Sunday, November 22, 2015

Can We Rise Out of Our Grief?

Can we outgrow our grief? Or asked in another way, can we rise out of our grief? Certain aspects of grief may stay with us for the rest of our life, changing only in quantity and quality—hopefully in diminished ways. Finding temporary comfort is one thing; but can grief from bereavements—especially the major ones—be forever healed? This and many other questions will be explored from different perspectives, as informed by my own personal bereavement and mediumistic experiences. 
Rather than outgrow our grief, can we rise out of our grief?

These personal experiences have led me to a particular understanding that grief is a form of energy that I can consciously feel and so can also be consciously transformed—or evolved—into new and higher-vibrating feelings of spiritual evolution, which could also be called “rising.” The Risen with whom I interact offer their own particular definition of “rising,” which I discern as “transmutation”—a clumsy word that seems to make them slightly grimace but also smile that it will do for now. They most ardently do agree with my declaration that we must consciously allow the grief to be felt so it can unfold and rise to the next higher vibration of feeling, which could eventually reach the vibration of a Risen Loved One, and may allow us to connect with them in some way—if that is what we truly want. I must add that sometimes we may not want to connect with certain people, and this is important to have an understanding about as well, as guided by our feelings. This last idea is also acceptably adequate to the Risen, and so there is a chapter on that subject.
We must consciously allow the grief to be felt so it can unfold and rise to the next higher vibration of feeling that will eventually reach the vibration of the Risen Loved One.

The extraordinary yet crucial aspect about this earthly unfolding is that the transformation does not happen as a matter of course, as in the way Nature moves from one season to the next. Nature transitions without any conscious awareness, but the higher transformation of grief doesn’t happen naturally. Human grief can only transform supranaturally—above and beyond Nature. Nature does not choose this kind of transformation for us and so we must choose it for ourselves. If we don’t make this choice and follow through with it, we’ll have only journeyed in a self-repeating circle—and not necessarily even completely. This might very well be one of the uncomfortable, counter-intuitive ideas cautioned about earlier.

[Excerpted from A Risen Companion to Grief (in press)]

Thursday, November 19, 2015

Choosing Correctly

"Hope fearfully chooses unknowing; faith authoritatively chooses knowing; knowing chooses anything correctly."

[From "A Risen Companion to Grief" (in press)]

Wednesday, November 18, 2015


"Awareness of one’s immortality will lift the mind above and beyond the chaos of mankind."

[From "A Risen Companion to Grief" (in press.)]

Sunday, November 01, 2015

Le Voci Dei Risorti


The newest Italian translation of some material from The Risen. (In English, too.)

Thursday, October 22, 2015

Le Cavallette

(click to enlarge)

