Wednesday, May 27, 2009
The Rewards of Listening to Spirit
It can very rewarding when we listen to Spirit, even if doing so may seem odd and inappropriate. For example, while wrestlng with certain writing issues, I emailed medium Patti Sinclair (whom I had met some years before), out of the blue, to get her permission to reference in one of my writings, a reading she had done. Patti graciously agreed and I published the writing. However, the real story is that my contacting Patti set up a series of marvelous synchronicities involving my son Ryan, who has crossed over but is alive and active in Spirit, and who arrived at one of Patti’s gallery events to help her deliver a number of healing messages to people who had lost children. Very rewarding for all involved! And later, my older daughter Kristen was to follow thru on a nudge she had gotten some years before, and contact Patti for a reading. As a result, Kristen was rewarded with marvelous messages from beyond in which many family members came thru Patti with validating information.
My take is that none of these rewards would have manifested had I not listened to Spirit and contacted Patti. Somehow (I have no idea how) my contacting Patti led to my son's showing up in Spirit to assist her at the gallery event and help bring about a number of healing messages.
Here is how the story unfolded, beginning with an email Patti sent to me on January 24, 2009:
I had a gallery event last night in Bloomfield , Ct. There were about 45 people who attended. There was a young man, maybe about 23 or 4, standing, in Spirit, up in the front of the room with me. He had a good sense of humor and was clearly very ascended. I kept telling the audience members what he was doing as it made me laugh the way he would pace when I would pace. He would rub his head when I would rub mine etc.
At one point I asked him why he was here and he said, "To bring the other kids in…I help greet the kids who don't make it, mostly teenagers and young 20 somethings...It's my work. I love it." Fair enough. As I said before, I liked his energy. I was blessed to have him there with me.
Half way through the reading I said, "Do you want to tell me your name? Maybe your family is here." Brian...Brian? "Does anyone have Brian in Spirit?" No takers...I look at him…Brian? Then I look over at my daughter and she has a white glow around her and I see him point to her and smile. Now he is standing behind her. My daughter's name is Alanna RYAN...He smiles at me again and I ask the group. "Is it Ryan? Does anyone have Ryan in Spirit?”
I can't tell you how it happened but just minutes after that the energy switched. A kid who was killed on a motorcycle on his way returning it to the dealer because his parents didn't approve of it, came through to his adoring Aunt and cousin. They have been waiting 6 years to hear from him. A kid who drowned in a lake at 15 in 1978 came through to his Mother's best friend. She (the Mom) has not moved forward in her life since then. A young girl who was killed with three other teens two years ago came through to her best friend who came on a "whim" at the last minute to the gallery…It was really amazing. Even to me.
I thanked Ryan for coming and he said he would come again if it was ok with me. I said of course it was ok. I would love it.
When I got to my room last night one of the attendees had written me a note to say that she has seen auras around people only three times in her life. One around her husband when he came home from the military, one around a young boy in a church she attended and one around me last night. She said it was white with a ruffled edge. She told me it made her cry. I knew it must have been Ryan.
When I got home this morning (we spent last night on the road), I went upstairs to rest because I have to work again tonight. As I crawled into rest for a bit my husband came in and said, "Oh, I forgot to give you this. It came in yesterday's mail." It was your book [Into the Mystic (From the Streets of Brooklyn)]. I sipped my tea and started reading... "Then [medium] Suzane [Northrop] said, ‘Someone over here has lost a child. Who has Brian?’ Then I said, ‘Is it Ryan?’ I wept and then said a prayer to your son thanking him for being in service and for changing the lives of so many. He certainly showed me his Mystical ways last night.
However this "feels" to you I honor it. I only know that from my viewpoint as a professional medium, this is another beautiful message from your cherished son. You MOST certainly HAVE raised a beautiful spirit.
