have to assume), Jesse turned to his father, put his hands on his father’s shoulders, and said: “I just want you to know it’s gonna be OK. I love you and Mom.”

Jesse turned and left for his first-grade classroom.

Scarlett tells us that Jesse, only four feet tall, was “born brave,” never shied away from challenges, always had a ready grin (interesting choice of words—not a “smile,” but a grin…). Possessed a “warrior’s heart” and was “an old soul” (another interesting choice of words). He also had a “favorite camouflage helmet.”

Scarlett tells us that when the first blasts of automatic gunfire opened up at Sandy Hook Elementary, there were reports that Jesse didn’t run, and more so, that he stayed by the side of his first-grade teacher, Miss Soto, whom he loved.

The gunman, whose name was Adam Lanza, entered their classroom and opened fire, killing Miss Soto. Survivor reports say that Jesse ended up with a head wound, did not flee, stayed on his feet…and faced the gunman…who ended up pausing to either reload or deal with a weapon’s issue (okay, weird synchronicity, here: as I’m initially writing this, on Dec 31st, about 4:47 a.m., on my iTunes radio the very instant I’d been working on this section was playing a Shinedown song, called “Second Chance.” I paused it when I heard the following: “Tell my mother, tell my father/I’ve done the best I can/To make them realize/This is my life/I hope they understand/I’m not angry, I’m just saying/Sometimes goodbye is a second chance…”; click here are the rest of “Second Chance’s” lyrics). It was in this moment that Jesse yelled to his classmates to run. Nine little kids did as they were told, by someone who possessed an uncanny and coherent presence of mind for someone six years of age that (to my way of thinking) goes beyond any six year old I’ve ever met. All nine who ran, survived.

Following Jesse’s death, Scarlett found in Jesse’s personal effects a picture he’d drawn two days earlier of (in her words) “an angel standing in front of a bad man.” I’ve only found this image in the Wayne Dyer video, on Scarlett’s website, at about the 3:25 mark. It does show a very short person before another, taller, person whose head is “messed up” (i.e., scribbled over) Scarlett also later found that Jesse had also scrawled on their kitchen chalkboard the message “Norurting Helin Love” (“Nurturing Healing Love”). Immediately following Jesse’s funeral, Scarlett further informs that during the balloon release in his honor that the floating balloons had actually formed a heart as they drifted over Sandy Hook Elementary School.

Why—and how—all of this?

One could invoke “God,” but how do you reconcile God “allowing” murder? The murder of innocents? This is another topic that draws much discussion (including the “free will argument)…but…what if reincarnation fit in with most views of what God is? What if reincarnation “fit in” with most religious beliefs? From what I remember of my study of religion in college, it can fit in with most religious tenants. Couldn’t reincarnation explain—through what I like to term “reincarnational angst”—a lot of the violence that pervades our world? Explain unexplainable grudges, anger, conflict? Personal angst? Especially such explosions as this that seemingly come out of nowhere? Yes, mental illness is at play in this instance, but why (again another of the “Big Whys”…) the mental illness? Get past the pure biology or psychology of it all and try to go philosophically, spiritually—what brings on this kind of mental illness? If we’re so quick to leap into religious discussion about devils, battles between Good and Evil, why can’t we also leap into discussions about reincarnation? Okay, it might not be written about in one or another’s holy books…but are computers written about in said holy books? Cars? The concepts of space travel, or capital gains? So, if so, then we might begin to see that perhaps we are the creators of the violence in the world, not some unseen, inherent Evil, but a very personal misunderstanding of confused energy and feelings. Fear. That through the  misunderstanding of our feelings, our urges, in the case of uncorrelated experiences to a person’s current life experiences, that issues from another life might very well be impacting an individual’s psyche. It might be a useful course of action to follow. Again, how much more “far out” is it to consider reincarnational theory then it is to consider an inherent Devil at odds with God? We all like to use terms like “old soul,” in casual conversation…why use it if we don’t believe it?

As I look at the picture of the boy in his “favorite camouflage helmet,” as I look into his face…his eyes…I do not see a six-year-old child.

I see…a soul with a purpose. I see determination.

