The Dumbing Down of America

If you are interested in this subject please read this article and view the video I mention.

https://www.psychologytoday.com/…/anti-intellectualism-and-…

THERE CAN BE NO DOUBT that this dumbing down is taking place. It is anti-intellectual which also means “anti-art.” I came into the world of opera when this was happening. Nobody seemed to know who was giving the orders or how high up they were. Agents claimed to have no control. They also said they didn’t know who was running things. Articles appeared in the New York Times talking about the death of real opera. THEY didn’t know who was giving the orders! General Directors and Artistic Administrators and stage directors all claimed to be in the dark as concerning who was controlling opera and changing it to a dumbed down version of itself. If anyone wants to look deeper into this you should view this video about the Cecil Rhodes secret society. https://youtu.be/FoMezGPkyzU It just may tell you what you want to know. The Rhodes secret society was first set up to support the British rule of the world and later changed to support globalization with the West in control. The society was organized into rings of power. In the U.S. the foremost ring was The Council on Foreign Relations which at first was a front for J.P. Morgan and later became dominated by the Rockefeller interests, strictly globalist. One of the needs of globalism is to destroy strong national interests so that unions, like the EU, can be formed. Dumbing down the American people was and is a strong interest for the globalists. There were times set for various phasing in of certain policies. The time set to dumb down the arts was in the early 1970’s. In my field of art, all of a sudden, directors, managers, et al, were no longer interested in great dramatic voices wielded by great personas, as had been the case since the beginning of opera in 1594. The New York Times even wrote enormous articles about this loss of greatness in opera. No one seemed to understand who was giving the orders for this change. The Rhodesians were giving the orders behind the scenes, and that means the Rockefellers. David Rockefeller was a long time Board member of the Metropolitan Opera and had been Chairman of the Board for a period.

I came into opera by winning the Metropolitan Opera Auditions of the Air. My voice was highly praised by the critics, comparing me to a young Lawrence Tibbett. But I soon found that there were blocks being set in my way. I had to fight hard for every role I got. The critics and audiences praised me, but the business of opera was not opening its door for me. Finally in 1981 I had a break through. I sang the lead role in a New York premiere of an opera with the small company called The Chamber Opera Theatre of New York. Critics from all over the country came and I had an almost unheard of level of success. I thought sure the “big boys” would let me into their closed club after that! They didn’t and they made sure The Chamber Opera Theatre of New York was put out of business! What was going on?

Shortly after that New York premiere success my agent called me and told me I was to go to a certain office building. He gave me the name of a man who requested a meeting with me. I have forgotten his name. Back then I was totally ignorant of what was going on. I walked into his large office. He greeted me like he had known me a long time. He spoke like someone with power, like he was at the top of something, though that was not revealed to me. He talked in a jovial way like, “We’ve been watching you now for quite a while. When you first came to New York you were pretty stiff and some people just wrote you off.” He laughed and asked if I wanted a drink. I declined. He made himself a whiskey on the rocks and continued. “Now that you’ve shown us all how good you are, this would probably be a good time for you to go to Germany. Sing your Tonios and Rigolettos. You are not going to be let in here.” I think my jaw dropped at that. It didn’t sink in what he had just said, and the power with which he said it. There was a little more polite conversation and I left. I didn’t even tell my agent what he had said. I had just been told by someone at the very top that they did not care how good I was. They were not going to let me into their closed shop. They no longer wanted big-voiced dramatic artists who could move audiences. They wanted “a certain type of mechanically facile young performer (a quick study and top reader, obediently flexible in rehearsal) whose singing is neat and unthreatening and who can be described with the oft-heard phrase,’attractive, moves well, excellent diction.’ But we cannot care about or believe in a note they sing or a word they say, for much the same reasons that in life we often do not believe or trust persons whose preoccupation is with being attractive, moving well, and possessing excellent diction.” (The New York Times, April 20, 1980)

The Rhodesians were in the process of dumbing down the arts, weakening a culture, for the on-going process of globalization. Around that time a very big agent told me, “We like your work and we respect your talent, but we don’t have the time and resources to beat down the doors for you. It’s a small, closed group. The same people get hired for everything.”