God's blessings and grace to both of you...To all of us..xx
I wrote back to Patti saying,
thanks so very much for the beautiful message--awesome and validating on a number of levels. first, it appears that the experience occurred on jan 23, 2009, right? ryan was born on jan 23, 1982, so he came to you on his birthday. that would make him 27 if he were here today in the physical, but when he appeared to me in 1997 he also appeared looking a couple or three years younger than he would have been, so the fact that he presented himself to you looking "maybe about 23 or 4" is consistent and validating.
may i ask, what do you mean that he "was clearly very ascended?" i know that when he appeared to me in 1997 he seemed to be "a prince of the cosmos," as i described him in my book. later i would interpret this to mean that i was connecting more with his oversoul. now i'm thinking that "princely" look may have had something to do with his "very ascended" aspect, as you describe it. what do you think?
re: you statement that "At one point I asked him why he was here and he said, 'To bring the other kids in.'" this strikes me as the flip-side of "psychopomp" work in shamanism which involves helping lost souls find their way to where they should be on the other side. i have done some psychopomp work myself and so i find it synchronistic that my son in spirit is doing like work by helping souls find their way to their loved ones here.
thanks so much for this: "As I said before, I liked his energy. I was blessed to have him there with me."
the way he got his name across to you by standing near your daughter Alanna RYAN was just too much! and i will point out that since my book and press kit were mis-mailed to you, they arrived late, but with perfect timing for you to read after ryan showed up -- how in sync his visit to you was when compared to when he came to me thru suzane northrop, as i write about in the second chapter of the book. had the press kit and book been mailed to the right address and arrived on schedule, you might have read that second chapter a few days earlier, and this one validating synchronicity would not have emerged in the validating sequence that it did.
so great that ryan helps bring children on the other side to their loved ones here, including the kid who was killed on a motorcycle, the kid who drowned, and the young girl.
all of what you experienced and shared most certainly "feels" great to me, and i definitely honor it as well.
re: "You MOST certainly HAVE raised a beautiful spirit." well, thanks but i can't take credit for raising him. in many ways, he has raised me--spiritually. but i hear what you are saying in that regard. i do "HAVE" a son in spirit, and i like to think that my connections with him here somehow help raise him as well.
THANKS SO MUCH!!!!!
Patti replied as follows:
All I can say is "Oh My Goddess!" How incredibly great that YOU are validating WHY Ryan had the Birthday candles around him when he and I were "talking" at the front of the room..DUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I kept asking the participants if the B-day message was for their loved one but they weren't…I wasn't putting a real personal spin on "Ryan" as he came to me, so it never occurred to me that he was showing me the validation for himself. It was Ryan who kept the package from arriving on time, of course! How great! . . . I am so blessed to have been able to share this miracle with you.. . [Later,] I saw Ryan again. He was wearing an NYU sweatshirt and a very worn pair of Levi jeans. Bare feet and a warm smile. He didn't say anything, just winked at me. . .
I answered and said:
re ryan's NYU sweatshirt -- i have a law degree from nyu and my older daughter got her BA from nyu as well. . .
Later, I shared these emails with my daughter Kristen who further validated the information coming thru Patti, in an email to me:
Hey Dad,
Thanks so much for sending this. I really appreciate it! . . . definitely too many coincidences for me to get too left brain about it. Anyway, one thing that really stands out to me is this...There were many times when I was with Mimi [Kristen’s maternal grandmother who passed recently] after she got sick that I felt DPs around, especially when she was in the hospital or very sick in her bed at the nursing home. I think these are the times that she was more towards the spirit world than the physical. Well, I was more in touch with feeling Ryan around than anyone else, and sometimes Nana [Mimi’s mother] too. Mom used to say she felt her dad a lot, but I wasn't really getting that, perhaps because I didn't know him. Sometimes I would feel Ryan standing next to me or behind me when I was next to Mimi's bed. A lot of times I would be talking to Mimi when I felt this and she would stop looking at me and focus on a point past my shoulder and start cracking up laughing. I got the sense of him making goofy faces at her behind my back to make her laugh. Then other times I would sense him leaning against the footboard or the window or a wall, very casual like Patti described, with sort of a looping grace. . .
So after a few times of this, whenever I would feel him across the room, I would stare at the spot and trying "see" more clearly his features or get some kind of sign (looking for some sort of validation, I guess!), and almost always the thing that came through was him winking at me! At the time I thought that was so random, I mean, who winks at people? So, when I read that part in Patti's description (along with the NYU sweatshirt, which has you said has significance for us both) the only thing I could think of was "Holy crap!" :)
Anyway, you've mentioned Patti to me before. A few yeas ago I tried to set up an appointment for my friend…and I to go see her. We had a few tentative dates, but [my friend] kept backing out or not responding so I stopped trying. I didn't really want to drive by myself to Connecticut so it didn't materialize. I doubt very much that she would recall this, but wanted to let you know. She seems really great, and I like her new website!