I believe we all live multiple lives across Time, and that these lives impact each and every other life (our own and others’). Though I don’t believe these lives are lived chronologically, I use the term “reincarnation,” which typically seems to imply (at least in casual conversation) linear chronology. I believe God does allows us our lives…but beyond that, it’s all up to us to create and live them. And this “allow” is meant metaphysically deeply. Is far from a trite utterance. I mean it to mean each of us chooses our lives, our challenges within them, and our physical entrances and exits into corporeal existence, including all that implies.

I feel the abovementioned picture of Jesse shows the spirit and determination of a soldier from another life “come back” to perform a deed (okay, it’s now January 1st, 4:51 a.m. or so, as I reworked this passage, and another Shinedown song on my iTunes radio, “45” plays. As I wrote the preceding, the following lyrics hit me: “And I’m staring down the barrel of a 45/
Swimming through the ashes of another life…”; here is the link to the rest of the lyrics…interesting how this particular song might apply to both Jesse and the gunman). I can’t help but feel that that picture radiates a soldier in another life coming back to save some children from a very bad, messed-up individual. The reasons for something like this are many and varied, but, perhaps, in that other war-time life there had been some strong ties between Jesse, his parents, Miss Soto, and Lanza that related to the nine children who were able to flee that classroom with their lives. Some…unfinished business. This is what I picked up from Jesse’s picture. This is what the song synchrony seems to be reinforcing as I write and rewrite this post (as I write this now [January 1st], Breaking Benjamin’s “Breath” is playing…).

It’s tragic there was a murderer and victims to this story, and not the return of Jesse and the others to their lives. As I’d mentioned, I’d caught this story in Reader’s Digest, and it greatly moved me, as does any heroic, Human Interest story, but the reincarnational aspects of Jesse’s life jumped out to me…and hopefully pointing this out may help others in whatever ways something like this could and should help…but it does in no way justify the gunman’s actions. That person was obviously deeply and profoundly disturbed (the Sandy Hook Elementary link tells that Lanza was obsessed about writing “…about battles, destruction and war“; this clearly tells me there has to be a reincarnational aspect to his angst, given he was never personally in battle in this life, so it adds additional fuel to the soldier reincarnational theory with Jesse), and we must all take responsibility for our actions in whatever life is our current focus, reincarnational angst or no.

We need to curb our anger our hatred…the violence we inflict upon ourselves and one and other…and we can’t do that with methods that are just not working. While I hail Scarlett’s journey to try to make the world a better place with The Choose Love Foundation, I hope that it goes beyond just preaching that all we have to do is love each other “more” (she does talk of “programs,” but I don’t know what those programs are). We need to understand what is going on that all of a sudden more kids and adults are going into schools and killing each other. Why the sudden epidemic? Why schools? I remember no such instances (not one) from my youth. What has changed and why? We need to develop new methods to combat these kinds of disturbed acts. It’s not just a matter of “choosing” love over violence…it’s also about understanding where the underlying anger and violence are coming from and dealing with them. Stomping anything down—even with love—does not rid one of the problem. It merely compresses it. And as we should all know, with compression comes heat and with heat…explosions. Exploring and understanding reincarnation can be one useful tool in an arsenal of tools. From what I’ve learned, once many grow to quantify and understand their problems…understand why they might feel one way or the other, or from where their problems originate…the problems become manageable. Yes, there are always exceptions, and no, reincarnational theory is not a cure-all, but if such issues arise early in life with no apparent starting point in the current life, where else do you—can you—turn? Sure, possibly genetics, but I feel genetics can also be tied to reincarnation, and I’ve read (in more than one, non-metaphysical, source) that actual genetics can be changed within an individual without so-called scientific (invasive) manipulation.

There are many Whys…many of which I certainly don’t have answers to…but in looking to Jesse’s helmeted picture, I see more than a “mere” six year old involved in saving those nine others…there was a man…a soldier, from another time…who briefly visited our existence to help those who survived to survive. I mean he stood up to the shooter and did not run. Faced him. Why more—why Miss Soto—were not saved gets into deeper metaphysical considerations, upon which there are many books written….

Reincarnation is not just a party discussion (and there has been actual serious research performed on the subject), but a very real possibility that can help us better understand ourselves and be put to use in bettering not only our current lives…but all of our lives.