I was a Midwestern boy who believed if you worked hard you would be rewarded for it. To think that I was being excluded because I was TOO good just did not compute. By now this process in my art of opera is complete. The singers you hear today on the Met stage are mediocre at best. Everybody mourns the loss of great singers and nobody understands how it all happened!!!!! It was planned to happen as a way of weakening the American culture. During Bush’s reign they thought they were ready to make a union of Mexico, the USA and Canada and unite them with once currency, the Amero. Lou Dobbs, then on CNN, reported on it early. People rose up against it and it was squashed, but Lou became a non-person for reporting it. Watch the video and read the article below. Open your eyes and ears!

Love is all there is to talk about

Love is all there is to talk about. It is the only thought that we can share with God. It is the only thought that goes beyond thought and connects us to Reality, which is all-encompassing Love with no opposite. In our dualistic world of infinitely important persons (sic!) “love” is usually attachment. It means that I see something in you that I really want or need and you see something in me that you really want or need, so we attach to one another and feed off each other! Real Love is not personal just as God is not personal, the real God, that is, not the Biblical Jehovah who is a man-child of a person, choosing a few special people and cursing all the rest, throwing temper tantrums like destroying the world, then repenting of it saying, “Oops. I shouldn’t have done that. Here’s a rainbow for you to show I won’t do that again.” Even the “love” mentioned in the New Testament (as in 1 Corin. 13) is still dualistic because the Bible cannot see beyond dualism. There is always an “I–Thou” relationship, never a joining. In true love, the lovers are One. They are One Love in two illusory bodies and they light the way for the true reunion that must happen; the bringing together of each piece, each broken shard of the One Son of God who is seen splintered here in this illusory universe, having forgotten he is Spirit, believing he is a body, subject to time and feeling lack. He tries to connect to other bodies who also have forgotten they are Spirit and experience lack. This is attachment, the broken son of God’s substitution for the all encompassing Love he truly is. Attachment doesn’t satisfy and if people marry with it they get tired of marriage and divorce.

So how do we find this real “Love?” First we would need to acknowledge, as does ACIM, that this Love is our natural inheritance and our true Self, that we are a part of God’s radiant loving light, from which we can never be separated. We have erected barriers to the awareness of Love’s Presence. The biggest barrier we erected is the WORLD!! ACIM says that the dreaming Son dreamed up this world as a place God could enter not! The body is his ultimate citadel against God! But this illusory world can be de-constructed. Every time I look on another and see that what is in his best interest is also in mine, a little light has come to us. I begin to find that if I refuse to make opinions about you that more light comes. As that light comes I begin to feel Love when I am in your presence, a Love which comes to both of us. In that moment my barriers are down and Love’s Presence comes into my remembrance. It joins you and I as One Spirit in two illusory bodies. The bodies are silly things. The Love is all important. This Love we share with God and remember for all our brothers. Love is all there is to talk about!

None but the lonely heart

None but the lonely heart

By Joseph Shore

(This story is fictional in form but factual in Truth. It is constructed from actual events I have experienced and actual situations I have encountered while working in deliverance and healing. Any resemblance to any historical person is purely coincidental)