Le Cavallette
October 2015 ~ I wandered through the massive stones of bottomless antiquity at a high point in the Monte Sette Fratelli, on the island of Sardinia. Finally I felt drawn to sit on a smaller stone, while surrounded by others who seemed to want to protect me from the outside world. Exhilarated from the climb, and also tired and drained from the week’s mediumship work, I sought solitude, solace and especially rest and energization of the spirit through a deep connection with the Earth. I visualize a small, glowing pearl that grows from my inner eye—from the pineal gland—and send it traveling down my spine, into the earth, deeper, deeper, deeper, letting it be drawn by its own intelligence to the most ancient of energy forces that rest far below, and then connect with those forces. I usually see these forces as the most intense of the blue spectrum, and as soon as the pearl sinks and merges into them it returns back to me, drawing an oceanic blueness up into my spine, circulating the energy throughout my body, nourishing me and dissolving any and all world-weariness. I can smell the earthiest of smells. Soon there is a direct channel between me and the deep earth, a pipeline of adoration that flows up and down, spiraling through my body, exchanging my spiritual chromosomes with those of Earth. I can also direct this open channel to the stars above, through which the pearl will travel until it finds a resonant light that will respond and flow back down into the earth, using my physical body as the nexus. Today I sat with my two Guardians, beings of the Ao Sí, who have been with me since birth and are of the higher orders of nature spirits. They are far wiser, kinder and more intelligent than I, and yet have always served me without grievance, honoring me as a trusted companion who can do no wrong. As always, they easily journeyed with me as I let myself be drawn into the quickening depths of inner self.
My pearl was drawn to a shade of blue light unknown to me, and I was very amazed to realize that it was actually being held and caressed by a creature of alien intelligence, a nature spirit, an elemental in essence, surrounded by others of its kind, all fascinated by their find; curiosity and surprise emanated from them in waves, which at first gave them no sensation of me other than a kind of gentle pressure as they gently stroked and cuddled my pearl. It seemed as if their awareness of me came after my Guardians made their presence known, which perhaps shocked them, because they gave off bursts of blue-gold sparks, which then quickly lowered to what I might describe as an aura of awe. Their surprise them grew again when they felt my greeting of peace;. While my Guardians drifted in silence, I communed with these beings for what turned out to be almost more than hour for me, but seemed like only a few minutes.
Following is what I was able to learn about them, which was not achieved through direct conversation such as you and I might have, but through lights, sounds and echoes of sounds, pressures and vibrations that manifested as living interactive memories—that is, what I often call “spheres of information” or infospheres for short.
Although it is difficult, I will do my best to anthropomorphize these nature spirits as little as possible, for they are not of mankind in any way. To my mind’s eye, these very ancient intelligences appeared as separate spirits of nature that might very likely appear to the physical eye as some kind of dark crystalline mineral, although they don’t seem to comprehend the notion of “separate” as we do. At first they seemed to be equal in size to me, but I eventually discerned this was a factor of perspective, and that they were really no bigger than a small child’s hand. If seen in direct sun they would sparkle with peculiar blue striations of shifting specks, very much the way deep, still water looks when dappled by sunlight. They would not be round and smooth, but striated like some kind of indigo-coloured tourmaline, able to polarize and transmit light, and even convert it to some kind of electromagnetic field of both attractive and resistant properties, affecting both physical and non-physical substances. They are able to utilize these properties to somehow shift their physicality which we would interpret as movement, but we would not easily see it happening because our modern brain’s visual optic responses are too underutilized and slow. People of ancient times would have been able to see this movement easily.
Upon deeper clairvoyant examination of their structure, it became apparent that they also used these various properties to communicate, in a way that microscopically resembled what I can only call “tectonic movements” as they shifted their crystalline grains against one another, which to our physical eye would appear as prismatic, but to their senses of receptivity would register as waves of vibrational pressure. Clairaudiently, I can only liken the process as something that would be like the action of crickets and grasshoppers known as stridulation—when these insects scrape certain wing or leg parts against one another to produce waves of resonance and amplification, which our human ears interpret as sound. It is because of this extraordinary quality, combined with their ability to move in a peculiar manner, that I would like to call them—at least provisionally—“Le Cavallette”—which is Italian for “grasshopper.”  However, keep in mind that as far as I could tell, they do not refer to themselves as anything, neither individually nor tribal, giving the impression that theirs is a primarily subjective self-experience. I was not able to tell if they discerned me as an object of any kind. I hope my name for them does not give the impression that they look like insects, much less like grasshoppers, and so I have provided a rendering of how I sense their appearance might be to us on our physical level.
When making these shifting movements, which appeared to happen almost constantly, the points of contact between one grain and another would, to our visual sense, look like a tiny darker spot, and which we would likely misinterpret as “eyes” opening and closing. There would be dozens and perhaps hundreds of these spots appearing and then vanishing, giving their surface a “winking” appearance. Even more unexpected was that this action gave me the impression that it was equivalent to what we could call laughter, and if this is true, they were most often in good humor, except when reminded of the absence of starlight. Then their winking would slow down, which perhaps was their way of expressing sadness.
