Tuesday, October 9, 2012

I Call Your Name

Introduction. I originally posted this story in 2008, after mentioning in an earlier piece that John Lennon had appeared to me in a vision along with the “9/11 restless spirits” who were guiding me to investigate and disseminate information about what really happened on 9/11. But after being ridiculed unmercifully for my spiritual beliefs—and especially this piece—on a 9/11 Truth site (where I had made the mistake of openly revealing my spiritual bent), I deleted this story. Lately, however, I’ve been feeling like I wanted to re-post it and am doing so today, on John Lennon’s 72nd birthday.

* * *

Except as a distant fan, I never knew John Lennon during his 40 years of life which tragically ended on December 8, 1980. So it struck me as quite odd that one day out of the blue, as I’ve written in my book Into the Mystic (From the Streets of Brooklyn), John seemed to pop in on me during a past life regression I was undergoing with “Dawn,” saying that past life regressions were “the next big thing.” Since the entity in that vision didn’t really look like John, I had to wonder if indeed it was. There were validating factors, to be sure—John had reportedly used the phrase “the next big thing” often enough, the regression itself was being held just a half block from the Dakota where John had lived and died, and it certainly hit me that the entity was John—but I still had serious doubts.

Over the years, there had been very credible accounts indicating that John Lennon was an active DP (dead person). The most provocative story involved 1950’s country rock icon Carl Perkins (most famous for writing, and topping the charts with, Blue Suede Shoes) whom John apparently used to channel the song My Old Friend and simultaneously get a message across to Paul McCartney. Medium John Edward discusses this event in his book Crossing Over (page 151). Then in 2007, it was reported that John’s son Julian had received a visit from his famous dad.

Both the Carl Perkins and Julian Lennon stories have an air of authenticity about them. Each event involved people whom John knew and loved in life, and so his visiting them was quite understandable, via that love connection. In contrast, I could not be sure that it was indeed John coming to me during my own past life regression; or later when images of his (a photograph in a drugstore near the Dakota, and still later on his cover of the The John Lennon Collection CD) seemed to come alive with his spirit and energy. Yes, it seemed like John Lennon was visiting me, but “Why? Why me? Who am I?” And “How can I be sure it’s him, and not some impostor spirit?”

On the web, I came across a group of individuals who also felt that that they were having visits and connections with “JL,” as he was often referred to. We’d share our stories about contact with John but most of those accounts—including my own—did not resonate as being particularly authentic in any objective sense. As medium John Holland alludes to in his book Born Knowing (in the context of mediumship), figuring out “what’s spirit and what’s coming from your own mind” can be problematic (see page 64). Also, accounts by members of the JL spirit group (again myself included) lacked the kind of resonance and validation present in the Carl Perkins and Julian Lennon stories. With regard to my own experiences in particular, I could not get away from the fact that, unlike with visits from my own DP family members whose energy and essence I can and do recognize, the JL encounters could not be verified in that way, since I never knew Mr. Lennon in this life.

I did take heart that among all the many ostensible JL visits being discussed on the web, there was one (in addition to the Carl Perkins and Julian Lennon reports) involving medium Patti Sinclair that resonated as quite valid.  Unbeknownst to her, on a live Internet radio show (the link for which has become disabled), Patti was reading a woman, Cindy, who felt strongly that she previously had made contact with JL on her own. During the show, John came thru Patti who was initially unaware that it was John, tho her description of him (and George Harrison who also was paying a visit) were right on.  Since Patti had no prior knowledge of Cindy’s connections to JL before the show, the reading took on a high sense of validation. Later Cindy and I would get to know each other on the web as part of a John Lennon spirit group.

Meanwhile—and this is where it really gets embarrassing to admit—it was seeming to me that John Lennon was helping me find parking spaces in the West Village, where I was working at the time. It sounds trite, I know, that any highly developed spirit (which I assume John Lennon would be) would bother doing that, but there was no doubt that I would often get parking spots in the area in and around 105 Bank Street, where John had lived during his revolutionary years, before moving to the Dakota. I have no doubt that I was being guided there by some spiritual force, and my best take was that it was either JL or an impostor spirit. In any event, I was very happy to be finding parking spots whenever they became available, since I was saving a bunch of money at the nearby but expensive parking garages.

