13 December 2014

Notes - a manifestation? / comparing an 'episode' Note from 2005 to today / press

         After noon. You completed your forty minutes of exercise a few minutes ago and are thinking on a post where I said learning was first and foremost among human beings and not the economy. – Amorella

         Yes, I read you wrote that somewhere but can’t remember which post and I can’t find it either. It doesn’t make any difference in this context. The point is that if I do learn something new every day isn’t there a way I can be more efficient in doing so?

         You focused on heart and soul and mind and you have developed an understanding but it sounds like you want to put this on a scientific plate. – Amorella

         I don’t know what I want other than to continue to tie it with the physical in the Merlyn stories. When I see a huge swarm birds in migration I wonder if human spirits could be like that – a swarm of most all the dead human spirits flying looking to learn new things even though they didn’t experience them directly just as birds would be looking for food for energy. It is in the swarm of the birds. How do they know where are (in the midst of the swarm) and where they are going? It looks as if it is directed intuitively. And, though human beings don’t swarm spirits may do so from time to time. It is interesting to think on. What would cause a company of human spirits to gather and then to swarm?

         A manifestation, to create an appearance. – Amorella

         1356 hours. To whom? Why? What would it look like? How would it be perceived?

         About time to go to lunch. Later, post. - Amorella


         You returned to Hallmark for more wrapping paper, then to Milano’s for lunch (VOA Centre). Carol had a hamburger (not so tasty) and you a calzone (very good). You have one stop at Kroger’s on Tylersville then home. You are going to clean the upstairs bathroom floors, then do the kitchen floor later. Carol has the bed made for Craig and Alta and you need to dust and sweep the upstairs.

         1535 hours. Sometime back, somewhere in my notes in the last ten years, I wrote of a flash of ghostly sequence that was out of the blue as usual. Spontaneous, it was. I was sitting, facing the west wall of Mary Lou’s living room in Westerville. This happened a few days after Mary Lou’s first husband (he since remarried) died. Suddenly I glanced up towards the northwest ceiling corner and a envisioned seven or eight human spirits on a kind of roller coaster (without the roller coaster of course) and they dropped from the ceiling to about two feet off the floor and back up towards the southeast ceiling. They appeared to be having fun and fourth or fifth one back was David. We saw one another and he pointed and said in his own voice, “That’s Richard. I know him.” Then, they vanished moving back up into the air and ceiling. I thought to myself, ‘David is having fun.’ If I knew what year David died I could find this is my notes.

         That should not be difficult. Do that, then publish what you wrote and you can see how will you remember the event. – Amorella

         1548 hours. That sounds interesting. The point I am making though is that although that was not a swarm of spirits it was a line of them sitting as if they were on a rollercoaster and coming down the hill from the ceiling then rising back up again towards the ceiling. This event lasted a second or two but it was not a dream sequence and they were no more than four or five feet from me personally.

         On the way home from the store you asked Carol when David died and she said February or March 2005 so this should be easy to check. Carol is adding small candy canes to the tree for a more festive tone. – Amorella

         1610 hours. I am not saying this was really David’s ghost. With a circumstance like my own you take such events in a personal manner. Comes with the territory of being stuck in the physical body I’m in. Such events are manifestations of a sort, like being in a quick flash inducing a hypnotic-like state. – Here is the slightly edited post from 15 February 2005. It is edited for clearer readability. 

         *** ***
Notes -15 February 05

         1250 hours. Carol and I just finished over an hour walk from uptown down to the dam at Westerville Park and up along University to the cemetery and around the cemetery taking the path down to the creek, then back up around the mausoleum and back up pass the vet memorial stones and up Knox to College and back uptown. We parked right across from our old apartment at 2 West College. I pointed out places and people of interest to me but she wasn’t interested . . .

         This reminds me of how detached I must be to most people. I don’t feel that way though, in fact, I feel more attached. I like to remember when I can. I suppose it goes back to my dysfunctional memory. Who knows? Who cares?