It was about 4:00AM when I received that call that you never hope to get.  I was half-asleep when I answered the phone but was propelled to full alertness as I listened to the voice of one of my eighteen year old students hysterically pleading with me for help. Her mother had just committed suicide in a most graphic way. She had jumped off the Second Narrows Bridge that connects Vancouver with North Vancouver and plummeted hundreds of feet to the inlet below. I tried to calm Giada over the phone. Her parents were divorced and her father was currently in Europe. The grandparents had passed away and she was an only child. She was all alone. She told me that she was in her house and that the police were there. I told her that I would get in my car and be right over.  Giada lived in West Vancouver, normally about a 45 minute drive for me. But at this hour I drove my big Cadillac like a madman and reached her house in 20 minutes.  The police questioned me and wanted to know why I was there. About that time Giada came running out of the house and hugged me for dear life. She explained that I was her teacher and she had asked me to come.  I took her inside and tried to find a private place away from the police where we could talk. I made her some tea and sat her down in a comfortable chair. She was still semi-hysterical and I needed to calm her down more to be able to talk to her.  She continued to cry and just wanted me to hug her. I hugged her and just held on. In a few minutes she was more able to speak. I asked if her father had been contacted yet in Europe. She said that no one had been able to find him. He was on a private yacht with one of his clients.  I asked her to tell me whatever she wanted to say about her mother. I knew the family. I knew the divorce had been very hard on Giada since she was an only child. Her mother was Dr. Eva Morin, a clinical psychologist, who had been married to a man, Edward Johnson, a Canadian investor.  It was not a loving marriage. The two were apart more than they were together and they had little in common. Johnson was the kind of man who saw what he wanted and got it. He had met Eva at a socialite party in West Vancouver and fell in love with her. He courted her extravagantly with cruises, fine dining, and extravagant gifts. You might think that a clinical psychologist would know all the tricks but Eva needed loving attention. She allowed herself to fall in love with him and soon they were married. Giada came the next year.  Dr. Morin was a fine clinical psychologist but she had enormous personal problems stemming from an austere childhood devoid of love. She was born in Milan into a wealthy Italian family deeply rooted in European politics. Her father was a very important man and seemed to be narcissistically devoted to his political career. Eva had been totally unwanted. Her father wanted an abortion but the mother refused. Her father reacted by simply not admitting Eva existed. He never spoke to her or touched her. It was as though she didn’t exist.  When Eva was four she painted a picture that she wanted to give to him. She walked into his study to give him the picture but he was in a meeting and did not even acknowledge her. With a small wave of his hand, he had his body guard remove Eva from the room. Her mother was not much better to turn to. Her mother was an alcoholic and a socialite who had neither interest, sobriety, nor time for Eva. Eva grew up alone and unloved. She never had a hug or a kiss as a child; never had a birthday party or sleepover. She was neglected and severely emotionally abused. Is it any wonder that she became a clinical psychologist? She wanted to cure herself! Unfortunately, her wounding was so deep she had never found the courage to work on it with another therapist. Her colleagues would volunteer but she would push them away. She held all her wounding inside and tried to cover it up by helping others. It was a technique which was not working for her.  Her marriage to Johnson failed for many reasons, not the least of which was that she had never learned to love. She did not know what love really was. The early infatuation that she called “falling in love” did not last long and she found herself as lonely in her marriage as she had been as a child. She and Johnson held the marriage together until Giada was sixteen and then they divorced. Eva threw herself into her work as the only technique she knew for dealing with her deep problems. It was not working.

Giada was my private student in singing and she confided in me about all the problems in the house. I acted as a counselor to her, a role I often took with students and friends. I had been trained in pastoral counseling when I was a minister and I had also been a social worker in New York City where I counseled abused and neglected children as well as their abusive parents.  Counseling is a role that had come with me through life.

First, I made sure that Giada had a friend who could stay with her until her father could be located. Giada was 18 and would surely inherit the house, but what would her life be like all alone unless her father came back into her life?

The police finally left and Giada began to calm down a little bit. “It was all his fault, you know?”  I thought she was referring to her father. “No, not him,” she said. “It was all Richard’s fault.”

“Who is Richard,” I asked, wondering if we needed to make a call to another involved party.

“He was my mother’s patient,” Giada said. “And mom loved him.”

Here was a development that Giada had never mentioned to me. “Would you like to tell me what you know,” I asked.

“Of course I am going to tell. I have to tell somebody.”

“OK,” I said. Would you like a glass of water?”

“No,” she said. “I don’t need anything. I am just so glad you are here. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“That’s OK,” I said. “I am glad to be here for you.”

“My mom told me she had fallen in love with one of her patients,” Giada began. “Mom didn’t usually talk about her work with me. We were not really close. I mean, we were pretty much enemies in my teens, until maybe this year. She thawed a little bit.”

“OK, so she thawed a little bit?” I responded.

Giada continued: “I always knew mom was fucked up really bad from her childhood. Her dad never loved her. He wouldn’t even treat her as really there. And I know her mom was no prize either. Poor mom grew up without hugs or kisses, without any emotional support. I always knew she had this hole inside of her. She needed love so badly. I don’t know if she ever really loved daddy, but I sure know that daddy did not love or respect her. It made me feel really badly for them. And there I was caught in the middle and they would take their stuff out on me. It was so unfair. But I didn’t want them to get a divorce and I sure didn’t want mom to kill herself,” Giada said, crying.