I salute you, Jesse McCord Lewis. Thank you for performing your mission. You were, indeed, a boy who’d been brave.

Related articles

My Ronin/Samurai Life

by

Samurai 1890
Samurai 1890 (Photo credit: kamikasineo)

In 1997, I went for a future life progression. I thought I ‘d try something new, something different, considering you usually only hear about regressions—at least for myself, I had never heard of a progression—checking out for possible future lives. What happened next took me totally by surprise. One could say (as I did during the whole experience…) I was making it all up…but, it’s still a fascinating tale, and one I’ve incorporated into my supernatural murder mystery I’m considering publishing through Amazon’s CreateSpace.

Note (November 20, 2013): I have since released the above “consideration” as The Uninvited. It’s available both as an e-book and a paperback! This event has been incorporated into the novel.

Well, you decide. Below is the largely unedited (I kept it as I originally wrote it) account of my possible ronin existence (“Karen” was the hypnotherapist):

April 28, 1997

Note (5:57 p.m.):  Had my session with Karen just now (4-5:30 p.m.)–and she tricked me!  Well, it was very interesting.  She allowed me to go where I wanted, or needed, to go and I did my normal meditation thing of shapes and colors, and saw the image of a “lying down” oriental structure.  So we went with that.  Now, I didn’t always “see” anything, but more felt things.  I had visual images without the images, is the only way to describe it, though sometimes I did see images.  And I got the session on tape.  Apparently, and this is news to me, I do have a life in Oriental culture, as much as I’ve not been interested in it now (well, that may change…).  Remember that as I describe lots of this stuff, its not like I’m actually there, like I am, writing this, it was more of images and feelings.  Visual-but-nonvisual senses.  The entire time, I felt like I was making it up.  Here’s what I got:  we started off with this person, a warrior-philosopher, enjoying a sunrise.  He (me!) stood on a cliff that overlooked/had a view to Mount Fuji (?!), on a coastline.  It was a beautiful sunrise, and I felt so at one with myself and life.  Felt calm and powerful.  The age of 33 came to mind, but when she asked me what year, I was totally unconcerned (the year was a nonissue to me; I was there to do something, and that’s all), though later 1715 or so came to mind.  1700?  1735?  I had told her I don’t care what year it is, that it doesn’t matter to me.  I wore a heavy, stiff (kinda felt the stiffness) overgarment over white undergarments.  Karen asked for more details but I told her it didn’t really matter to me.  The color was something like red or brown–or a combination of the two.  On the upper portions of the garment was a gold swath of some width–a sash?–across the upper shoulders, and the entire outfit was ornate, the gold embroidered.  Wore sandals of leather–and/or wood?  Had my sword.  My hair was black, and ponytailed in some fashion–two ponytails?  Didn’t feel like it was too long, but shoulder length or so.  I’m powerful and confident, a good fighter, but don’t like the fighting.  It’s a means to an end.  I’m really a philosopher-teacher.  I became a warrior out of “necessity.”  I felt I had much to teach (but also to learn) and had I publicly came out with my views I would have been killed.  So I became a warrior and took to solitude and travel.  I was very good at being a warrior.  The name that came to mind immediately was something like:  Kioshu/Kiashu/Kiushu?  I seem to lean toward the first spelling though.  In looking up in the dictionary, I find that there’s an island in SW Japan called Kyushu, or Kiushu.  So am I picking up on a name or the island?  I feel it’s actually the name I had gotten, because when Karen asked for my name that was the immediate thing that came to my mind, I mean I didn’t even have time to doubt or think “gee, now I have to come up with a name!”.  Fucking incredible.  I consider myself journeying–that wherever I am I’m just visiting–philosophically as well as physically–journeying through life, and this is but a stop for me.  I seem to live alone, in a low, squat, meager dwelling of light-brown wood.  Behind the dwelling (where I stand) are colorful flowers and vegetation against the building.  There’s a dirt/stone? path leading back to the house.  Karen asked if I ate breakfast, and I got something about fish and vegetables–carrots?  And something like “rice wine” to drink.  As I stand with my back to the cliff, and face the house, off to my right is an incline into the lush and heavily vegetated mountains, which I find so beautiful.  There is no real path.  In the distance are high mountains with low cloud cover.  I love it here.  I take to this incline and walk, with only the clothes on me and my sword, and maybe a small pouch to my left front.  Money?  I feel it is my mission in life to help those that seek me out–but also for me to learn.  I just go off in journey and take what comes or is attracted.  I’m very knowledgeable and intelligent (Karen brought this up; she said I seem to be intelligent in this personality).  Eventually, I come to an ancient temple hidden along this path (and feel this is one of the reason I’ve come to live here; it’s extremely secluded and hidden).  The temple is tall, but narrow.  Abandoned.  I stand before it and smile.  Amused.  I think:  good effort [for children].  I understand why the temple was built.  I feel that those that had built this, as do all peoples, make the best attempts at understanding life, so, though however misguided, it is the intent toward understanding and bettering life that counts.  I do not agree with the belief systems of the time and area, and feel it is my chosen “task” to help others understand, and that my being a warrior is a “necessary compromise” to further my purposes.  I continue on.  Along this path I had images of conflict and battle, but did not engage in any.  I am a teacher, to teach whoever’ll listen and needs help–I teach whatever they come to learn–it’s different with each person.  I also learn.  Karen asked what lesson did/do I learn in Kioshu’s life, and I said there was more than one, but a sanctity of life was one.  That, as I stated, “agreements” to kill had been made so my “greater good” could come across.  I also mentioned something about liking the feel of physical objects, like my sword–not in using it to kill, but in its inherent feel, its use in practice.  There’s just a certain feel of steel and sword.  I draw a metaphor between the sword and life:  that life and the sword are double-edged.  It is the intent of the wielder that makes life–or the sword–what it is.