         This morning though, earlier, just before I was writing the last piece I put in the chapter, I felt a strange sensation I have not felt since some time ago. It was as an unusual but steady wind, but it was not physical, a breeze of maybe five miles an hour or so, not much, only it was internal, that is, it passed through me. I thought it was the Dead, some of them anyway, and somewhere in the first third of the duration of this phenomena [event] I heard the distinctive voice of David. In passing he said, That’s Richard,as he entered on the right and as he left out my left side a second later he said, “Richard, I know him,” then he was gone, maybe four feet to the left of me, that’s how it felt. And, I sensed that he said it to someone just behind or slightly behind him on his right.

         Now, I know this is only imagination playing tricks. I have had it happen before, and I at one time believed it was real, that I could talk, or at least listen to the Dead from time to time, but that is not true. Why would it be? With all this writing I have learned I have a vivid imagination. I just have to let it go at that. But it was interesting nevertheless, and strangely enough Amorella used it in chapter nine, and I thought, I gave him chapters one through eight of book two, now here he is giving me a line or two in chapter nine of book three. I have to laugh because what else can you do, a coincidence, two in the same morning, but I’m sure it happens from time to time. Real life is like that. Real life is not a fiction like the books. Anyone in their right mind knows that, and I have my mind, thank you very much. (1311) . .

2037 hours. What was interesting about the episode with David’s voice was that it was a measurable phenomena both in duration as well as in mass size, and perhaps even in density. Three to four seconds from the first approach until it was over, that is, from within about a foot from my right side to four feet off my left side. A few seconds earlier when I wrote in Amorella’s diary:


“No one is an exception in these books. No one. Those names are capitalized because human beings are capitalized in my books. You feel the spirits. It is as though you are dead, but you are not." 


Where I wrote, ‘You feel the spirits,’ for the next forty or fifty seconds until I finished . . .’ I felt an odd sensation I have not felt since the episode at the Mason cemetery during the 1988 mystical-like experience of several months where I wrote the letters. I described the situation later in book one, but I forget where. It was like the Dead rose on my left as I drove by [the cemetery]; an odd green, like an electro-magnetic disturbance in the ground. Again, it had measurable phenomena about it.

         Then I had the four-second experience; then I began writing at 0948 hours. I had just heard David’s distinct voice. It sounded quite normal as a matter of fact, like he was in the same situation, suddenly he and others were projected through me. He said, “That’s Richard,” as he entered, and “Richard,” about a foot from my left side, and I know,” with “him,” coming at about four feet out. He was talking to someone on his right, or just behind him. It was not like a straight line of spirits but a grouped set of spirits flowing as a fast current tube of ‘river’. The tube was between two and two and one-half feet in diameter. It had a thickness, but it was extremely, extremely light in weight; five to ten times less dense than air. Obviously less dense than that because it passed right through right ribs, lungs, and then left ribs. It was not less than nothing though. I don’t know on the density, I don’t have words for it, but the whole experience was real enough. [It was] as real as [I am] sitting in the chair writing this.

Selected from my Notes 2005

         *** ***

         1647 hours. This obviously is not the way I remembered the event an hour or so ago.

         You learned something about yourself today. Nothing wrong with that, boy. Post. - Amorella

         2146 hours. I have reread the 2005 posting a couple of times. I described the event as it was in much greater detail and much more accurate. I had forgotten much of the event. I know better than to rely on memory. This is the reason I write things down. The tone is consistent though. I am happy to see that.

         Carol has been watching “Criminal Minds” and you want to go watch last night’s “Grimm”. – Amorella

         2152 hours. I do wonder about my ‘experiences’. I cannot induce them though. I have tried. They are as uniquely ‘brought on’ as anything else. I can only assume it is caused by a mental element not working correctly from time to time. A short circuit that causes me to momentarily lapse into a flash of visual and audio thought, something similar to a dream. I have lived with it for most of a lifetime. No sense getting uptight about it now. It is so liberating to have these thoughts out there whether anybody reads them or not. Not all observations are reality. I do not talk to the Dead in real life, and really few talk back even in the ‘event’. Amorella talks through my fingertips, but this is liberating also. Each press of the keys knocks down part of my secret wall of imagination and supposition.

         Post. - Amorella

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