Indeed Kristen went on to make an appointment with Patti this month (May, 2009) and the results were off the charts! I’ve asked Kristen to describe what happened in a comment to this blog here, and I hope that she soon will.
Thanks for reading!
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Message from the 9/11 Restless Spirits
It’s difficult to mix discussions of spirituality (where the goal is often to bring people together as one) and politics (which can be so divisive)—but sometimes it’s unavoidable. Submitted for your consideration: a discussion of my encounters in September 2008 with a group of energies I would come to call the “9/11 restless spirits,” who asked me to research and pass along information about what really happened on September 11, 2001. I told them yes and am now asking you to please consider:
My employer’s office had been located in the West Village since the summer of 2000, and we were there on that indescribably horrible day in the late summer of 2001—September 11, 2001 to be precise—or “9/11” as it has come to be known. Altho the office was only about a mile and a half due north of the Twin Towers, it was still worlds away. Indeed, despite the surreal horror surrounding us on that terrible day, we were able to escape without very much ado—unlike the estimated 2,600 innocent people who were in fact trapped and killed at the World Trade Center.
Like so many others who to some extent experienced 9/11, my co-workers and I had readjust to life in Manhattan following that monstrous attack. Eventually, we did. By the summer of 2008, we hardly even spoke of 9/11 anymore. Of course it was (and still is) very difficult and heart-wrenching to look up in the direction of the World Trade Center and NOT see the Twin Towers standing, but not much was (or is) actually spoken about it.
In the spring of 2008, following a business merger between my employer and another company, the new corporate structure announced that we would be leaving the West Village and moving downtown to the financial district—one short block from Ground Zero. I was shattered. Gone would be the free parking in the residential West Village—which meant no more driving to work, and thus no freedom after work to drive to dancing venues, Broadway theaters, or uptown restaurants. And no more topless summer sunbathing at lunchtime on the relatively private south side of Pier 40. For it soon would be time to return—via the dreaded subway—to the Wall Street area rat race I had endured during the early days of my working career so many years before.
When we actually made the move in August 2008, it wasn’t as bad as I feared—it was exponentially worse. Every time I stepped off the subway at Rector Street and walked by Ground Zero to get to my office, I would become very depressed. It felt like part of my soul was gone. In shamanic terms I was experiencing “soul loss,” of which depression is a very real symptom. It wasn’t just the madhouse environment, or the hawkers peddling photos of the 9/11 tragedy, or even the sight of Ground Zero itself bringing back memories of that tragic day. No, there was something more, and I was at a loss to explain it.
One day while I was walking despondently around the World Trade Center area, I telepathically called out to my spirit guides and spirit helpers and asked (as if they were to blame), “Why the fuck do you have me in this godforsaken place? It’s killing me!” They replied, clearly and matter-of-factly, “We need your energy here.”
“Now what the hell is that supposed to mean?” I wondered. I asked my spirits in less politically incorrect terms, but received no explanation. And so it was up to me to figure out.
All I could think of at the time was NOT getting caught up in the mindless rat race that IS lower Manhattan, and refusing to sink to the level of rudeness and borderline inhumanity prevailing on the subways and in the streets. Instead, I made it a point to be overly courteous, e.g., allowing people to step in front of me when we would otherwise be competing for a spot in the asphalt jungle, and being respectful and polite to those with whom I came in contact. It was funny…at times I would stop to let someone cross the street in front of me and cause a pedestrian pileup because no one was expecting such a basic courtesy. But despite the moments of levity, when I got right down to it, life around Ground Zero was eating me up.
Then came the commemoration activities on Thursday September 11, 2008. Intersections were blocked off to traffic and the streets were flooded with more police officers than I have ever seen at one time. Thousands of people paraded in and around the area, but I avoided most of it. However, I did make it a point to walk passed Ground Zero once, to pay my respects. Later, a friend of mine at work, Dave—thru whom I have gotten messages from Spirit before—mentioned that at the commemoration he had seen a sizeable number of “9/11 truth movement protesters.” Just hearing that report from Dave jolted me, but at the time, I didn’t know why.
