Saturday, August 22, 2009
SPACE IS FULL OF ENERGY VIBRATIONS. In other words: space is not nothingness or empty!! It is full of energy vibrations that are not noticed or sensed by us. When we live in a human body, physical reality is the main vibration of the universal mind we are able to experience. This vibration or reality includes time and space for they are the most important aspects of the scenery or stage we perform on. Physical reality is a minuscule aspect of the infinite spectrum of energy vibrations we call the universal mind.
ABOUT TIME AND SPACE - THE CENTER POLES OF PHYSICAL REALITY! We experience time and space when we are awake. And even then, depending on our activity; time and space are quite flexible. The duration of time and the volume of space, depend on our attention or focus. The more we focus on either, the more pronounced they become! This proves that time and space are actually created by us and when we are unconscious or asleep we stop creating them. Time and space are the center-poles of our matter reality or physical world. They form the psycho-physical background of our day to day existence. The more attention we give them, the more they acquire! They are flexible components or conditions. Time and Space are created by our mind, our brain and our senses, working in a synchronizing energy field. The reality of time and space are generated by this special energy field that we are involuntarily subjected to, as long as we live in a physical body. Time and space, in and by themselves, do not exist and we become more and more aware of them when we focus upon them and thus co- create them. Time and space are each other's opposite. Time is the result of movement and space is the distance traveled during this movement. Time and space are also each other's mirror images. There is no time without space and no space without time. Time and space are a continuum!
Sunday, August 9, 2009
I've been back to the 2nd psychic a few times since my initial visit. She always knows what's on my mind. I mean, she takes the words right out of my mouth. It's astounding. She's literally reading my mind. She knows what I'm concerned about at the moment. She knows what I like and what I don't like. Spooky, but true. She knew my thoughts while I was sitting there looking at her.
It certainly makes me wonder about a lot of other things in life. I was never a very religious person, although I was brought up as a Catholic, but after visiting these psychics and getting a message from my recently deceased father, it has really made me reconsider the possibility of an afterlife.
To each his own. My very own brother is the skeptical type. He won't even go see a psychic if I pay for him to see one. He's that closed-minded. He says he's made his mind up about psychics based upon reading he's done and TV shows from the skeptical perspective and that sort of thing. Why he wouldn't want to confirm or deny such a phenomenon first hand, is beyond me?!? I did so, and I can confidently say I came out of those encounters with psychics as one who is convinced there is something to the phenomenon. It's not just guessing and cold reading. It's way beyond that if you go see a real psychic.
But, I went to see a psychic last year and I was very impressed. The woman did a tarot card reading for me. She didn't know me from a doorknob, yet somehow described my life very accurately, even down to personal concerns between me and my fiance'. Things that you couldn't guess about acurately. Like specific things we had discussed. The woman did not perform a cold reading, she did not ask me probing questions of any kind.
So, I was intrigued and I went to see another psychic. I just called her out of the blue and requested a reading. 15 minutes later I was sitting in front of her. She knew nothing at all about me. I didn't give her my name or anything. She proceeded to describe the events of my life very accurately. I went through a major depression as a teenager and she described it to a tee. She also describe my family members very accurately and my concerns about the future. Again, she did not perform a cold reading, she did not ask probing questions.
I had a recent encounter with a psychic medium at a psychic fair. Again, this person had never met me and knew nothing about me and again did not ask a lot of questions (a cold reading). He picked up on the fact that my father had passed away recently and proceeded to pass along information about my father and messages from him. The information about my father was very accurate. My father was not an easy person to guess about, because he didn't have a lot of hobbies or personality traits. But, this medium described my father perfectly, the fact that he loved to read and always sat in his favorite chair. The messages he passed on from my father sounded very much like what my dad would say. My father described heaven as a place where you are reunited with deceased family members and friends and your knowledge and resources are limitless.
Try pyschics out before passing judgement based upon some closed-minded skeptic or some HBO show. I've read skeptics accounts of John Edward's show and they aren't an accurate portrayal of how he conducts his show. Be skeptical of skeptics.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
All animals are constantly communicating with one another through the silent language. Clearly and without question, all animals on earth have the power to communicate silently with one another. This power is shared by even plant and vegetable life, fish of the sea, the tiniest organisms squiggling beneath the microscope. At one time in human history, it seems certain, we shared that same power. We have, however, gradually lost and forgotten it as our conscious, verbal means of communication became more and more dominant. In that way, the discovery of our pet's psychic powers is a rediscovery of our own.
