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Available now at your favorite bookstore By
all indications, we are not in “Kansas” anymore. It would seem that the
winds of change have blown the rug out from underneath us scientifically and
spiritually too. The “myths” we have used--or have used us--to make sense of
our world heretofore are turning into so much nonsense from a number of
perspectives. For example, Albert Einstein scribbled “E=mc2” on a blackboard
a hundred years ago and that equation became the gospel for those who followed
his mathematical logic thereafter. But now that century old bedrock of the Queen
of the Sciences--classical physics--is about to be dethroned. More so, the Holy
Bible records the importance of light to everything in existence: “In the
beginning God created the Heaven and the Earth. And the Earth was without form,
and Void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God
moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, let there be light and there
was light” (Genesis 1:1-3, KJV). Life
is light itself. The
implications here are mind-boggling for the speed of light was the one
“constant” we thought we could anchor our worldview: Our cosmology as well
as our consciousness. Light is what we see and see with in other words. However,
if light-speed is no longer the valid benchmark to calibrate our sense of
perception of the cosmos, then we have been set adrift on the ocean of opinion.
One man’s sense of reality, for example, may not be what the other man senses
to be true of his world at all. If the speed of light is subjective and not
objective, then no thing is
“solid,” not even the molecules of matter that has created you and me. Indeed,
this appears to be the case. The
latest laboratory findings in quantum physics say that the essence of light is a
liquid-like medium whose rate of flow can be turned on and off as a spigot
controls water. It can be slowed down and speeded up. Shockingly, we are being
asked to accept the fact that the “fixed” laws of nature are not fixed
anymore, becoming unglued at their hinges. In laymen’s terms, this is saying
that we human beings create our world reality through our observation of it, our
collective and individual frame-of-reference within an infinite "living
space," an electrified ether known as the "zero-point field." As
science writer Lynne McTaggart of London, England revealed in her book, The
Field: The Quest for the Secret Force of the Universe: "Death may be
merely a matter of going home or, perhaps, staying behind--returning to The
Field" (p. 196). See the near-death experience of Mellen-Thomas Benedict at
www.near-death.com for a personal "living" example as to the nature of
"The Field": It is God. Thankfully we also have a model of reality
that can restore order to our shifting sense of reality. It is the spiritual
universe paradigm mapped by the mythology of native cultures and taught by their
storytellers: shamans. Shamans have repeatedly demonstrated that they see and
interact with this "field," this source of light that has been
heretofore unseen by us "civilized" folks (with the exception of NDErs,
founders of religions, bipolar disorder sufferers, and a few other crackpot "mystic-types" like myself).
But
from my perspective, this is what's happening: our globe’s consciousness is
shifting into the fifth dimension of space and that will turn our 4-D world
upside down and inside out dimensionally--energetically, vibrationally. That is,
we are now melting en masse into the Mind of God: The Big Dreamer. Today we are
at the threshold of a major galactic event that occurs once every 26,000-years,
a harmonic convergence with the Cosmos at Large, and along with the Good News,
there is a lot of bad news as well. Our
scientists have some very disturbing news to report now: They are musing over
the potential for a catastrophic change in climate brought on by Global Warming
that will usher in the return of a “little” Ice Age in America, Canada, and
Europe in particular. Our Sun is entering into a new solar power megacycle that
will be heating the core of the Earth to its extreme limits and triggering
undersea volcanism, earthquakes, and wind-rain-snow-ice storms of increasing
severity and longevity too; the poles are preparing to flip, and that
electromagnetic shift will bring a new Heaven and a new Earth, a brand spanking
new "intuitive" consciousness--a "telepathic
society"--capable of manifesting miracles beyond our wildest imagination.
As Seattle pediatrician and NDE researcher Melvin Morse, M.D., declares in Where God Lives: The Science of the Paranormal and How Our Brains are
Linked to the Universe: ”When I say intuition
I mean nothing less than the ability to communicate directly with God.”
PREFACE The
story you are about to read is true. “John,”
the voice on the phone said, “I have some very bad news.” George
Sebastian Viguet III died in Huntsville, Alabama, of a massive heart attack on
November 9, 1987. Born in White Castle, Louisiana, January 24, 1947, he was a
young man of 40 when his life ended, officially at 9:30 A.M. on that Monday
morning. In fact, my best friend George drew his last breath in the medical
clinic of his family physician located right next door to Huntsville Hospital.
So, I guess when your time is up, your time is up. I mean if your doctor can’t
save you from the grip of death even when you walk in to see him with but the
slightest complaint that you are “not feeling well,” it’s simply got to be
your time to go. That is what I call fate.
I
had known George for 18 enjoyable years. He
and I met in 1969 while serving as soldiers in the U.S. Army. We-with a few
dozen other men-were assigned to the same military unit, the 116th Ordnance
Detachment at Redstone Arsenal, Alabama. All of us were being trained and
prepared for deployment to a unique missile unit then forming in Nuremberg, West
Germany. Our unit was given orders to set up an electronics repair shop at the
old historic base called Merrell Barracks, previously one of Adolph Hitler’s
strongholds during WWII. So,
on January 28, 1970, a planeload of us flew from Alabama to Europe to help bring
this elite outfit to full operational life. It was an exciting time for sure.