On the day following the 9/11 commemoration and I was planning to go to the New York Shamanic Circle (see http://www.newyorkshamaniccirlce.org/), which I have attended regularly (on the second Friday of each calendar month) since March 2001. This was to be the first circle I’d go to since my employer had moved our offices to the World Trade Center area. I used to be able to walk to the circle from the West Village worksite, but walking there from Ground Zero would be a bit of a trek, and not comfortably doable in the hard rain being forecast. So, as a treat to myself, I drove to work and paid $25 to park (including $2 tip), just so I’d have my car to drive to the circle and home afterward.
All day long I was getting “fives” (e.g., 555) popping up on license plates and elsewhere, indicating that positive and enjoyable experiences were immediately ahead (“5” is my “magic number”), even though there was indeed a hard and steady rain falling, as the weatherman had predicted.
Immediately after work, I attended a party in a local bar celebrating a co-worker’s promotion. I could only stay a short while before heading over to get my car. I walked toward the parking garage with another co-worker friend who had read my book “Into the Mystic…” some months before. He gave me a lot of positive and unexpected feedback about the book, making it a fun walk despite the rain.
On the ride to the Village, I didn’t know what to expect parking-wise, but as fate would have it, I got a legal spot right in front of 219 Sullivan Street, the building where the New York Shamanic Circle meets each month.
Visiting the circle itself that night was an Ecuadorian medicine woman named “Susana.” I’d been to one other circle with her before, and it is so great having her there, for she has such marvelous energy.
Olivia, a relatively new core-circle member, did the “calling in of the spirits” in what she described as “the Peruvian tradition,” which involved a series of unique words chanted to each of the five directions (East, South, West, North, and Above; but not to the lower or center worlds).
After the other opening rituals, the first journey of the evening was essentially to “Visit with your power animal,” which presented an opportunity for me to reconnect with “Buck,” my own power animal. I had not encountered Buck in my journeys for some time.
As the drumming brought us to an expanded state of awareness, I began to vision. Things started off very dark (due in part to the super blindfold I was wearing). My maternal grandparents’ house on the way to my “Sacred Garden” was very faint. It seemed to be fading away. I thought that this was because I had finished my business there with the soul retrieval/lineage healing I had done for my grandfather at a Hank Wesselman workshop four months before, and that my grandparents had moved on. I wondered whether the house would be totally gone from my middle world of dream visions in the future.
Buck greeted me as I entered my Sacred Garden. I took to lying down with my neck against the long tree trunk log that is a prominent feature in my Garden (reflecting how I was positioned in the drum circle, using my rolled up towel behind my neck as a support pillow). Buck shape-shifted into a miniature version of himself. I brought him to me with my cupped hands and held him to my heart. Then he shape-shifted again, this time into a bigger-than-life deer. I stood up and hugged him around the neck, receiving and returning real Love in the process.
Spontaneously Buck led me away from my Sacred Garden and into a hell realm. Many souls were trapped there, suffering. Buck told me (telepathically) what my job was: “Show them the way out,” which was a “psychopomp” directive. (Note: psychopomp work involves finding lost souls in the middle world of dream and helping them get to where they are supposed to be (not “The Light,” necessarily). Psychopomp work can also involve helping people transition from life to the afterlife.)
In response to Buck’s directive, I formed my right hand in the shape of a gun, pointed my trigger finger toward one of the walls and simply thought to blast thru. Laser-like energy shot out of my finger and the wall started to blow apart. I repeated the assault on another wall, feeling like a superhero among mortals. Then I told the hell-realm souls that they too could blast thru the walls simply by intending to do so, and willing it to be. They mimicked my efforts and were also successful. From our blasts of energy, the walls started to crumble. Despair was turning to joy as the open Universe came into view, and the souls were being set free—just as the callback drumming at 219 Sullivan Street was signaling an end to the journey. The vision faded as I shifted my consciousness back to the room.
As usual, following the journey there was time to take notes on what we experienced and for some people (not I this time) to share what had happened with the rest of the circle. After that, Susana announced the second journey. In the main, we were directed to journey on “What are your gifts?”