After she calmed down, I asked her, “What role do you think Richard played in your mom’s problems?”

“Mom told me that Richard came to her to work on problems just like hers! He had not been loved as a child. When he was little, his parents would not even get a babysitter if they wanted to go out. They would just lock Richard in the closet! ‘Now be good! Mommy and daddy will be back in just a few minutes.’  Shit like that. Mom said his dad was a real piece of work. He thought he was an inventor and was always building things in the back yard. One time he even built a big sail boat and bought a trailer for it. One day he called the family together and said, ‘We are going to take a little sail on the ocean in our new boat. Everybody get in the truck!’ They drove to the ocean, off-loaded the boat and everybody got in. Richard’s dad did not know how to sail. Nobody did. His dad just thought he could figure it out on the ocean. They sailed for three or four hours and a big storm came up with huge waves and rain. Richard’s dad yelled at the family to all get under the tarp that was on deck.  They continued going into the storm and Richard raised his head out from under the tarp and said, ‘Are we all going to die now dad?’ Somehow they managed to get back to port.  Shit like that. Mom said Richard did not know what love was and he wanted to find out.”

“And so was their therapy successful,” I asked.

“Yeah, to a big extent, mom said. Richard began to make real progress. He was really beginning to open up. He started doing nice things for people. He said that he had hated his neighbor for years and didn’t like feeling that way anymore. So he knocked on his neighbor’s door and asked him if there was anything he could do for him! The guy thought it was a stupid joke so he said, ‘Sure. You wanna help me? You can wash my car.’ So Richard did. He washed the guy’s car. His neighbor was so stunned he thought Richard had gone nuts. But it made Richard feel really good. He would volunteer to help out in soup kitchens for the homeless. He was always bringing flowers to mom. NOBODY had ever brought her flowers. I think the roles got changed. Richard had really found something and he was giving it to mom.  She didn’t know what was happening. Richard was doing therapy on her. She would find little ways to get him to come over. Once she turned off the water and broke a pipe so she could ask Richard if he knew anything about plumbing. He came right over and fixed the pipe and mom asked him to stay for dinner. Richard really liked mom and he thought her therapy was really helping him. But mom liked Richard a lot more. She loved him. She was receiving more love from Richard than she had ever received before.”

“So what was the problem,” I asked.

“Well, my mom is 62. She had me really late. Richard was 30. I don’t think it ever occurred to Richard that my mom really loved him. He certainly could not imagine being in love with a 62 year old woman. But my mom was changing inside. She was a lot nicer to me and we actually started being friends. She stopped thinking of herself as being old. She really started to live for the first time because of the love she was getting through Richard. It was more like the love was there when Richard came and she just absorbed it like a dry sponge. I mean, she actually was happy in the morning and that had never happened.  She would hum little tunes around the house and work in her garden. She would play with the cat and she never paid any attention to him before! It was like she was really changing! Then she asked me one night, ‘What would you think of having Richard for a step dad?’ I said ‘WHAAAA?’ Then she stepped back and said, ‘Oh well, it was just a hypothetical question.’ But it was pretty obvious that she was in love with him. I didn’t see anything wrong with that. Mom deserved love after all she had been through. And I didn’t see anything wrong with a 62 year old woman loving a 30 year old man! Like, it happens, right?”

“It can happen,” I said.

“Right. Well mom was really happy. Richard would come over to dinner and tell us all about the people he had just helped and how good it made him feel. Mom would just sit there beaming at him and thanking him for sharing. She began to do loving things for Richard too. She knew his brothers and sisters were also really fucked up so she volunteered to counsel them for free! It made her feel good to do that and she brought that home to me. We began to have really wonderful talks. She spologized for not being a better mother to me, and she began to cry. She never cried before. I cried too and we just sat there in front of the fireplace crying together. God how I loved my mom right then,” Giada said as she began to cry again. She was sobbing, almost uncontrollably. I asked her if it were OK if I hugged her. She nodded yes and I hugged her in my arms as though she were a child.  When she had calmed I asked her, “Where did the problem come in for your mom and Richard?”