Young men set on a bold new life adventure would describe the situation. We flew
to Frankfurt, then were bussed down to Nuremberg several hours to the southeast,
settling into our literally concrete bunker living quarters. The single guys
were there for the duration of their tours of duty but we married guys began
counting the weeks, days, and yes, hours until our wives would arrive “in
country,” as we called it. I, too, was more than eager to set up house off
base and did so with my bride in the attic of a large German house. George
married Kathy, and I, Connie, only a couple months before we had to ship out
from Huntsville. Naturally, those first days of separation dragged on for us
newlyweds. Yet, our wives did finally arrive in mid-April on a chartered flight
out of New York City, and we all made up for lost time. We began touring the
medieval castles of Bavaria as well as partying with members of our outfit at
the NCO clubs and at the German festivals. I still smile today when I see all of
us in those huge beer tents swaying those huge liter beer steins back and forth
in time to the native music. I loved the yodeling and “Chicken Dance”
especially. I recall swinging quite a few of those large mugs to my lips for
about a year and a half-until May 7, 1971, to be exact, the date of my
discharge. Not surprisingly, I remember little else of my overseas tour 30 years
later! Before
we knew it, we were discharged from active duty, returning stateside. I got an
“early out” to attend the University of Alabama in Huntsville under the GI
Bill, and George did the same a few months afterwards. I began my studies in
June 1971 in electronics engineering, then switched majors to psychology after I
had a class in that subject where my professor held degrees in divinity,
engineering, and psychology, too. Dr. Sullins was a Renaissance man with a
kangaroo mind, he could hop from one of these topics to the other one without
missing a step-my heart leaped in recognition of a kindred spirit. I loved to
philosophize about the meaning of life as well. Now George pursued a rigorous
curriculum in optical physics and advanced mathematics, graduating with honors.
After our schooling, we both began civilian careers with the Department of
Defense. My
friend was born to be a scientist. George
was bright, and introverted. I was not all that bright, and extroverted.
However, our paradoxical blend of personalities yielded some fairly witty
conversations over hotly contested chess games and cold beer. We had many deep
philosophical conversations over the years, some of which were on life after
death. George believed that when you were dead, you were dead and gone, as I
recall it. I remained open to an afterlife because of a childhood experience
that I did not tell him about at that time out of fear of ridicule--but I will
share it with you in Part One. Albeit
terribly shocked to hear of his death that fateful day, I put on my stoic face
of acceptance. Though later that week at his elaborate Catholic funeral, where I
was a pallbearer, I stared at that metal-box in front of me solemnly. I kept
asking myself over and over again: Where
is my friend this morning? Where in the world--or out of this world--is the
“soul” of the person that I know as George right now at this very minute?
This
line-of-inquiry turned out to be fruitful. I was about to learn in a few months
hence that George was not, I repeat, he was not
dead. Little did I know then that that truth would cost me dearly: it would
cost me my peace-of-mind for the next ten years. For
in June 1988, seven months after I helped bury him, I had an up-close and
personal encounter with my friend. Around four A.M., in an altered state of mind
that we hypnotherapists call a hypnopompic
condition-not quite awake-I saw
George. I saw George standing at the foot of my bed. This was no dream, however.
Though he looked younger, George was the same person that I had known all these
years, except his “flesh” was not as I’d expect it to be. He looked like
one of these finely crafted oriental ice sculptures yet very much alive. I kept
staring at him with a deer in the head lights look of amazement. In
large part that was because George was dressed strangely. He was wearing a
brightly-colored, short-sleeved Hawaiian luau shirt with a white beachcomber
hat! Spontaneously, I jerked myself fully awake with a start and I asked myself:
Is George made of glass? His “skin,” as it was, looked a lot like that
crystal clear free-flowing water creature did in the Hollywood movie The
Abyss. Then, here was the other shocker: George had a row of flattened metal
beer cans stuffed on the inside of his hat’s headband! No
doubt this Cajun was ready to party again! Yes,
I could accept that interpretation, not a problem. However, upon deeper
reflection I sensed intuitively the symbolic
meaning to his bizarre mode of dress. It was not a comical, playful joke as I
first thought it was. It was, as I came to see with my third eye opened in
trance, a profoundly meaningful gesture to me. George was projecting a set of
specific “images” that only I would be able to decipher correctly. He was
using a true “body language”--a word that originally meant to send vision
from afar as, for example, does the octopus, who changes colors to express
itself rather than emitting sounds to do so. Thus
I recalled that when I had entered the funeral home in Huntsville, I walked down
the center aisle to the front of the chapel, leaned over his casket, and said:
“George, a joke is a joke, now let’s go get a beer!” That is, he was
showing me by his colorful party attire and “the old beer cans in the hat band
trick” that he was alert and very much alive even then at the supposed
“end” of his life. To
the point: my buddy never died at all. George went into the fifth dimension, and
so shall we all "consciously" sooner or later: “Then shall two be in
the field; the one shall be taken, and the other left” (Matthew 24:40, KJV). The fifth stage is ether, or
space, meaning that pure spirit has been reached. --John
Major Jenkins American Delphi Academy Know
Your Self--Oracle at Delphi, Greece |
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