The gift that came to me was “compassion.” I have never really thought of myself as much of a compassionate person, but later asked family and friends if they thought I was and they said yes. Somewhere along the line came the suggestion that I be more compassionate with myself. I took the message to heart.
Journey 3 was the kicker. Joey announced that the journey was “In honor of 9/11.” He noted that seven years had passed since September 11, 2001 and that in shamanism, there are seven-year cycles. He said it was “a time to release grief.”
Then Joey announced that the third journey was to be in two parts. Part 3A—if we would be comfortable doing so—was to “Stand like a tree and do psychopomp work.” This thoroughly amazed me since I had already done psychopomp work in the first journey when Buck my power animal led me into the hell realm to destroy it and set free the souls imprisoned there. Part 3B was to “Be a lightworker with regard to 9/11,” or as Susana put it, “Become an urban shaman.”
Once we started to actually journey, I was immediately being asked by unidentified but benevolent-feeling spirits to allow their energy to flow through me while I was in the World Trade Center area. “It’s quite easy, really,” I was told. All I had to do was grant them the permission to do so and it would be done automatically. Feeling that this was a natural fit for me, I agreed.
Later, I shared this and the earlier psychopomp journey with the rest of the circle and was rewarded with a number of “Oooos! and Wows!” from circle members. After we wrapped up the circle for the night, Susana came to me and said, “Thank you for sharing that. It was very important that you shared that.” I was honored!
Alone afterward, I had some pizza and wine at one of my favorite eateries, The Pizza Box on Bleeker Street. I hadn’t been there in some time and the manager recognized me from years before when my daughter Kristen and I used to eat their regularly, during her undergraduate days at NYU. Felt great—more of the good day and night foretold by all the fives I had been getting throughout that Friday.
Saturday was a kind of late summer beach day with enough hazy sunshine to improve upon my fading tan. I decided to bike it to Rockaway and got there at 11:07 real time. NO ONE was on the beach—just the way I like it! I ambled over toward the shore where a recently-formed sand bluff overlooking the Atlantic Ocean awaited me. By then, the sun was shining stronger. For over an hour I had the whole beach to myself before people started showing up. What a great morning! I felt in retrospect that I was being rewarded for agreeing to allow spirit energy to flow thru me while I was in the Ground Zero area.
Sunday morning’s happenings I was not ready for. While I was in the shower (where I’ve experienced spontaneous mystical events before), a group of "9/11 restless spirits"—accompanied by a silently observing John Lennon—came to me and telepathically asked that I—in addition to allowing spirit energy to flow thru me while I was around Ground Zero—do a little more. Specifically I was to research what really happened on 9/11 and spread the word wherever I thought the word might be well received. I agreed.
A couple of nights later I woke up alone in my bed around three in the morning, totally energized and absolutely driven to do some 9/11 research. I jumped on the computer and in just two short hours had an idea as to what the 9/11 truth movement was about--a search for truth about what really happened on 9/11. It was obvious from my manic research that many people had been on the 9/11 truth-finding mission for some time, and they were sharing a wealth of information for all to read thru the miracle of the worldwide web.
The next day I began emailing 9/11 truth information and relevant website links to family and friends with whom I felt the messages might resonate. That first effort has been the heart of what I’ve done so far, but I continue to send out emails and speak up about the 9/11 truth movement when opportunities arise, like here.
And guess what? After having done all this in earnest, that horrible feeling I got whenever I entered the World Trade Center area is gone—totally. And the depression has lifted. In shamanic terms, my soul part has returned. I still miss working in the West Village, but being around Ground Zero no longer turns me into a despondent mess. In fact, I don’t mind being down there that much at all. An example of Instant Karma, methinks, for doing what I had promised the restless 9/11 spirits I would do.
I hope that recounting my 9/11 experiences here provides you with some benefit and perhaps an education as well. Please consider looking into what really happened on 9/11, via the links above and/or in your own way. Most importantly, EXAMINE THE EVIDENCE OBJECTIVELY. And then, if you agree that people should be made aware, pass along the information to others who may be receptive to and support the idea that we need an objective investigation into what really happened on 9/11. If we can spread the word, and eventually bring the real criminals to justice, those who suffered and perished in the 9/11 hellfire will not have died vain; the world will be a better place; and the 9/11 restless spirits will finally be able to rest in peace.