Because Le Cavallette had highly evolved abilities of what we call the spiritual clear-senses, we were able to communicate quite easily—although it is a fair struggle for me to put into human language. There were totally unafraid of my “pearl” and took great pleasure in “tasting” it, and sharing it with one another. They seemed to instinctively know how to hold it and caress it with great care and tenderness, and gave it the greatest of respect and even reverence. The act of sharing seemed to be a primary and integral part of their “culture”—if such a term could be used—and I quickly discerned their expectation that not only would they like to share something with me, but that I ought to share something with them in exchange, not only to maintain a harmonic balance between us, but to somehow expand and evolve one another. This expectation not only suggests some kind of conscious intelligence, but even more significantly evidences the natural spirituality that enlivens all physical substance.
As I communed with them via infospheric exchange, I was able to convey that I wished to know their history and their stories, which are again, human ideas, but they understood me and so opened themselves to me and gave me access. Or, at least I think they understood—how can I really say? And what they wished from me for interchange proved to be astonishing and unanticipated, yet which was integral to their “story” and which will become more apparent in a moment. Keep in mind that this is my human cognitive interpretation of a wordless experience as I share with you what was shared with me, which will include my insertion of relative human measurements of time and climate.
Of course, it is useless to speak in terms of time when referring to the history of geological nature spirits, other than perhaps “ageless” since even mankind did not speak of history until a few flickers of aeons past. But at one “time” Le Cavallette occupied not the underground, but the surface of the Earth, brought there and perhaps even somehow engendered by the heat and pressures of the most ancient of land upheavals. Their greatest sensual pleasure was physical light, and they enjoyed constant exchange of energy—which we might call “emotional information”—with the unlimited sources of stars, which included our sun. They did not distinguish any difference between “light” and “darkness” until fairly recently (in geological terms) due to direct human interference. I did not get the impression that they read me as human, of which I was glad, given that it was because of humans that they no longer inhabited the earth’s surface. Even so, I didn’t get the impression that they knew what humans are or that they exist, so perhaps I had nothing to worry about.
However, they were still aware of but indifferent to certain forms of life, because they all lived in harmony as one. This included the wild and eventually domesticated goats and sheep that roamed the hills. Another of the fascinating qualities of the molecular structure of Le Cavallette is that it somehow attracts various kinds of moisture, which perhaps keeps them structurally sound and from falling apart, although that is just a guess. Strangely, they were very fond of the qualities of the greasy animal wax known as lanolin in the wool of the goats and sheep, and so would attract  the wax to themselves, unintentionally bringing strands of wool to their surface, which could accumulate in enough quantity that they would look hairy or furry to our eye; they were also able to magnetically repel the strands if the accumulation interfered with sun and starlight. For this reason, they often appeared hairy during the day, but hairless at night when the starlight was weakest. Further, their odd magnetic manipulations could also move them about. Because of wool’s ability to heavily absorb moisture, it was more able to repel the static electricity that would normally build up from rubbing against other surfaces. There are constant heavy breezes in these mountains, which have sparse vegetation for wind breaking, and so the fibers of wool on Le Cavallette were constantly being moved, creating electricity which would normally be resisted by the wool’s properties. But Le Cavallette were able to channel and magnify the static electric impulses in a way that would actually shift their position in quick bursts of movement, little jumps that clairvoyantly remind me of grasshoppers. They could also utilize this ability to cling to one another, increasing the impression of clumps of dung. Sometimes, if the older strands of wool were very dry, which was still rare due to the lasting  emollient qualities of the lanolin, the strands would burn in response to the static electricity, disappearing in quick wisps of flameless smoke.
These phenomena did not go unnoticed by the humans who eventually inhabited the mountains. The stories of prehistoric humans about these strange little stones were exchanged and embellished in many ways, which I was able to access through what I call the “aetheric compendium” and others might call the “akashic library.” For example, shepherds came to believe the stones to be some kind of special, transformed sheep dung because of the wool stuck to them, and valued them for their seemingly magical properties of movement and “heatless fire.” They had theories about which herbs the sheep ate to produce these odd spoor, and often fed the sheep the herbs to try to produce the stones. The stones were sometimes ground and ingested for all kinds of possible health applications, including being made into a paste mixed with lanolin and honey and applied to scrapes and cuts. Due to the mineral’s crystalline structure, such applications caused irritation, resulting in very slightly raised or puffy scarification. The crystals imbedded under the skin also produced a very slight but amplified electric impulse, particularly when stimulated by touch or focused sunlight. The result were beneficial effects when purposely applied to the meridian points of the human body’s electromagnetic energy channels. At some point in this prehistoric era, the people developed a system of tattooing the meridian points with the mineral paste in order to indicate specific points of healing on individuals with chronic health issues and who needed regular stimulation of those points. It was the shamans who made the psychic leap of understanding that the real cause of these effects were evidence of specialized life, and so realized that they were dealing with elemental spirits.