“Richard began to sense that mom loved him. At least that’s what mom said. At first he was just surprised and startled but then he began to feel uncomfortable. He started to cancel his therapy appointments for funny reasons, like his car kept having trouble just before an appointment or he would come down with a cold and just not want to come. Mom is a good therapist and I am sure she saw what was going on but she wanted Richard. She loved him as best as she knew how to love. You can’t criticize that. She could visualize a great relationship with Richard but Richard was hung up on the age thing. If mom had been 30 years old I am sure they would have gotten married and been really happy. But she wasn’t thirty and she was looking at love in a wholly different way than Richard. He was still looking for young chicks with big boobs who liked to screw, even though he was learning about another love by helping people. Richard hadn’t put the big picture together yet. Mom got sort of desperate. She would break something in the house and ask Richard if he could fix it. Richard would say he was too busy. She would ask him over to dinner and he would say he already had plans. And all this time my mom was still being faithful to her pledge to counsel Richard’s family for free. She never once tried to use that to try to manipulate Richard. She just suffered. Gradually she started to change back to the old sad mom. She wasn’t happy anymore in the morning. We wouldn’t talk at night. We started to fight. She would criticize me for my choices in boyfriends, what I wore, or the way my room looked. One night she was laying into me and I just starting crying very hard. I just blurted out, ‘Why don’t you go talk to Richard and tell him how you feel about him?’ She stopped still and just looked straight ahead for a minute and then left my room and walked out of the house. I heard the garage door open and her car pull out, and that is the last I ever saw of my mom.”

Giada was now sobbing harder than ever.  I comforted her as best I could.

The police came back and questioned me again in my involvement with the family. I asked them directly if the body had been recovered yet and if they had any information about what took place after Eva left her house. They answered that yes the body had been recovered and was in the city morgue awaiting identification. I asked them if that had to be done by Giada. They replied that usually a relative would need to make the ID but since Dr. Morin was well known clinically, one of her colleagues could do it. I prevailed upon them to call the counseling center where Eva worked and request that one of her colleagues indentify the body and release it to a local mortuary. Apparently, after Dr. Morin had left the house she drove to the apartment of Richard Langley where she roused him from sleep, demanding a meeting with him. According to Langley she blurted out that she loved him deeply and wanted to be with him the rest of her life. His reaction was one of shock and disgust. He said something like, “You woke me up in the middle of the night to dump shit like this on me?” He had no compassion for her and certainly could not envision marrying her. He told her to get the hell out of his apartment and go sleep it off!! Apparently, that was more than she could take. She drove her car to the Second Narrows Bridge, parked it and jumped.  When she did not return home Giada called the police. They had traced the car parked on the bridge to Dr. Morin and had come to the Morin house to investigate. Shortly thereafter a witness had called in a report of seeing a woman answering to the description of Dr. Morin jumping off the bridge. It was about this time that Giada called me and I arrived on the scene.

Now there were some practical things that I had to do. I asked Giada if she knew where her mother kept her check book and bank records. She took me to her mom’s dresser drawer where bank records were found.  I showed them to the police. Apparently Eva had been thinking of suicide earlier because she had made her banking accounts into joint accounts with Giada. The house and all its possessions had been signed over to joint ownership with Giada. There was no will. Giada was the sole owner of the estate and we could now plan for a funeral service. The checking account had over $300,000 in it and other accounts held much more. Giada could just write a check for the funeral. I explained all this to her. It was now 6:00AM but she could not sleep. We sat up together. At 10:00AM one of Eva’s colleagues, Dr. Lawrence Fogel, identified the body and we asked for it to be released to Park Lawn Mortuary in West Vancouver.  Giada’s father had been located in Morocco but declined any interest in returning to Vancouver! There I was, with an eighteen year old girl, planning a funeral for her mother. The family’s friends and Eva’s colleagues were notified and a simple funeral was conducted two days later. I road with Giada in the  limo to the funeral, burial and back to her house. The family doctor had prescribed sleeping medication for Giada but I also stayed over with her. She was just about to take her meds when she asked me, “Did I kill my mother? After all she just did what I told her to do.” Her face was full of pain and the tears were welling up again.