Thanks for reading.
- reading up on the 9/11 truth movement, see http://www.truthmove.org/content/9-11-truth/
- watching the internet movie 911 Mysteries Part 1: Demolitions, available free at http://www.911weknow.com/911-mysteries-movie.html
- hearing what supporters of the 9/11 firefighters have to say at http://firefightersfor911truth.org/ and http://therealrudy.org/ .
My employer’s office had been located in the West Village since the summer of 2000, and we were there on that indescribably horrible day in the late summer of 2001—September 11, 2001 to be precise—or “9/11” as it has come to be known. Altho the office was only about a mile and a half due north of the Twin Towers, it was still worlds away. Indeed, despite the surreal horror surrounding us on that terrible day, we were able to escape without very much ado—unlike the estimated 2,600 innocent people who were in fact trapped and killed at the World Trade Center.
Like so many others who to some extent experienced 9/11, my co-workers and I had readjust to life in Manhattan following that monstrous attack. Eventually, we did. By the summer of 2008, we hardly even spoke of 9/11 anymore. Of course it was (and still is) very difficult and heart-wrenching to look up in the direction of the World Trade Center and NOT see the Twin Towers standing, but not much was (or is) actually spoken about it.
In the spring of 2008, following a business merger between my employer and another company, the new corporate structure announced that we would be leaving the West Village and moving downtown to the financial district—one short block from Ground Zero. I was shattered. Gone would be the free parking in the residential West Village—which meant no more driving to work, and thus no freedom after work to drive to dancing venues, Broadway theaters, or uptown restaurants. And no more topless summer sunbathing at lunchtime on the relatively private south side of Pier 40. For it soon would be time to return—via the dreaded subway—to the Wall Street area rat race I had endured during the early days of my working career so many years before.
When we actually made the move in August 2008, it wasn’t as bad as I feared—it was exponentially worse. Every time I stepped off the subway at Rector Street and walked by Ground Zero to get to my office, I would become very depressed. It felt like part of my soul was gone. In shamanic terms I was experiencing “soul loss,” of which depression is a very real symptom. It wasn’t just the madhouse environment, or the hawkers peddling photos of the 9/11 tragedy, or even the sight of Ground Zero itself bringing back memories of that tragic day. No, there was something more, and I was at a loss to explain it.
One day while I was walking despondently around the World Trade Center area, I telepathically called out to my spirit guides and spirit helpers and asked (as if they were to blame), “Why the fuck do you have me in this godforsaken place? It’s killing me!” They replied, clearly and matter-of-factly, “We need your energy here.”
“Now what the hell is that supposed to mean?” I wondered. I asked my spirits in less politically incorrect terms, but received no explanation. And so it was up to me to figure out.
All I could think of at the time was NOT getting caught up in the mindless rat race that IS lower Manhattan, and refusing to sink to the level of rudeness and borderline inhumanity prevailing on the subways and in the streets. Instead, I made it a point to be overly courteous, e.g., allowing people to step in front of me when we would otherwise be competing for a spot in the asphalt jungle, and being respectful and polite to those with whom I came in contact. It was funny…at times I would stop to let someone cross the street in front of me and cause a pedestrian pileup because no one was expecting such a basic courtesy. But despite the moments of levity, when I got right down to it, life around Ground Zero was eating me up.
Then came the commemoration activities on Thursday September 11, 2008. Intersections were blocked off to traffic and the streets were flooded with more police officers than I have ever seen at one time. Thousands of people paraded in and around the area, but I avoided most of it. However, I did make it a point to walk passed Ground Zero once, to pay my respects. Later, a friend of mine at work, Dave—thru whom I have gotten messages from Spirit before—mentioned that at the commemoration he had seen a sizeable number of “9/11 truth movement protesters.” Just hearing that report from Dave jolted me, but at the time, I didn’t know why.
On the day following the 9/11 commemoration and I was planning to go to the New York Shamanic Circle (see http://www.newyorkshamaniccirlce.org/), which I have attended regularly (on the second Friday of each calendar month) since March 2001. This was to be the first circle I’d go to since my employer had moved our offices to the World Trade Center area. I used to be able to walk to the circle from the West Village worksite, but walking there from Ground Zero would be a bit of a trek, and not comfortably doable in the hard rain being forecast. So, as a treat to myself, I drove to work and paid $25 to park (including $2 tip), just so I’d have my car to drive to the circle and home afterward.