A pet may not always be able to understand or interpret all that it perceives in its owner, but in all cases the psychic realm is modulating and informing your pet's behaviour. Whether you choose to or not, you are sending psychic waves which most animals can automatically receive. That is why some animals seem to be such precise and instinctual judges of human character, why some people seem to have such immediate friendships with animals while others find themselves avoided or mistrusted. We have all seen examples of this and have, to one degree or another, explained it by acknowledging certain hidden perceptual powers in animals. Yet even those who recognize and trust the perceptions of their animals often fail to take the next step.
Those moments of extraordinary perception we see in animals are connected to a full and complete system of understanding which is always in operation. Once we can recognize this body of psychic knowledge, this arsenal of psychic skills in our animals, we can enter into a wholly unique and intense relationship with our pets based on their - and our own - psychic powers, and allow our pets to teach us a silent language we once knew, but have lost over the ages
Can every pet be a psychic pet?
Just as there are intellectual and emotional limits in humans, there are limits beyond which many a pet cannot pass. In fact, some animal companions are even dull, due to such factors as over-breeding, in-breeding, biochemical misfortunes, or psychological traumas. There are also certain limits characteristic of the different species. Yet despite all of the innate. qualities which can affect a pet's psychic ability, none is quite so important as the human's ability to communicate with the animal. . Even the least psychic of animals can, if properly approached, teach us a great deal about the sixth sense.
Nowhere is the complexity and psychic rigorousness of nonhuman social life better illustrated than in the kingdom of the honey bee. One of the most cogent descriptions of the intricate world of
the bee appeared in The First New England Catalogue. The author, Eugene Keyarts, brilliantly captures the intense social life of this common insect:
In a colony, the queen is capable of laying 2000 eggs every day. She has the ability to control the sex of each of these eggs and determines whether an egg shall hatch as a worker (female) or drone (male). There is no such thing as a `queen bee egg.' It is impossible for a queen to reproduce one of her own kind. The creation or conception of a queen bee is solely the decision of worker bees.
When an old queen dies or abdicates, potential queens are selected by the workers. Any worker egg or larva, not more than three days old, may be chosen for the dubious honour. Incredible as it may seem, a worker egg left to develop without interference develops the complex organism that is a worker bee. She nurses the larvae, makes wax and comb, keeps the hive clean and guards against intruders, then spends the last days of her brief life . . . foraging in the fields for pollen and nectar. The worker bee performs all those chores necessary for the welfare of the colony, with one exception, that of egg-laying. But give the same worker larva a little more `Lebensraum', keep it on a strict diet of `royal jelly' and it becomes an equally complex organism - that of the queen bee - following an entirely different route of development and accomplishment. One notable change is the queen's life span, which may extend from six to eight years in comparison to the worker's short six weeks.
A queen bee does not gain her high office by descending from a royal line or by divine right. She and several other worker eggs are nominated candidates by groups of their peers throughout the hive. Those selected are given special attention and fed royal jelly, which actually transforms and prepares them for their royal duties.
When the workers have chosen an egg or larva, harbinger of a queen that may eventually reign over them, they tear down the walls of the cell in which the candidate lies and start building a queen cell around her. When completed, a queen cell, made of wax and usually attached to the side of the comb, resembles a peanut shell in size, shape and colour. As the princess advances through the larval stage, she is fed by nurse bees. The candidates feed so copiously, they actually float in a sea of royal jelly inside their cell. Royal jelly is a secretion produced by glands in the nurse bee's head. Sixteen days after the egg is laid, the fully matured princess gnaws her way out of her cell to declare her sovereignty.
Once free of her confining quarters, she sounds a high-pitched challenge to any other pretenders who may be ready to contest her right to be queen. Customarily, the workers nominate more than one candidate to strive for the high office of ruling monarch and build several queen cells at about the same time. The first princess to emerge rushes to those queen cells from which come answers to her challenge; tearing the cells to shreds, she stings her competitors to death. These assassinations continue until all her rivals have been vanquished, after which she takes a well-earned rest, then swiftly walks about on an inspection tour of her domain. She is not yet accepted by her sisters, they do not crowd around her, she must first prove herself by returning from a successful nuptial flight.