During our web conversations, Cindy encouraged me to attend a show in New York City involving a professional medium who boasts that he often connects with John Lennon’s spirit. Altho a number of spiritually minded people I respect had a high regard for the medium’s alleged abilities, I did not. This negative assessment was later borne out by the medium’s own extremely weak readings during the show (which I witnessed).  But…the point is that on the day that I was on my way to check out this medium with the supposed JL connection, something extraordinary happened.

I drove into the city from Brooklyn that day—in my brand new silver Toyota Prius—in order to get in a half day’s work before attending the medium’s matinee show. Along the way, I got a “55” license plate with a “DLY” that I interpreted (in accordance with the principles written about in the “Magic Numbers (and Letters)” chapter of Into the Mystic) as meaning that I (represented by the 55) would be delayed (DLY came across as “delayed”). Soon thereafter, there was an unexpected traffic delay on the Prospect Expressway. “Hmmmm,” I thought to myself. “Maybe I’m on today.”

When I was driving along Sixth Ave in Manhattan, my plan was to go right to a parking garage, because I thought that looking for a parking space would be futile given the time of day. But I felt a last minute impulse to make a left turn onto Bedford Street and check in the West Village for a spot. Nothing. Then I thought, “Let me head over toward Bank Street and see what happens.”

While passing by JL’s old haunt at 105 Bank Street, I saw a spot that was too good to be true on the northeast corner of Bank and Greenwich Streets. I figured for sure that someone would beat me to it, but no one did, and I pulled in easily. I sensed the spirit that I tentatively identified as JL around me at this time but did not want to give in to the idea that he was indeed guiding me that morning. Again, it seemed too trite. And who the hell am I anyway?

The spot was so big that I started being particular about how to fit the Prius within it. I angled here and there and put the transmission in “Park” to get out and check how the car was positioned. At least I thought I had put the car in Park. In a Prius, you have to press the “P” button and apparently I hadn’t pressed it, or maybe it hadn’t engaged for some reason, I really don’t know.

Unaware that the Prius is not in Park, I exit from the driver’s seat and step out onto the sidewalk. Suddenly, the Prius starts rolling forward toward the car parked a few feet in front, while the open door begins scraping on the brick perimeter of a raised flower bed and simultaneously closing as a result. This has disaster written all over it. I somehow manage to jump into the car while yelling out loud in a panic, “Johnny!” thinking and intending in that split second, “Help me, John! You led me to this parking spot and can’t let it turn into a disaster.” I hit the brake and stop the car just before it’s about to crash. I take a breath and get out to check the damage which I figure has to be bad. But it turns out that there is only a tiny blemish on the very bottom of the door that is hardly perceptible. Phew! VERY LUCKY! Or was it something else?

A key element with all this is that at that moment of crisis, I called out to John Lennon thinking he could help. I didn’t beseech God, or Jesus, or anyone else. Instead, I called John’s name, revealing to me that somewhere in my heart of hearts I felt that John was around me, or at least was there that morning, and that maybe there actually was something to all the JL spirit connections that I had been doubting from a logical perspective. In essence, what this experience indicated to me was that beneath my conscious logical side, somewhere deep, I did believe that John Lennon was helping me find parking spaces in the West Village. Why else would I have called out his name at that critical moment? Even for my own challenging and confrontational consciousness, this experience was a bit too much to brush off.