All day long I was getting “fives” (e.g., 555) popping up on license plates and elsewhere, indicating that positive and enjoyable experiences were immediately ahead (“5” is my “magic number”), even though there was indeed a hard and steady rain falling, as the weatherman had predicted.
Immediately after work, I attended a party in a local bar celebrating a co-worker’s promotion. I could only stay a short while before heading over to get my car. I walked toward the parking garage with another co-worker friend who had read my book “Into the Mystic…” some months before. He gave me a lot of positive and unexpected feedback about the book, making it a fun walk despite the rain.
On the ride to the Village, I didn’t know what to expect parking-wise, but as fate would have it, I got a legal spot right in front of 219 Sullivan Street, the building where the New York Shamanic Circle meets each month.
Visiting the circle itself that night was an Ecuadorian medicine woman named “Susana.” I’d been to one other circle with her before, and it is so great having her there, for she has such marvelous energy.
Olivia, a relatively new core-circle member, did the “calling in of the spirits” in what she described as “the Peruvian tradition,” which involved a series of unique words chanted to each of the five directions (East, South, West, North, and Above; but not to the lower or center worlds).
After the other opening rituals, the first journey of the evening was essentially to “Visit with your power animal,” which presented an opportunity for me to reconnect with “Buck,” my own power animal. I had not encountered Buck in my journeys for some time.
As the drumming brought us to an expanded state of awareness, I began to vision. Things started off very dark (due in part to the super blindfold I was wearing). My maternal grandparents’ house on the way to my “Sacred Garden” was very faint. It seemed to be fading away. I thought that this was because I had finished my business there with the soul retrieval/lineage healing I had done for my grandfather at a Hank Wesselman workshop four months before, and that my grandparents had moved on. I wondered whether the house would be totally gone from my middle world of dream visions in the future.
Buck greeted me as I entered my Sacred Garden. I took to lying down with my neck against the long tree trunk log that is a prominent feature in my Garden (reflecting how I was positioned in the drum circle, using my rolled up towel behind my neck as a support pillow). Buck shape-shifted into a miniature version of himself. I brought him to me with my cupped hands and held him to my heart. Then he shape-shifted again, this time into a bigger-than-life deer. I stood up and hugged him around the neck, receiving and returning real Love in the process.
Spontaneously Buck led me away from my Sacred Garden and into a hell realm. Many souls were trapped there, suffering. Buck told me (telepathically) what my job was: “Show them the way out,” which was a “psychopomp” directive. (Note: psychopomp work involves finding lost souls in the middle world of dream and helping them get to where they are supposed to be (not “The Light,” necessarily). Psychopomp work can also involve helping people transition from life to the afterlife.)
In response to Buck’s directive, I formed my right hand in the shape of a gun, pointed my trigger finger toward one of the walls and simply thought to blast thru. Laser-like energy shot out of my finger and the wall started to blow apart. I repeated the assault on another wall, feeling like a superhero among mortals. Then I told the hell-realm souls that they too could blast thru the walls simply by intending to do so, and willing it to be. They mimicked my efforts and were also successful. From our blasts of energy, the walls started to crumble. Despair was turning to joy as the open Universe came into view, and the souls were being set free—just as the callback drumming at 219 Sullivan Street was signaling an end to the journey. The vision faded as I shifted my consciousness back to the room.
As usual, following the journey there was time to take notes on what we experienced and for some people (not I this time) to share what had happened with the rest of the circle. After that, Susana announced the second journey. In the main, we were directed to journey on “What are your gifts?”
The gift that came to me was “compassion.” I have never really thought of myself as much of a compassionate person, but later asked family and friends if they thought I was and they said yes. Somewhere along the line came the suggestion that I be more compassionate with myself. I took the message to heart.
Journey 3 was the kicker. Joey announced that the journey was “In honor of 9/11.” He noted that seven years had passed since September 11, 2001 and that in shamanism, there are seven-year cycles. He said it was “a time to release grief.”