“No. It was not your fault. Your mother had been thinking about ending her life a long time. The cause of her pain was in her early life and she had carried around those past hurts her whole life.”

She began to cry. “Is my mother in hell now? I mean, we were never religious but I always heard that suicides go to hell.”  She burst into inconsolable tears. I thought to myself, “Dear God what am I to say to her now?” My inner voice said, “Stay in your compassion for her and you will be guided in what to say.”  I put my hand out to see if she wanted touch. She grabbed it with a desperate grip. “Do you want me to hug you,” I asked?  She nodded yes and I hugged her like a loving father does with a frightened child. Then I told her of people I have known who died and came back to tell of a life after death. One of the people was Sandra Rogers, a nurse, who had tried to kill herself. She was surprised to find herself out of her body as a spirit in another dimension of spirit. Instead of being condemned she was surrounded by Divine Beings who helped her to see her life fully. She came back to life and became a very loving, wiser person.

“But my mom is not coming back,” she said.

“I know. But it may give you comfort to know that people who kill themselves out of pain and confusion are not met in the afterlife with judgment. We can pray for your mother’s spirit to find peace. Would you like us to do that?”

Giada nodded yes. I closed my eyes and extended my mind into Spirit, inquiring of my guides about the soul of Dr. Eva Morin who had just passed over. Giada knew about my work in Spirit. We had discussed it in the course of our time in lessons.  The message I got was, “inquire again when she asks you.” This was sort of a cryptic message but I tried to stay true to it. I advised Giada that it would be good for her to sleep now. “In your sleep you can pray for your mom.” I really did not know what that meant. She took the sleeping meds and within an hour had managed to go to sleep. I sat up. I did not feel it was right for me to sleep.  After about three hours I was just beginning to nod off when I heard Giada’s voice say, “Mom? Mom?” I quickly came to her bed side. Giada was sitting up looking at the ceiling. “There was a woman here all shining and dressed in white. I thought she was mom but the woman said she was an angel. She asked us to pray for mom. Will you help me?” That was my cue. I extended my mind into Spirit once again and this time I was met by golden orbs of Light who I knew to be angels. They said, “Look there. She is down there.”  I looked down from the spirit dimension I had gone into and saw a dark layer that we call the Astral level.  There I saw her mother’s soul wrapped in layers of a dark substance. I asked two of the angels to take me there and in that instant we were there. She was surrounded by malicious spirits who enjoyed the state she was in. But at the sight of the golden orbs with me they fled. She was in a fetal position, rocking back and forth, saying something over and over again. I asked the angels to let me hear what she was saying. Over and over again, she repeated the words, “Nothing good will ever happen for me ever again.” I was filled with such pain, the angels had to sustain me. “Help her,” I shouted to them. They conveyed to me telepathically,” Call in the missionary angels to help.” I did not know who they were at that time, but I had faith and called for them. Instantly that spirit space was filled with the most amazing Light Beings I have ever seen. It was their job to rescue lost souls from the hell minds had made. In the deepest part of hell, no souls are alone. These angels are there, trying to turn their gaze upwards to the Light. As I stood in their presence I also had hold of Giada’s hand. “Pray for your mom right now,” I screamed. These divine Beings moved into that Astral layer as though it were not there. They unwrapped Eva’s soul from that bondage. As they did Eva’s eyes opened and all the Light of Heaven moved into her soul, washing out all of that pain and illusion. A great smile came to her face. Down below Giada screamed, “I love you mom. GO, GO, GO. You will find what you have always been looking for.”  Those amazing Beings took her under each arm and ascended with her. Giada saw her too as she ascended and we both gave thanks. As I came back to Giada’s bedside, all her tears were gone. There was just the same bright smile that I had seen on Eva’s face.  “My mother is in heaven,” she exclaimed. Words failed me. I just cried tears of gratefulness, for in the darkest hour for both Giada and her mom, Love had come at last to show its presence. All pain had been wiped away as easily as a breeze disperses a little cloud. Love truly is all that is real. Everything which is of fear and pain is an illusion which confused minds have miscreated. Love truly is present. It is our natural inheritance. The pain and confusion we miscreate on earth cannot harm us in truth. Only Love is real and nothing real can be threatened. Nothing unreal exists in truth. We are truly as God created us. No cloud of illusion can be left to obscure the truth of God’s creation.