Karen then has me jump ahead in time to the next point of significant interest in my life.  I am now 35.  I am in the middle of battling two bandits/warriors.  I seem to be protecting peasants in the field behind me.  I have conflicting emotions (and actually felt this as I talked to Karen; felt emotion well up within me):  I feel emotional about helping the peasants, feel love for them–but also for those I will have to kill.  I am frustrated that these men are doing what they are doing–don’t they understand they need not do this?  There is no need for anger and greed!  There is a third man behind them, on a (large?) horse, with a bow and arrow–he seems to also be dressed like me.  He watches us.  I also feel anger against these warriors, and with an utter sense of confidence and cockiness, feel, fine, if you’re gonna fuck with me, then you’re gonna die, and I kill them (during this fight, there was a bright, intense “splotch” that brought me out of the trance, and I opened my eyes, but Karen had me go back under.  I found the images were still there, and continued:).  Before I killed the attackers, there was never any doubt I’d win–me dying never entered my mind.  But as I stand there, I look to the horseman, and he looks back.  I sense that he wants to fire at me–but for some reason… doesn’t.  He says nothing.  All he does is calmly turn his horse away, and walk the beast away from us without turning to look back.  I am greatly saddened.  These people–including those I have killed (for a short time, anyway)–will only see the exterior actions and not realize that I have not really killed any one.  Will not understand the philosophical ramifications.  I want to tell the peasants what has really gone on here, but am frustrated because I know they will not understand–and I am a teacher, dammit, it’s my job, my passion, to teach.  I grow weary with the killing, but still choose to continue my way because I feel I still have things to do before I “go.”  Don’t know why I choose not to fight–except that “greater good” argument.

As I wondered if I made it all up or it was real, one thing kept nagging at me:  it emotionally and intuitively feels like me.

Sept 3, 1999

Note (10:30 p.m.):  Just had a weird thing happen.  Was watching a couple-year-old rerun of Sightings, and they were talking about a Japanese lake monster called Ishii, in Lake Akida (couldn’t find this spelling, also from the TV, but found “Ikeda,” and it does talk about a lake monster…), on the island of Kyushu, which is about 1000 miles from Tokyo.  They showed this scene, from above the lake, on a cliff, and in the distance was a mountain (Fuji?)–and it looked exactly like what I’d seen in my warrior vision.  I may look into this a little more!  Reference April 28, 1997 dream entry, “Note” for 5:57 p.m.

May 23, 2001

I noticed many months ago, while doing research and talking with a martial arts instructor that he had the term “Kyoshi” before his name.  I wonder if that’s what I picked up on, in terms of a “name”….

