Thoughts on travels beyond spacetime

Logo representing spacetime.

That last post I wrote (or half-wrote; I had help) seems to have caused more than a little brain-ache for many of the brave souls who battled their way through to the end.  I’m not at all surprised, given that I’d been struggling with the ideas contained in it for some years beforehand.

That’s why I decided to see if I could make the main idea raised in it slightly clearer.

Putting aside for now the weird and unusual way that I am able to communicate telepathically with a friend in London, without his conscious knowledge, we are left with the information this higher dimensional aspect of him is able to share.

Will has autistic spectrum perception.  His diagnoses have included semantic-pragmatic disorder and Aspergers.  Diagnoses don’t interest me in the least, but I’m fascinated by the difference in the way people with ASP (P not D, as I see it as a different form of Perception, not a Disorder) access knowledge from the Cosmos/ Universal Spirit/ God Self  – or whatever you prefer to call it .

Русский: Эзотерика

In our metaphysical ramblings, Will has explained it to me this way:  All of us have higher aspects of ourselves, sometimes called subtle bodies.  In most neuro-typical people, our links to these dimensions are via the etheric body – an energy field that is measurable and even visible to some.  It acts, he tells me, the way the sat-nav in your car does – picking up messages from ‘above’ to guide us through our daily lives.

For individuals with ASP, the connection is different.
‘THE CONNECTIONS BETWEEN THE BODIES GO FAR DEEPER BUT CAN PULL APART,’  he explains, with typical understatement.  There, in a nutshell, we have the apparently positive and negative aspects of the autistic state – an ability to tap directly into higher dimensions of the Self and an equal ability to disconnect from aspects of themselves which can leave carers and friends baffled and concerned.

While he was in his teens, Will and I spent many happy hours together, discussing the kind of issues we now chat about via my pendulum.  Many aspects of his knowledge amazed me, especially when he  explained subjects I was reading about in information channelled from higher dimensional beings – the Seth Material and Conversations with God, for example.

He also confided that at times he found himself experiencing parallel lives – ones in which he and some other parts of his experience were the same, but subtle or sometimes greater differences were evident.  As this was involuntary, the poor lad became intensely anxious and nervous, stuck as he was in an Alice in Wonderland world where nothing could be relied on to stay the same.  I wonder if Lewis Carroll had similar experiences…

 

The compact disc

These ‘other lives’ have troubled and fascinated me ever since.   The closest I came to a rational explanation was a passage in Conversations with God, in which physical life is compared to a CD rom, containing every possible outcome for every possible choice we make.

Let’s assume for a moment that this cosmic CD exists (akashic records, perhaps?) in some realm beyond space and time.  While we are in our skin-suits – being human beings – we normally select one ‘track’ from the CD rom at a time.  As Will pointed out in my previous post, each time we make a choice, our personal time line changes. We jump to a new track.  It was this aspect of infinite pre-destiny/choice that prompted me to use the analogy of a video game in my book LIFE: A Player’s Guide.

So not only do I have ‘past’ and ‘future’ lives (the quotation marks are there to remind me that time only exists as an aid to sequential cause and effect in our 3D existence) but each of my lives – including the present incarnation – has an infinite range of options.  That’s where the Law of Attraction fits in, I suppose.  We can select which of the myriad lives we wish to put our consciousness into – miracles included.

The next part of Will’s master-class explained how the personality or essence of oneself permeates each of those lives and – this is huge – how what we do in one life has an effect on every other life: past, future, probable or possible.  That, though, will have to wait for another post.

 

 

And meanwhile, here’s me, getting the cold shoulder

Cold Shoulder

Cold Shoulder (Photo credit: smkybear)

I’m not sleeping.

Well, I say that.  Obviously some sleep goes on.  I’d estimate 2-3 hours a night – 4 on a really good one.  That isn’t deep, refreshing, all-at-once sleep, though.  I doze off for 40 minutes or so and then there’s the painful awakening.  I writhe and twist, gyre and gimble (Lewis Carroll, Jabberwocky – I’m a massive fan) and vainly attempt to get some relief from the pains that are shooting down my back, my arm and up into my neck and head.

Eventually I get up and wander off to the bathroom or pace around the house for a while, before collapsing back on to the bed and waiting for the discomfort to return to a sleep-throughable level.  That can take hours; it usually does.

I have, I’m told, a ‘frozen shoulder‘.  It’s the most ridiculous ailment; even the doctor admitted as much.  The information sheet he gave me reads like something Lewis Carroll himself might have penned.  For reasons no one can discern, the shoulder becomes increasingly painful and stiff over a period of months.  This is, apparently, the ‘Freezing Stage’.  Seriously.

Mobility may be affected, it says.  My shoulder has definite and ever-expanding no-go areas.  They include behind and up.  Stray into them by mistake and the pain starts small and takes up to five minutes to develop a vice-like intensity that has me gasping for breath.

The pain is frequently worse at night, it says.  Hell, yeah.  As described above.

So what do I have to look forward to?  Apparently next comes the ‘Frozen Stage’.  I can expect less pain but the same level of stiffness and lack of movement.  That, it tells me, will typically last between 18 months and 3 years.  After that – you’ve guessed it – there is a ‘Thawing Stage’.  A year or two more for it to subside and disappear as quietly as it arrived and I will be back to normal.  Physiotherapy and painkillers are offered, more to placate the GP’s feelings of helplessness than to make any difference to the condition, he agreed.

I’ve already tried deep tissue massage and acupuncture, to no avail.  Since there’s no medical reason, and since I tend towards the Louise Hay view of dis-ease in any case, I opted for some Reiki.

Now this is where it gets seriously weird.

Reiki symbol1

I went to a Reiki practitioner I’d only met a week or two before.  She knew very little about me and I knew very little about Reiki.  I sat for a long time listening to pleasant music while the healing took place.

When she’d finished, she came to sit with me, looking rather shocked and puzzled.

“I saw a face,” she told me.  “He was right here.”  She motioned the front of my shoulder.  “He was looking straight at me.”

Like I say, this lady didn’t know me well, or any of the people in my life.  I asked her if she could describe the person she’d seen.  As she did so, I started to realise who it was.

I went to fetch a photo.  “Is this the person you saw?”

She gasped and nodded.  “The hair was a bit different, but that was exactly the face.”

Well that made sense.  The photo is about five years old.  It’s of someone who has played a huge part in my life; someone I helped, mentored and loved for many years.  And then, little by little, he moved out of my life and stopped responding to letters, calls and emails.  He’s given me, you could say, the cold shoulder…

Hmmm.

Of course, as I’ve said many times before in my blog, I don’t believe others cause us pain.  I believe we allow ourselves to feel pain in response to the way they act.  My Guide explained it to me in this way:

What if I stick a knife in someone.  Surely then I will hurt that person – cause their pain?
NO  YOU CAUSE THE CUT
And what causes the pain?
THE CUT GIVES THE PERSON THE CHANCE TO CAUSE PAIN TO THEMSELVES

Fortunately, my Reiki healer had another strategy for me.  She told me to smile into my body – giving a smile of love and gratitude to each part of my body in turn – and to linger on that shoulder, giving it extra love.

English: Smile

Oh how right she is!   I don’t intend to wait years for my shoulder to thaw.  I’ll see if that smile, and any others I can collect, can defrost it.

All smiles gratefully received 🙂