Four to ten days after her victory over her rivals, the surviving princess prepares for her wedding flight. On a bright, sunshiny day she takes wing, to mate, high in the air, with the fastest flying drone of those who pursue her. He couples with her in mid-air, dying in the act, actually exploding and depositing millions of spermatozoa in a pouch within the bride's body. The queen seldom mates more than once in her lifetime, thereafter becoming both mother and father to all the eggs she may lay . . .
Arriving home, she is immediately surrounded by the royal attendants who take care of her every need from now on. They wash, clean, massage, comb, feed her.
The new queen starts laying within forty-eight hours after mating. She inspects each cell carefully to see that it is properly cleaned and polished. Having satisfied herself that a cell is ready to receive an egg, she straddles the cell, inserts her long slender abdomen into it and leaves a single egg. Even during the few seconds required to lay an egg, the queen's royal ladies-in-waiting groom and feed her.
The endless round of egg laying is repeated over and over for the rest of the queen's life . . . A queen may lay millions of eggs in her lifetime. She controls the sex of each egg by touching it with a speck of the father's sperm to produce a sterile female worker or withholding the sperm to produce a drone. But she does not decide when or how many eggs to lay. This decision is made by the nurses. When there is sufficient pollen being harvested to feed the larvae, the nurses stuff the queen with royal jelly and she continues to lay at top speed.
When the pollen supply falls off, the nurses restrict the queen's intake of royal jelly and she immediately slows down or stops her egg laying activity
The power of precognition. The power of ESP. The power of telepathy. And the power to experience a love so pure and deep that it can only be called cosmic. These are but some of the unique abilities your pet can display . . . if you learn how to tune into them.
How is it that our pets can read our thoughts? How do they sense our private emotions, even when we ourselves may not be fully aware of them? Many who have relationships with animals ask themselves these questions but because the answers may take them beyond the well-worn path of accepted knowledge, the questions are left unanswered.
In observing pets and their human companions, as well as through studying the literature dealing with the animal sixth sense, it has been found that those animals with the most highly developed sixth sense are usually those who are most deeply loved by their owners. If not nurtured, the sixth sense in animals will atrophy, or at least remain hidden from human observation. Though a particularly intelligent pet will develop itself and its sixth sense under most circumstances, the most remarkable communications between animal and human need a large measure of human cooperation - a co-operation based on respect for and belief in the animal's innate powers
ANYONE WHO has lived closely with his or her pet has a basic grasp of what promises to be a crucial phase in human intellectual history. While pet owners do not generally view themselves as members of a group engaged in important scientific research, the fact is that the reports of those who have observed their animals may very well be the basis for some of the most startling revelations in the study of uncanny animal behaviour.
There are many reasons why people decide to own pets - to ease their own loneliness, to protect property, or for a purpose as practical as ridding a house or barn of mice. But much to some owner's surprise, they soon realize that they have entered into a very special relationship with a creature whose powers far exceed anything which the owner had been reared to expect. Pets, originally purchased as aristocratic creatures of display to be paraded in local shows, often end up in incalculably different roles - as confidants, peers, teachers.
Those who have already experienced the mysterious power of the animal kingdom can pinpoint the exact moment when they first realized that their pet was operating on a level far different from and vastly superior to-that which the pet had first been given credit for. A cat leaps on to the telephone table and makes worried feline sounds just before the phone rings with an important message; or a dog suddenly, without warning, goes through a radical behaviour change, pacing and whining, and the owner has no idea why; an hour later, a loved one comes knocking at the door and the dog, finally, curls up in contented sleep. One close friend first glimpsed the psychic power of animals in a tragic way. Her pet canary, Lucy, began to chatter wildly something the ordinarily placid and heedless bird never did - at the sound of a bicycle being pedaled up the front walk. The cause of the commotion? A Western Union messenger was bringing news of my friend's sister's death - the sister who had given her the canary a few months earlier.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Since the birth of the cats, her canine friend had been included in the family life. He often stood guard over the litter. While his instincts told him not to touch the kittens, it seemed from his gaze and attentions that he cared for them. But when it came time for the mother to move her nest she found that she needed her friend's assistance. She brought the dog face to face with her kittens, then walked with him to where she was making her new nest. then walked with him back to her litter. Although the dog seemed baffled, the mother cat left to continue preparing the nest. The dog did show up in the new nest, but without kittens. The mother cat led him to the old nest a second time. This time, the dog got her silent message. Going against all his instincts, he gently picked up and carried each kitten, moving the fitter to its new home.