January 18, 2006

As I wrote out an e-mail to a friend of mine about my meeting with another hypnotherapist, “Sydney,” (January 17, 2006, 11 a.m. to noon), it occurred to me that when I went in for that life progression session with Karen, and got the past life regression, instead, it might also give more fuel for me that this is my last physical incarnation, hence there was nothing in the future for me!  And yesterday I thought that perhaps all my 3D-motion issues might actually stem from my perceived WWII crash-and-burn life.  Sydney asked what I thought might have been my previous life, and I told her I’d had thoughts that I might have lived and died during WWII, as a bomber aircrew member, perhaps a tail gunner.  Additionally, I told her I’d had images of being pulled apart by horses in some “court,” which I’d been thinking might be related to this or another Japanese life death, when it also dawned on me that perhaps…it might have been a Mongolian life.  Ever since researching Genghis Khan’s life, I’ve found pictures of the area of upper Mongolia very comforting and familiar.  And that particular death does seem more in keeping with that life. Perhaps my soul really does like elements of drama, given my perceived lives and their deaths….

So…had I made this all up? Was it a past life that I’d been ignoring that had finally leaked through into my consciousness? All I can tell you is that it all seemed pretty damned real at the time.

Samurai Links

Samurai Wiki page

The Samurai Archives Japanese History Page

Related Links

Meditation

by

Levitating, Meditating, Flute-playing Gnu
Levitating, Meditating, Flute-playing Gnu (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I have been meditating most of my life, off and on.

Frankly, it’s hard to do something everyday, when you’re also supposed to be doing something else every day, too. Life just gets busy. And that’s okay, you know, because that’s what living life is all about. Living. Doing things. But, recently I’d hit some rough spots and thought I’d better get back into my regimen. It was then (synchronicity) that I had actually seen a TV commercial advertising OmHarmonics on Lumosity.com. So, I checked them out. Downloaded their introductory meditation music.

Over the years, I’ve found different ways to meditate, everything from the tried and true “om” repetition, listening to your breathing, blanking your mind, et cetera. But also years ago, I’d discovered The Monroe Institute. I’d used their products for a while (they used to send free tapes of different meditation sessions, which was cool), and really liked them; would really love to do their in-person intensives. But after a while, things got busy and I fell away from them. I also believe after a while one should not need to use crutches to meditate, i.e., not have to use tapes to meditate, once you got the hang of things…but it is also fun to try different things, and I do love all the tones (I love pure sound, the pure sounds of pure tones ear docs use on you) used in their Hemi-Sync programs, so it was always fun to use them; but, eventually, I broke away. I still have some of the CDs I’d bought and recently tried them again, and they’re still great. There are so many benefits to mediation, and it’s so easy to do. The hardest part is sitting still. Being still. Being “in the moment.” But when I can do that, and do it right, I’ve had everything from feelings of mental and physical expansiveness to an actual out-of-body experience that did not last long, when I snapped back into me. It was weird, cool, and I wish I could recapture that. I’ve also done what I call “active meditation,” where I’m moving and meditating—usually it had been while working out on a cardio machine where you don’t have to worry about banging into things with your eyes closed. But, you can also do it with your eyes opened.

But, the important thing is to do it.

Yeah, along with everything else you’re doing, I know.

So, either OmHarmonics or TMI are good places to start, but I have to warn that you will get a lot of e-mails from OmHarmonics. It’s not a bad thing if you’re into that, but I’m not, so had to unsubscribe. They have great offers, lots of free stuff, links to others of the same vein, even check up on you, but I just can’t support the volume of “awsomeness” they keep asking of me.

So, give it a go, and enjoy the unplugged downtime. It might take a few weeks, it might be more immediate, but, eventually, you should feel much better about yourself, and life, in general.

The Silver Man

by

The Silver Man (© F. P. Dorchak/Zachary Lin Graphics 2013).
The Silver Man (© F. P. Dorchak/Zachary Lin Graphics 2013).

Is this true?

Did it really happen?

Was it an hypnogogic hallucination?

I’d been e-mailing my brothers one day, back in November of 2009, when one of them, Greg (you know him from such postings as The Most Interesting Man in the World), told me something that kinda, well…blew my mind. Something that to this day still has me waiting for him to pop out from behind a wall and yell “Ha, April Fools!” For going on four years, now, he continues to assure me he’s not yanking my chain. Swears it’s true.