In the days that followed this great event of ascendance Giada came to peace within herself. Her father returned from Morocco and begged for her forgiveness. The angels had touched him as well. They eventually sold the big house and moved into a smaller house in the interior of British Columbia. Giada has entered Nursing School and her father works at home.

Amazing are the works of peace and blessed are they who know Love’s Presence.

“Knowledge” verses Belief. What is the difference?

“Knowledge” verses Belief. What is the difference?

“Knowledge” (Gnosis) is inner awareness. It contains its own validation. No external validation is needed. Once you have an inner experience of something and “Know” it, you have no need for words or beliefs. Beliefs are always in another and a lot of words are required. Knowledge is always inner experience and no words can do it justice. Are we there? Are we seeing this? If you believe in the Nicene creed, what good is it? You are just a parrot. But if someone said to me, “I have inner experience of the Nicene Creed,” I would say, “Alright, let me see by your light that this is so.” Now today, people have a lot of different beliefs than were common in 19th century society. But they are still just beliefs. They are just opinions. You may be willing to fight for them, but what does that tell you? True Gnosis always joins minds together! So if you are a Spiritist and you affirm reincarnation, it is because reincarnation is inside your experience. If you just “believe” then it becomes a point of argument and Spiritists and Spiritualists have been arguing over it for two centuries!! But it is not a worthwhile discussion! Spiritualists say that reincarnation has not been proven by science! Big deal! Whose science are we talking about? If you had asked Dr. Ian Stevenson (a psychiatrist) about reincarnation he would have said that now in the 21st century a reasonable man can accept reincarnation. But accepting it as a “belief” or a point in a creed means nothing! Unless you experience the truth of reincarnation within your own Gnosis it is meaningless! But if you get the Truth of what the Course says when it declares, “Trials are but lessons that you failed to learn presented once again, so where you made a faulty choice before you now can make a better one, and thus escape all pain that what you chose before has brought to you. 2 In every difficulty, all distress, and each perplexity Christ calls to you and gently says, ‘My brother, choose again.’ 3 He would not leave one source of pain unhealed, nor any image left to veil the truth. 4 He would remove all misery from you whom God created altar unto joy. 5 He would not leave you comfortless, alone in dreams of hell, but would release your mind from everything that hides His face from you.” (ACIM T.31.VIII.3-6) If you really get that inside, then you will KNOW reincarnation as a FACT, not a belief. Most religions start out with someone who KNEW something (Gnosis) but degenerate into beliefs for others who have not had the inner experience. In that stage, religion is harmful. I write here (for the 30 or so people who respond to my posts) out of what I KNOW inside, and I don’t care if you believe me. If you can see my light, if you can see your own light, you will know. Namaste

Joe at Johns-1a

The Peace that Stays

Peace is here…within. It can be found. It has not been lost to the Mind which God created. It can be covered up and overlooked, but it cannot be lost. When the mind joins with the heart in quiet, Peace comes. It comes in every moment the mind remembers a love not of this world. It is here in Christmas because we ask the Prince of Peace to come at least this one time of year, and he is faithful. He comes into the minds of his brothers. He came very early to you. As a child when you so looked forward to Christmas, when everything sparkled with innocence and expectation, when you decorated the tree, when you made candy with your mother, when you loved your pets just a little more and gave them treats, when you opened your presents and were overcome with joy. The Prince of Peace delighted in delighting young hearts and minds at Christmas time. But this Christmas Peace is available all year long. You remember it during those times you sat on your mother’s lap and felt so comforted and loved. You remember it from the love of your pets. They looked you in the eye and made you remember a Love that is not of this world, and Peace was there. As you grew older, Peace did not age, but was there in calm reflection of the good in all things, and the blessing itself of your life. Peace has always been there. It has always been the Truth of you. It never knew any illusion about you, but always saw you as God created you. And it is waiting for you tonight both to remember and to pass it on to a brother who has forgotten it and thinks himself alone and abandoned. Love you brother and awaken the Peace within him that you may know it better yourself. The Christ child is here within. He is you as God created you and must forever be. Nothing God created tarnishes or fades. Only the world that is passing away knows such illusions. Let not this Peace pass away from your mind, but stay in it, even as illusions come and go, Peace stays.