This is an instructive example of inter-species psychic communication.
Of course to an expert, the cat explained her request to the dog through body language, but without a simultaneous telepathic communication the message would not have been complete nor would it have been understood. Clearly, the cat was able to transplant a visual image into the consciousness of her canine friend, a detailed and consecutive series of images which would at once encourage the dog to do a difficult thing and give him exact instructions on how to do it.
It seems to me that if a dog can learn to understand the unspoken language of a cat, we humans have a good chance of understanding it, too. A good start to learning to penetrate the sensitive and profound inner world of the cat is to concentrate on some of the outward signs and modes of communication that we can observe in any cat
On a more crucial level, cats have been recorded as having sensed the presence of death and of predicting all manner of disasters. The British, who in World War 11 endured the Luftwaffe's bombs, learned to depend on their cats. It was widely observed that cats had a foreknowledge of bombing raids. Even before the approaching German planes were detected on radar, cats would be seen rushing towards bomb shelters. Although there is no official count of how many British lives were saved by heeding the warning of cats, it is widely agreed that the number is a high one.
In the area of animal heroism there seem to be many more recorded cases of dogs reaching out to save human or animal life than stories about cats. Quite simply, the cat's relatively small size makes its heroism less conspicuous. And the cat's reputation for unconcern with human affairs can lead people to ignore their warnings. If a dog senses danger it can, if need be, intervene directly. It can drag a child from a burning house, tug his master forcefully by the sleeve.
But the cat can only give signs and make small noises. Also, the cat's nature is not as similar to our own as is the dog's. While the cat can of course be loved and even worshipped, it is harder to identify with than the dog is. Few cat lovers can look at a pet and think: He's just like me! Even physically, where a dog may take on a striking resemblance to his owner, the cat will remain ever himself, will make only the most necessary modulations in his behaviour so that he may communicate with his master. Cats have no intention of surrendering their individuality. They are supremely (and inspiringly) confident of themselves, of their completeness, of -their profound understanding of the universal order.
However, when a cat needs to communicate it seems to make no difference who the listener is - the cat will try and will often succeed in getting the message across. W. A. Hudson tells the story of a cat who was raised with a puppy who became her closest friend. This cat was unusually small. When she had a litter of kittens, she found it difficult to carry them in her mouth. One day, for reasons known only to her, she suddenly judged her nest unsuitable, and a move to a new place became top priority in her life
The cat divides his life between two worlds, and most strike a balance brilliantly. Our cats always seem to be dozing at the exact spot on the rug where the sun is the warmest - yet these same sensual creatures spend a portion of each day tuned in to messages which not only we can't hear but which remain a mystery to most other animals as well.
Cats are masters of foreknowledge, and our ability to heed the felines predictions can either be amusing or fife-saving. My cat Loretta, great-granddaughter of Alex, was uncanny in her ability to know whether the phone was ringing to herald a personal call or a business call. Loretta, a bit of an anarchist, would never respond to a business call, but if the call was personal Loretta would rush towards the ringing phone, and pace back and forth before it until I answered. When the person calling happened to be someone Loretta was fond of, she'd jump on the telephone table and touch the ringing instrument with the tip of her nose
This does not mean that the cat is not a suitable or a loving pet. If you are going to have a truly close relationship with your cat, you must adopt your cat's ways of communication - and these are almost wholly psychic. Unlike a dog, you don't get close to a cat by rolling around on the floor with it, or throwing it sticks to chase (though many cats certainly enjoy both of these activities.) You will not even grow close to your cat by doing the things for it that it so manifestly demands - such as stroking it, feeding it, supplying it with catnip, and giving it the most luxurious spots to lounge and doze in. Your cat will definitely be pleased with all of these considerations; but if this is all your relationship consists of, it will be a limited one. The true closeness must come from a different direction: it must come from the psychic realm. True companionship with a cat is based on telepathic communication.