Equally interesting is that Le Cavellette were able to move back and forth from beneath the earth to the surface, and did so through natural crevices that were too small for humans, but of course eventually noticed by the shamans. My understanding is that this movement through the crevices was a response to a severe ice-age event of weather, which somehow caused either dense clouds to form, or maybe air pollution from a volcanic event, so that they were unable to get enough exposure to the starlight which they craved, and thus retreated more and more into the earth’s depths for their pleasurable source of energetic nourishment from deep volcanic activity. The shamans of the ancient humans were quite aware of these “doorways” Le Cavellette utilized, and would respect them by making sure they were never blocked, and piled stones around the “doorways” as protective shields, which the elementals didn’t seem to really notice. Many of these piles would later be misinterpreted by modern people as some kind of religious constructions.
Much, much later in time …. a certain number of some kind of Christian monks either went there on their own or were banished because of what could be called “over-ascetic practices,” and found the severe terrain of the boulder-strewn mountains much to their spiritual liking. They eventually discovered the unusual “properties” of Le Cavallette, but did not recognize them as a form of life and remained for a certain time uninterested. They were initially puzzled by the rough stone piles that the locals erected at the doorways, but quickly decided they were unhealthy “pagan rituals” that needed to be eradicated, especially when they realized that the strange stones were the reason for the stone piles. They discovered the crevices and blocked them up, even pouring some kind of hot pine tar or resin down to seal them up. And so Le Cavallette were eventually barred from traveling, and those that were not gathered up and destroyed by the monks, or collected and kept in secret by the locals, found themselves once again held deep inside the earth, until geologic upheavals might return them to the surface. Those that were collected and held by people eventually disintegrated or were tossed onto the ground, where they eventually assimilated back into the earth. My impression is that there are probably no known examples of them on the surface at this time, but perhaps they could still be found on the now-uninhabited slopes of the mountains, or even buried quite deeply. It seems that Le Cavallette were completely unaware of people, including the monks—or if they were, did not seem interested or concerned about them in any way, and so while seemingly incapable of blaming and resenting their banishment, do emit a sense of nostalgic sadness for starlight.
It is of significance to note that there are many stories all over the earth about “little people” who once came from within the earth and interacted in direct or indirect ways with humanity, only to be expelled or retreated back due to the ignorant fear and abusive responses of human civilization. The number of doorways that still remain open are very scarce at this time, and can only be found in the most remote areas that are uninhabited by humans. I personally know of only two and possibly a third.
And so, to return to the part where I learned what it was Le Cavallette wished from me. Because of how we exchanged information, they quickly discovered that I was on the surface of the earth, which by now was a barely accessible “memory” to them. They asked from me for my memory experiences of sun and starlight, and directed me to what appeared as a pile of dark crystals which I had not been aware of before. Then I saw that Le Cavallette were actually in a kind of small chamber which was part of the ancient system of crevices they once traversed to the surface. The dark crystals were also Le Cavallette , but no longer enlivened by light, and so, in our way of conceptualizing, were “corpses” that although were no longer inhabited by intelligence, were still potentially useful as “storage,” like batteries that could still hold energy in the form of memories which were nourishing and pleasing. They would take my light offerings and instill them in the batteries, to draw upon as needed. Although probably not correct, my anthropomorphic imagination was that they could then gather around a campfire that gave off not only light and warmth, but information, and perhaps, even entertainment.
In exchange, they would each add some kind of spiritual qualitative energy to my little “pearl” which would not only enhance it, but bond us, forever entangling our life forces, and expanding both the experience of our individualities and that of the universal infinity. It was with great pleasure that I used my imaginal sense to convey all kinds of light-filled memories, including the many nights I lay on the grass and reveled in the vast cosmos of stars overhead. I don’t know if they really understood my recollections of sunrises and sunsets, moonlight, candlelight, fireflies, fireworks, reflections off water, silver, brass and gold, but they seemed mesmerized, entranced, charmed. Then, I watched in wonder as over 100 of them—if I was correct in counting them as individuals—each took my pearl and invested it with a particular vibration, which I heard as a musical tone or saw as a dim glow of light, primarily blue but with auras of other colours.
Being of such a high intimately spiritual nature, this exchange is something that I could not adequately describe to share with  human language. But in closing, I can share some very brief qualitative impressions of my experience with Le Cavallette, with whom I now share an ongoing awareness, and to whom I am will be always grateful for the following qualities which may be only words to others, but are invaluable gifts to me:

~ crystal curiosity; stellar luminosity;
rolling laughter; wingless flight;
tactile tenderness; sonic serenity;
magnetic warmth; sparkling sparks;
golden blue; liquid light. ~

Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Recording of the 9/29/15 Interview

Here is the link to the recording of last night's show with Michael Johnson.

McHenry says, "That's my Dad!"

Autumn Evening Nap

Sunday, September 27, 2015

Upcoming Live Interview

On Pararock TV - August returns for more lively and exploratory conversation with Michael Johnson!