Still, I sought out the honest opinion of others who might be able to shed some light. I wrote to Jewelle St. James, whom I had gotten to know on the web. Jewelle, who lives in Canada, is the author of All You Need Is Love, a book for which I have enormous respect, especially given all the provable steps Jewelle took to explain the true story of her search to discover her past life with John Lennon. When I related the Prius parking story to Jewelle, she wrote back saying, “Dennis, I am so amazed I can hardly write this email fast enough....About 3 hours ago, after our last emails, I asked John for a sign to give you, if indeed, he is guiding you around NYC. An hour later, I felt silly for asking as all was quiet. I then had to return to work for a bit and as I was driving I thought, what did I expect, a big sign that said Dennis or something?! Once I got to work I forgot about it. Just now, I came home and walked across the parking lot and there was a dime --- a U.S. dime!! I examined it and noticed it says ‘one dime.’ Canadian dimes say ‘ten cents.’ Well if that's not a sign, I don't know what is. I get dimes (as you know) so for John to send an American dime ... what else can I say? BTW I never see U.S. coins --- this indeed is a special treat for you Dennis. I have no doubts. Incredible.”

I wrote back to Jewelle, “WOW! THANKS SO MUCH for thinking of me, jewelle, and asking john for a sign, and getting one! and letting me know. i am so honored. 55 is my magic number and dime = 10 = 5+5. so this is all very validating, coming from you.”

A series of exchanges between Jewelle and me followed. Jewelle wrote back, “I had the presence of mind to look at the time too, it was 5:30 PST (how yahoo clocks msgs). This is truly amazing Dennis, a gift for both of us really, a sign on many levels.” And I replied again, “another one! 5:30 = 5.5 (as :30 min is halfway (.5) past 5. too cool!”

Jewelle said, “Just thought of something else --- the U.S. dime was found in a parking lot ... a place where you park cars -- a little twist of humor there, perhaps ?!” To which I replied, “amazing!...usually my spirit helpers know that they have to get things thru to me [in bunches] on a number of levels, or i won't trust it, doubting thomas that i can be at times. so looks like jl is up on my resistance/thick-headedness. ;-)”

Finally, Jewell added, “I was thinking too --- you are a guy that John would like. Your spirit helpers must approve, to let these amazing messages come through. Enjoy this new realization Dennis! yes, and one more. as i opened this last msg, on my itunes shuffle came john singing ‘You Can’t Do That.’… I KNOW how John works, and that day was a definite no-brainer --- John was saying he's with you.”

I also checked in with my Internet friend Cindy to whom JL had apparently come thru during the Patty Sinclair reading. Cindy averred, “I would not be surprised that John would assist you in getting good parking spots. :) After all, he was living in that city too so he would understand your frustrations driving around in a busy environment like that and help you get a desired spot to park your car. I did think it rather interesting that you called out ‘Johnny’ of all names lol! I am sure you were in tuned with him and he with you.

“I am positive that John knew you had been having some questions and possible doubts about his coming through to so many people and if there were ‘impostor’ souls coming through as John. Perhaps he was letting you know that ALL people are welcome to hear him and he will lend a hand..... no person more special than the next. That you are just as valuable a friend to him as he is to the rest of those who communicate with him in their own way. .....Can't believe you about your car! OMG! you almost had a crunch scene there! How funny about the park button! I am glad it did not turn ugly because you would have been cursing me out for even suggesting you go to that show! lol!”

My friend Jess Steinman, a medium, tarot reader and teacher, had this to say: “So, I finally had the chance to read your story and really absorb what you wrote . . . I read it really quickly on Tuesday night after you sent it, but I wanted to read it over again and respond when I had the time to give it the attention it deserved. All I can say is, what an amazing story . . . thank you for sharing it! I love how in that moment of “crisis”, so to speak, you called out to John. It’s those moments – the “spontaneous” ones – when our intuition and soul speaks to our conscious mind and lets us know what’s really going on, or so I believe! I think you had, at that point, what I’ve now “coined” as a “SMOC” – Spontaneous Moment of Connection. ;) I wonder, though . . . you said, ‘and none of it would have happened had i not been going to [that mediumship] event this morning. so maybe that was why i was to be there.’ I really do wonder if the same or a similar experience would have happened anyway? Maybe not in the exact same time or way that it did, but I still believe it would have happened eventually. I think that with pivotal moments like that one – where our perceptions are changed or a major decision needs to be made – it’s more a matter of WHEN it will happen versus IF it will happen.”