It is often said that cats are the most psychic of all the animals, more closely attuned to human thought and the natural order than even dogs. I see no reason to enter into this old dog-v.-cat argument. All animals are psychic, and each species has a more profound psychic level than any human could hope to understand. However, to some people the private ways of the cat may be misread as a kind of inattention. Compared with dogs, most cats seem a little anti-social, but it is this very aloofness which connects the cat so profoundly to the world of the unseen.
The cat is descended from solitary hunters (rather than from pack animals). This nature has caused it to depend to an extraordinary degree on its psychic abilities. Cats are designed for total awareness it is their nature to respond to the slightest stimuli with utmost confidence and a complete lack of hesitation. This is true of cats in the wild, and it is true of domesticated cats as we've been told. A very highly regarded feline behaviourist and veterinarian once said to me, `The cat is a very psychic animal - it has to be, for survival. Its existence depends on acute psychic awareness
An English magazine called Tomorrow reports the same kind of phenomenon, but having to do with a cat's sensing a human's psychic distress call. A cat named Bill, devoted to his master, stayed home while his owner went traveling some distance. The man, badly hurt in a railway accident died in a hospital a few days later.
He was buried near the hospital, and at the interment the man's brother saw Bill there.
Bill, the faithful and clairvoyant cat, had known what - had happened and had made the journey to be near his master. The cat went to the edge of the grave, looked at the coffin, and then, sadly, turned and went back home.
Since humans first stood face to face and looked long into the eyes of the feline, with its vertical pupil and endless multicoloured depth, the cat has reminded us of the supernatural. The cat has always been associated with those parts of the universe which we humans fail to understand. When humans were closer to and still more or less remembered their animal (psychic) origins, it was not at all uncommon for psychic animals to be worshipped as gods.
Dogs, crocodiles species of birds, were all taken to represent the universal order and the hidden, secret powers of the universe. But no animal has been worshipped quite so fervently as the cat. In ancient Egypt, anyone known to have killed a cat was himself put to death.
For some, the quiet, secret grace of the cat may have been emblematic of all that was unknown in the universe; others may have been able to actually plumb the depths of the feline character, discovering all kinds of marvellous and astounding powers. It is interesting to note that as we drifted further and further from our origins further from the animal kingdom, and developed our rational, logical explanations of the universe, worship of animals turned into fear of animals.
Medieval communities literally lived in dread of the wilderness that surrounded them. (See Chapter 11 on animal transformation for a more detailed look at this fear.) Animal nature, rather than being looked up to and learned from, became synonymous with godlessness and depravity. The cat, once placed upon a pedestal and revered for its psychic powers and infinite grace, w;; transformed into an evil omen; frightening creature of the nigh: companion of the devil and the devil's handmaidens, witches. The night patrolled by the cat was the night of the human unconscious; the psychological space the cat stalked was that of the innate psychic powers which humans had abandoned within themselves as they rushed headlong into the modern age.
But while we may have suffered from the evolutionary drift away from our psychic powers, the most common housecat impresses us as being not very different from his ancient ancestors. Ages of living with humans seem to have changed the cat very little. Perhaps the cat intuitively knew the dangers of domesticity and has, therefore, always kept part of himself in reserve. Even the pudgiest, most pampered show-cat lets us know in a hundred different ways that he is still an untamed psychic creature, that he still primarily obeys a higher authority
Dr Gustav Eckstein of the University of Cincinnati relates the story of Willy, a feline strangely fascinated by the game of Bingo. Every Monday evening Willy would leave home at precisely seven thirty, trot across town to the hospital where the Bingo games were held, and stay until nine forty-five, at which time he thought he should be heading home. Willy's fascination with the game of Bingo is interesting in itself, but his sense of a weekly schedule is truly amazing.
(The cat's ability to achieve absolute oneness with the universe will be detailed fully in our discussion `The Cosmic Compass.')
But now, because my schedule was keeping me away from home more and more, I decided to find Alex a feline friend. I got Alex a little kitten to avoid contests that seem inevitable between grown cats. Alex thought this was a perfectly wonderful idea and he took to `Monk' immediately. Monk, an energetic tabby, looked up to Alex and it was a great pleasure to see them wrestling together, and staring at the things which only cats seem to see. For a while, I feared I might be excluded, but this was not the case. Alex was still fast friends with me.