Then Joey announced that the third journey was to be in two parts. Part 3A—if we would be comfortable doing so—was to “Stand like a tree and do psychopomp work.” This thoroughly amazed me since I had already done psychopomp work in the first journey when Buck my power animal led me into the hell realm to destroy it and set free the souls imprisoned there. Part 3B was to “Be a lightworker with regard to 9/11,” or as Susana put it, “Become an urban shaman.”
Once we started to actually journey, I was immediately being asked by unidentified but benevolent-feeling spirits to allow their energy to flow through me while I was in the World Trade Center area. “It’s quite easy, really,” I was told. All I had to do was grant them the permission to do so and it would be done automatically. Feeling that this was a natural fit for me, I agreed.
Later, I shared this and the earlier psychopomp journey with the rest of the circle and was rewarded with a number of “Oooos! and Wows!” from circle members. After we wrapped up the circle for the night, Susana came to me and said, “Thank you for sharing that. It was very important that you shared that.” I was honored!
Alone afterward, I had some pizza and wine at one of my favorite eateries, The Pizza Box on Bleeker Street. I hadn’t been there in some time and the manager recognized me from years before when my daughter Kristen and I used to eat their regularly, during her undergraduate days at NYU. Felt great—more of the good day and night foretold by all the fives I had been getting throughout that Friday.
Saturday was a kind of late summer beach day with enough hazy sunshine to improve upon my fading tan. I decided to bike it to Rockaway and got there at 11:07 real time. NO ONE was on the beach—just the way I like it! I ambled over toward the shore where a recently-formed sand bluff overlooking the Atlantic Ocean awaited me. By then, the sun was shining stronger. For over an hour I had the whole beach to myself before people started showing up. What a great morning! I felt in retrospect that I was being rewarded for agreeing to allow spirit energy to flow thru me while I was in the Ground Zero area.
Sunday morning’s happenings I was not ready for. While I was in the shower (where I’ve experienced spontaneous mystical events before), a group of "9/11 restless spirits"—accompanied by a silently observing John Lennon—came to me and telepathically asked that I—in addition to allowing spirit energy to flow thru me while I was around Ground Zero—do a little more. Specifically I was to research what really happened on 9/11 and spread the word wherever I thought the word might be well received. I agreed.
A couple of nights later I woke up alone in my bed around three in the morning, totally energized and absolutely driven to do some 9/11 research. I jumped on the computer and in just two short hours had an idea as to what the 9/11 truth movement was about--a search for truth about what really happened on 9/11. It was obvious from my manic research that many people had been on the 9/11 truth-finding mission for some time, and they were sharing a wealth of information for all to read thru the miracle of the worldwide web.
The next day I began emailing 9/11 truth information and relevant website links to family and friends with whom I felt the messages might resonate. That first effort has been the heart of what I’ve done so far, but I continue to send out emails and speak up about the 9/11 truth movement when opportunities arise, like here.
And guess what? After having done all this in earnest, that horrible feeling I got whenever I entered the World Trade Center area is gone—totally. And the depression has lifted. In shamanic terms, my soul part has returned. I still miss working in the West Village, but being around Ground Zero no longer turns me into a despondent mess. In fact, I don’t mind being down there that much at all. An example of Instant Karma, methinks, for doing what I had promised the restless 9/11 spirits I would do.
I hope that recounting my 9/11 experiences here provides you with some benefit and perhaps an education as well. Please consider looking into what really happened on 9/11, via the links above and/or in your own way. Most importantly, EXAMINE THE EVIDENCE OBJECTIVELY. And then, if you agree that people should be made aware, pass along the information to others who may be receptive to and support the idea that we need an objective investigation into what really happened on 9/11. If we can spread the word, and eventually bring the real criminals to justice, those who suffered and perished in the 9/11 hellfire will not have died vain; the world will be a better place; and the 9/11 restless spirits will finally be able to rest in peace.
Thanks for reading.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
WELCOME!!!!!
After writing Into the Mystic (From the Streets of Brooklyn), I thought it would be a good idea to set up a blog to record periodic thoughts and experiences touching on "the Mystic" -- that expanded state of awareness where we can connect with Spirit and experience other realities. This blog is designed to do just that, as a place to share mystical thoughts and experiences. Your input is welcome! My website is www.journeyintothemystic.com .
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