Finally, I asked my medium friend Suzane Northrop about all this, explaining to her that even if it was JL coming to me from time to time, I did not want to get too into connecting with him because, as I had observed, so many of the JL spirit people I met on the web seemed WAY TOO INVOLVED with the entity (entities?) they were perceiving to be JL. Suzane said, “smart not to get too involved with one spirit. what does it matter who it was, as long as you and your new car were ok.”

Yes indeed, that was important!

After receiving everyone’s input, I could finally trust with a passable degree of certainty (maybe 65%) that JL had been connecting with me all along. Which begs the question: why me?

Well maybe in the end just to let us know that the spirit of John Lennon supports the 9/11 Truth movement. Given John’s political side, it would not be a stretch at all to think that he would back efforts to get people to look into what really happened on 9/11.  Please consider doing so, and helping spread the word about 9/11 Truth.

Thanks for reading.

1 comment:

Dennis P. McMahon said...

It's Friday, May 17, 2013, and I'm leaving work early, around 5PM, to participate in a Pubs (company) coed softball game in Chelsea. As I get in my Prius at the garage across from 55 Fulton Street, a couple of blocks west of the South Street Seaport, I'm worried what traffic will be like by the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel where they have narrowed the road that leads to West Street from two lanes to one. And it is Friday after all.  But I've allowed myself plenty of time. 

As I approach the tunnel area, the traffic is not as bad as it has been lately. I meander thru without much difficulty and am driving by the back end of the World Trade Center.  I become mildly concerned that I will arrive at the Chelsea Fields neighborhood way too early, and have to wait out a legal parking spot at 6PM; but the feeling doesn't last long. 

Suddenly, as we approach Canal Street, traffic becomes an impregnable nightmare. It takes about four light-changes to go one block. Walking speed. I hang in there for about twenty minutes hoping traffic will clear, but as we inch our way into Soho, I can see that there is no sign of a break. I decide that if I happen upon a highly-unlikely parking space, I will take it, and walk from there over to Chelsea, calculating that that will give me plenty of time to get to the field before the game starts.

As I and the rest of the gasoline-consuming multitudes approach Bank Street, just two blocks away from John Lennon's pre-Dakota apartment in the West Village, I see a guy taking the car keys out of his pocket and get in his Mini. It appears that he may be pulling out, but he is taking his time. I tap the horn. He looks into his left fender mirror thru which we make eye contact. I raise my right hand and with my index finger point forward, mouthing, "You going out?" He nods yes. I pull over as far right as I can, open my window and signal to the guy behind me to stay back, so I can get in the soon to be vacated spot. There is not enough room for the guy in back to pass me and give me room to park. I need him to be polite. He obliges! (Contrary to popular belief, there are actually one or two courteous drivers in Manhattan.)

The guy in the Mini pulls out of the parking spot, one car beyond the north corner of West and Bank Streets. I start to angle in. As I do, in my car on Sirius 60's radio comes John Lennon, Paul McCartney, and George Harrison signing "Help! I need somebody. Help! Not just anybody. Help! You know I need someone. Helllllllllp!..."

The guy behind me now has enough room to pass, and does so. I wave "Thank you" out the window, and begin my front-end-in-first parking maneuvers. A smile comes across my face. I telepathically send out a message to who or what ever it was that helped me find this valuable parking spot: "Is that you, John? If so, thank you. If someone or something else, thank YOU!"

I finish parking and get out of my car, contemplating a walking route to the Chelsea Fields at 9th Ave and 28th Street. No way I can not go by 105 Bank Street, John's old haunt. And I do. Smiling.

Twenty-five minutes later, I arrive at Chelsea Field #2, and most of my teammates are there already. I tell my good friend Dave, the coach of the Pubs, the story above. He smiles with joy, "How cool!"