One Saturday morning, I had to go to the drugstore and Alex, of course, came along. When I went inside, Alex, as usual, waited outside the door. A few minutes later, I noticed Alex was in the store, running down the aisle towards me in a state of tremendous agitation. Meowing loudly, his tail flicking like a whip, he stood before me. I didn't know if I was imagining ii, but his eyes seemed bright with fear. I quickly put my purchase back on the shelf, picked up Alex, and took him outside. When I put him down, he began pacing back and forth, meowing louder and louder. Then he began to run - in the opposite direction from our house. He stopped: - in his tracks, meowed at me, and waited.
I knew Alex usually had a reason for doing the things he did and e so I followed him. Alex took me further and further from our house-, until we came to a yard. He darted into the yard and crawled under an old, white frame house. I followed him, got on my knees, and tried to see what he was so concerned about.
When my eves adjusted to the darkness, I saw Alex standing there over the motionless Monk. I reached under the building and laid my hand on Monk's chest. He was still breathing, but only slightly. There was blood on him; he'd been struck by a car.
I wish this story had a happy ending - but there was no saving the poor kitten. Yet my already immense respect for Alex grew even greater. How had he known the moment when disaster befell his friend Monk? What psychic distress signals had he received? And, if I had been more open, would I have `heard' Monk, too?
In fact, I thought his survival mechanisms must have been a little off because he hadn't chosen a very likely candidate in his search for a suitable human companion. Nevertheless, I did give him a name Alexander, or Alex -just so I'd have something to call him while I attended to the real business at hand - which was, of course, finding the home to which he belonged.
As time went on, and I met with no success in finding his true owners, a curious but deniable soft spot for my little grey visitor appeared in my heart. Yet I was still determined to make his stay temporary.
Finally, I found a family who wanted Alex and I carried him the two blocks to their house. We said goodbye and I went off to my classes. When I returned home, Alex was waiting for me on the window sill. He ran down to greet me, making his prrt-prrt, and rubbing his arched back against my legs. I must admit I was glad to see him.
Still, I returned him to the family who'd adopted him and this time I didn't even say goodbye. Alex wasn't fooled by my outward behaviour. He knew I liked him -he knew it better, and even before, I did. That evening he was waiting for me. Again I took him back to the family - who was getting a little bored with the complicated courtship - and this continued for a solid week before I gave in and told Alex he could live with me permanently.
The first thing I learned from Alex was the tremendous affection and fidelity cats are capable of showing. Perhaps it was because he'd been a stray and wasn't happy with the idea of separation; but, in no time, Alex had fitted himself very neatly into my schedule. He followed me to campus every day and, to my surprise, was waiting for me in roughly the same spot each afternoon, though my schedule of classes was changeable. Alex, however, knew when I'd be there. Only once was he late, and I ,could see him streaking towards our spot on the common - like an Olympic runner doing the 500 metres
I was constantly amazed at how he seemed to know my daily schedule, though cat lovers know that felines have a knack for telling time. These cosmic creatures have intricate and unerring internal clocks. One black and white cat by the name of Gypsy is noted in the literature of the field. Gypsy's job was to wake his mistress at six forty-five every morning. However, when it was the season to switch to Daylight Saving Time, his mistress informed him, and Gypsy made the necessary adjustment
I grew up in a family in which everyone liked dogs and the only cats we had lived in the barn. I never knew what they did there, except to catch mice and to sleep beneath the cows' noses on the coldest nights so they might be warmed by the soft, bovine breath. While I had a certain affection for cats, I also had the usual misconceptions about the feline spies which people who have not studied cats often have. I thought them disloyal, aloof, basically uninterested in human affairs. I don't exactly know what this says about me, but I wasn't terribly anxious to have a pet who was not loyal to me.
It wasn't until I went to college that I had my first real encounter with a cat - an encounter which lasted nine years. The cat in question - my first and all-important guide to the world of feline intelligence - picked me out in the late spring. He must have been only four or five months old, and as appealing as any of those cats whose pictures appear - usually with a ball of yarn, or wearing a gardening hat - on certain kinds of calendars. All grey, except for one white spot and a bit of white on the tip of his tail, this young cat had a somewhat Siamese body, yet a roundish face and a much fuller tail. There was no question that I found him appealing, yet there was also no question that I had no intention of keeping him.