The Silver Man.

I’ve heard of “Shiny people” before, from an in-law who wrote about them in his book, Faith, Family, and Friends, in Chapter 16, “Shiny People,” but my instance sounded different from this (detail below). In the abovementioned e-mail exchange, at the time (though I no longer recall them now), I mention I’d heard of some “silver people” on occasion (and to this day I remember remembering hearing an instance of them)…but when I went searching for them for this post, found no info on them. Whatsoever. Another I know also did a search. Also nothing. I find this curious. So, what I wanted to do here, was to consolidate all I’ve found out in one place, regarding “Silver People.” Admittedly, my instance is no great shakes, when placed next to the other information below, but this is no competition, and so cool I have to relate it. I also want to compile what information I’ve found for others who might also have had a similar experience, similar questions.

I’ve been waffling on posting this for a while…which also gave my brother ample time to come clean and tell me he’s kidding…wondering how it might make me look (but so many others relate similarly structured “visitations” in the tropes of their religious beliefs, I figured I should also be allowed to express my experiences, though I do not attach religious interpretations to them)…but, in the end, I didn’t really “experience” it, as you’ll see—though I was there. It’s so unreal, so mysterious. Creepy, even? Not so much “creepy,” as out-of-this-world cool. And I know many will most likely not believe it. It’s the stuff you hear about in books, movies, and late-night Internet radio. It’s the stuff you hear about from other people, not someone you know. But, my brother swears it’s true, so I believe him.

This is from my brother, Greg (whom I call “The Renaissance Man”). My initials are “fpd” for additional comment and clarification:

“It was when we were kids. Dad was working on my room, so I had to sleep down in that annex in your room (my room had a smaller, attached, “little room,” with a couple steps that led down into it—fpd). I woke up one night, my head was turned so that I was looking right up the stairs at your bed. The moon was really bright and it was shining right in the room. And there was this silver man sitting on the foot of your bed, just kind of looking down at you. He turned and looked at me, paid me very little attention, then turned back to look at you.

“I did what any kid would do and pulled the blanket up over my head. By the time I pulled it down again he was gone. Freaky.

“[He was] Not clothed, just kind of a smooth-skinned featureless man, or woman I guess. No hair to speak of. Regularish human face and build.

“Our rooms were being rebuilt, all three of us boys were in your room. You and Chris (my other brother—fpd) were in beds that faced the window wall, feet pointing towards the door (I believe this should actually be that the heads of the beds were up against the window wall, since he specifically pointed out what our feet were pointing toward the door; I also never remember our beds “facing the window”—fpd). Chris was on the far side of the room behind you.”

Now, on the one hand, there really isn’t much to the above, but on the other hand, it’s enough…isn’t it?

I mean if this is to be believed, some other intelligence had come from wherever it had come from to see me…to sit at the foot of my bed and visit me. Out of everyone else in the world—the universe? Who was I that this being should visit me…and what had transpired between us? Surely, he/she/it wouldn’t have come from wherever it came from just to look at me and not have something theoretically “important” transpire…and why would a being of such advanced stature need to even “physically” (I think it was actually more of a nonphysical thing) come see me?

I don’t think it was that simple, but I also have no answers.

In March of the following year (2010), while I was on a trip to California, my other brother, Chris (whom I call “The Healer”), and I discussed this. We thought we’d try to psychically tune into and receive information about who/what this “Silver Man” was/is. Chris came up with that “s/he/it” was some kind of entity that took an interest in my soul’s growth. S/he/it wasn’t interested in the mundane (hence the look he gave Greg—heh, heh, sorry, Greg, couldn’t resist! ;-] ), but about how I grew as an entity. I take this one step further and also believe that the being is somehow a part of me, as in a “psychic lineage” of some sort. I don’t believe in “third party” universal beings who are removed from us, just “taking an interest” in us, and peeking in from time to time “to see how we’re doing.” I don’t believe in unemotional, dispassionate, curiosity. I believe we are all tied to each other, and that we have infinitely related versions of ourselves in multiple realities or universes and we all interact. And of course we are all part of All That Is (“God” to the many of you). So, I believe there is a direct link between me and my Silver Man.