When Jesus came……

When Jesus came……

During my years with medium David LeBaron at his little Spiritualist church in Seattle, nothing was more stunning in seance than the materialization of Jesus. David LeBaron was a great physical medium. That means that spirits could manifest physically through him. Sometime they only partially manifested as a gaseous form, but other times they manifested as solid as you or me, and in that form I have walked arm and arm with them in a partially lit seance room. One year I was going through a painful lesson. David knew I had to go through it but he loved me and wanted to ease my pain if he could. He underwent two weeks of meditation in order to manifest a High Master named Adriotis of Atlantea. One Sunday afternoon in seance, David’s Spirit guide named Hilda, called me to come up to the cabinet where David sat in trance. She said that this High Master was coming through for me. He materialized as solid as a brick, wearing robes made of light. Lights flashed all over him as we walked around the room arm in arm. He gave me assurance that I would get through this painful ordeal and that there was a divine plan for me which I would still fulfill. Then his physical body became gaseous and disappeared through the ceiling.

As impressive as that was, something else happened that same year in Sunday afternoon seance that would top it. It was Easter. The week before, David had prepared us that Jesus might materialize to us in seance because he usually came every Easter. That was my first Easter with David and the church in 1994. We were not long into the seance before Hilda told us that “the Master” was coming. He materialized semi-solid in flowing white robes. I cannot over-emphasize the impact that this had on all of us. We were all brought up into a higher dimension that was so loving, we were possessed of love for one another and for the Master. He let us come to him and feel his robe. It was made of light but it still had texture. As we felt it, we could feel the pattern of it, where there were stitches. He spoke in ways that Spiritualists will understand. He said that he did not die for our sins. He said that He agreed to go to the cross to show us that death does not exist and that we are made of spirit to live forever. His presence inundated us with his Love. His voice was so loving, so calm, so assuring, we lost all sense of human lack or anxiety. Another reason I remember it so well was because, as he manifested and spoke to us, David was permitted to awaken from trance and join us as we talked to him. There we were, his sheep, having gentle conversations with him. And then he said that he would see us again and dematerialized. David went back to his cabinet and tried to go back into trance but could not. We all just sat there, immersed in Love, talking to one another. This experience showed to me the heights of Spiritualism and Spiritism. It showed that God and us are not separate. We are not in truth different from Him. We are cut from His cloth. We are emanations of God and we are here remembering who we are.

I was with David for three more Easters. Each time, Jesus came.

Remembering You

Remembering You

There was a time when I was filled with wonderment and peace; a time in which all things were possible, all hopes held, all miracles accepted, and Love knew its name in every word we spoke. We glided together through a wonderland of nature filled with peace and majesty and saw our souls reflected in beauty. Each wood duck showed your glory; each Mallard but spoke of your grace. Arm in arm we shared the beauty and wonderment of Love’s Presence in a May garden, in a time that so kindly stopped for us. Have we ever left? We are still there in that quiet moment. I know we will never leave it, for those moments were real and eternal. They are ours to revisit anytime we need to know Truth and Love. A field of daffodils, on quiet waters, a still vastness, and so much more that words cannot speak, we shared in a few days in May at Burnaby Lake. And now I am still filled with wonderment and peace. It is still a time when all things are possible, all hopes held, all miracles accepted, and Love knows its name. The changes of the seasons will not affect the Lake or foul the peace that lives there. Changes come, but Peace and Love stay. The ducks and geese will still be waiting for us to feed them. The sky will still welcome the marsh wrens and swallows in their swirling flight. The beavers will still be in their den and vastness will still caress its feathered creatures and flowers, leaves and bees, its creatures of the lake who come forth from such immensity. We will always be there and Love will always be Present. I am haunted by such grandeur.