So, I’ve played with many ideas, since hearing this, but, interesting, huh? I mean, some being from the Great Beyond sat on the end of my bed as I slept in the middle of the Adirondack woods of upstate New York.

My cousin-in-law, Phil, in his book, Faith, Family, and Friends, wrote about his experience with “The Shiny People,” while dealing with a heart attack at age 37. In his book he described that after having come out of a coma while in the hospital, and while talking with his mother, he’d seen a glow behind her. “A soothing brightness,” he described it. This light came toward him. His legs and back had been hurting him—when suddenly he was pain free. As this light came to him, he also had the sense of people behind him (he was in your standard hospital room at the time). He thought himself to have been in a dream, as the colors grew vividly bright and multicolored. There were shooting star-like lights that Phil felt were prayers. The light was peaceful, and he felt a great understanding overcome him. It was like he was no longer in that hospital room….

Phil was then standing before a horizon, the bright light ahead of him, over that horizon. He saw the backs of people—only their backs—walking toward and over the horizon, into this brilliant radiance. He tried to go, but felt held back. Suddenly, he had the odd sensation of simultaneously being in his body looking out/outside his body looking in…with someone holding him in their arms (like Michelangelo’s statue, “Pieta,” he says). He was small—yet still 37 years old—and was the same size as all the others heading toward that horizon. As he watched them, he saw as they all turned shiny. The person holding him was dressed in a hooded robe, and his/her flesh and robe were the same color, a shiny pearl color that reflected all of the colors that surrounded the both of them. The colors changed as the people walked by, and the shooting-star prayers continued to fly past…“very clean and pure colors.” He was then mentally told to be patient and go back and heal, by who was holding him. He returned to his hospital room.

After I wrote the initial draft of this post last year, then left for work, I asked myself to give me some kind of clue…any information…on what or who this Silver Man was. At lunch, I stopped by a Barnes and Noble, went to the Spiritual/Metaphysical section, and allowed myself to gravitate toward one end of the bookcase. As I scanned the shelves, one book immediately caught my attention: Ultraterrestrial Contact, by Philip Imbrogno. I opened the book and immediately went to the index.

Silver Lady, 202 – 205.

I went to it. In it, paranormal researcher Ellen Guiley Rosemary describes an event that happened to her involving…a Silver Lady. She said that over a period of time, she met a tall, silver woman “dressed in flowing, glowing, silver garments” in her dreams. Their communication was nonverbal, and she kept her face turned away from her during most of their contact, but when she was finally able to look at her face it was “…an oval swirl of iridescent color like mother-of-pearl.” Mostly, they met in her dreams, but one night in 1988, she awoke at three a.m. to find her standing beside her bed. The Silver Lady appeared solid and glowed with a silvery, shimmery light. During this encounter, however, she describes having received a tremendous, nearly overpowering “download,” she called it. When it was over (when she felt she could take no more of the “download”), the Silver Lady had departed, Ellen found her bedroom window open—which she took as sign (she doesn’t spell out what this “sign” was, however; I assume nothing). She had no more experiences with this Silver Lady, whom she thought to be an angel, but in 1991, while visiting medium, Eddie Burks, she asked “Who is the Silver Lady?” Burks channeled that Ellen did not have “quite an accurate picture” of who the Silver Lady was. In the Silver Lady’s channeled words: “I am not an angel, but am of the angel realm and the human realm.” The channeled Silver Lady further said that “she” was an “intermediary” between those two realms for purposes of “interpretation.”

I love that!

No evil, end-of-world bell ringing, not an “angel,” as usually described (note Ellen did so, herself), but something else entirely. Basically, something beyond Human ken.

Whole Light Beings (added after initial post, 2/15/13)

A friend of mine sent me a short blurb of information from “The Book of Knowledge:  THE KEYS OF ENOCH,” by J.J. Hurtak. She told me that it describes “Whole Light Beings,” who are described as:  “Those entities of Light that exist in pure bodies of energy and travel through the universes by quanta mechanistic corpuscles of Light and move in the midst of Man by gravitational fluxline controls.”  (See Key 316:30-35).

Wow. Okay.

So, what was it that my brother saw all those years ago, sitting on the edge of my bed, in the bright Adirondack moonlight? Was my Silver Man of the “angel realm and the human realm“? An interpretive intermediary?

But curiously, I also noticed another similarity between another event in my life and Ellen’s, above. When I was in air force navigator training years ago, and having issues deciding if I was going to stay or go, I had a really weird experience I’ll write about in another post, but the end result was that I had seen not one but two ghosts (at the same time), and when I awoke the next morning the door to my quarters were wide open.

Mind you, this was on a military base, and I’ve never sleepwalked. Our quarters opened into the parking lot. So, I woke up and found my quarter’s door three-quarters fully opened, and found myself looking outside into the parting lot from my bed. I later made the decision to leave navigator training (I was never good with doing numbers in my head).

I have absolutely zero memory of any of what my brother had related to me. I’ve talked with Greg more about it afterward, several times. He maintains he remembers it clear as day, and that he’d been wide awake—that, in fact, he’d had trouble sleeping that night. If I had an experience like this, I’m sure I’d also remember it clear as day and through to the present! He also mentioned that he’d thought he’d already mentioned this to me, but he hadn’t. Yeah, I’d remember that. Anyway, as much as Greg jokes around (well, he does get paid for it), he’s fast and furious in raising the “Bullshit” flag. I know no one quicker to running that flag up the flagpole than him. So, if he says he saw it…I believe him.

Until I see him poke his pointy little head around the entrance to my office.

Nope—nuthin.

Now, I know many will think, yeah…but what about hypnagogic hallucinations?

I’ve had hypnagogic hallucinations before—oh yeah, like the stark weirdness of the Silver Man, this one I remember from back in my college days living off campus. I swear I’ll remember this one until the day I die. It was of a giant, black spider the size of a person, clinging to the ceiling directly above me, while I was in bed—yeah, you bet I still remember that image—so I know things can look extremely real in the in-between world of sleep and awake life, but I also know, that those delusions I’ve had never remained for more than an instant, a flash; never more than a “beat,” as writers might say. Never moved. Yeah, I’d leapt out of bed faster than you can blink, flicked on all the lights, and checked under all the sheets, under the bed, in my shorts, you name it. Of course it’d been fake. Not really there. What my brother saw lasted more than a beat, and possessed deliberate movement. And the way my brother describes it, who my brother “is” and how I’ve seen him raise his revered Bullshit Flag over the years (as well as other “ghostly experiences” he’s related), again, I have no choice but to believe him. Was/is my Silver Man an otherworldy entity that took an interest in me? Some kind of intermediary between the mythical and corporeal? Perhaps “just” an otherworldly visitor checking out a strange little sleeping human boy? I do believe who/whatever it was/is, is not totally physical, but a mixture of physical and nonphysical attributes, given the human form, but beyond that, any guess is as good as mine, but to think something like that actually took “time” out of his/her/its “day” to spend it with me…to check me out…is really kinda cool. I do believe that we all have similar experiences, we just aren’t able to “catch” them, if you will. Or are open to them. I don’t think this is unique to just me; I believe many, if not all of us, have such visitations, but most are never made aware of them. Or we see them and immediately discount them. And, no, I do not believe the “Silver People” evil, end-of-world, or anything else negative. I’ve had a great life, yes, have even felt like “someone” has been watching over me, as far as that means anything, so I do believe these experiences are positive experiences. Others may be more fearfully predisposed, so their experiences might be more “evil” or “end of world,” but I feel that is because of one’s predisposition, not an inherent “we’re all gonna die” scenario. We all filter our lives through the filter of our beliefs. It’s unavoidable—but also necessary.

Though some of these experiences may be unrelated (but, who’s to say?), I really wanted to document them together, for others who might have similar experiences and also cannot find anything about them. Please, feel free to relate any experiences or resources you might have or come across, and thank you for stopping by and reading this rather long post!

Thanks to my brother, Greg, for sharing this with me and allowing me to post it.

And did you notice that graphic? I commissioned Zach Lin to do this for me, and what a great job he did! Mucho thanks to him for his excellent work. Please check out his site!

But…I often ponder…what is my “Silver Man” up to these days. I would really love to meet him/her/it again…consciously, this time.