November 14, 2016
Steve was just remarking to me, that he realizes that during the entire course of the recent U.S. election, he didn't change one single person's mind. Meaning, of those he tried to explain things to, personally.
Think about the times in your life, when your mind has been radically changed by someone, or something. They are few and far between, aren't they? I'm not talking about being introduced to a new ice-cream flavor. I mean when your mind was set about something, and someone actually changed it by something they said, or did.
World events are, from my perspective, here, vast sweeping movements of energy; and energy is thought, and feeling. The physical world is like the foam moving at the top of the waves. Now, any of you who have kept up with my journal, may recall that when I took a hiatus some months ago (Steve can't remember how long it was), I said the world was heading into a conservative era.
I don't want to scare you, but, all civilizations come to an end, and then rise like the phoenix--this is the pattern since ages. A civilization lasts as long as it remains spiritually robust. Fruit ripens and falls to the ground when it begins to rot. (Okay, Steve, now you may introduce the analogy you are thinking of.)
We were walking the beach yesterday, where Steve loves to watch the waves bulge, rise, crest and crash down on the sand. Over and over, with countless variations. And he said to me (he talks out loud to me, there), "In the history of the world, no wave has ever failed to crest and then crash."
I am giving Steve the analogy of a doctor taking a patient's vital signs. This last election was the application of the doctor's stethoscope--and the patient is very, very ill.
So Steve is worried--each conscious, caring, thinking person is worried. What, exactly, should his response be? He does not want to be cowardly; he does not want to disobey our Guru's instructions to stay out of politics. He does not want to make things worse; but can he stay aloof from what may be to come?
He is aware that this happened to us when we were Mathew and Abby, in the late 1830's, when Andrew Jackson became president. What happened was that Jackson ruined the economy, which in turn helped to ruin our chances as a hopeful married couple. Mathew's business failed, and the bad economy dogged him throughout the five years of our marriage. It ultimately forced me, having tuberculosis, to have to live in a cold, drafty room. So Jackson killed me, in that lifetime, indirectly.
I know Steve will be brave, and he will do the right thing. We have a gift to leave the world. That is the first priority, now. He has to uphold our Guru's teachings, and leave this legacy to be discovered later on, when people are receptive to it. And receptivity is the key. You can't teach people who have their ears stopped up. Steve tried during the election, regarding the election, and seemingly failed. Things have to play out. But when people are receptive, watch out! They will come in great numbers, and eagerly take all you have to give!
Fame is a two-edged sword; and few are they who can ride it successfully, without it gobbling them up! Steve thinks a little fame might be nice; but we are excelling beyond anyone's wildest dreams. When you excel to a certain level, if people start to recognize you, and if they are, indeed, receptive, you don't get a "little fame." In other words, it is "all-or-nothing." So now, we have nothing--and this is best, in the current climate, and with what is to come. We will, as they now say, "fly in under the radar." Why? Because no-one can take us seriously. Steve cannot have an invisible wife; we cannot have written "A Christmas Carol" together; Mathew cannot have written "The Raven" in tribute to me, after I passed. Mathew could not have been the literary hero Steve has discovered him to be, a force behind the scenes in 19th century literature, more talented as a humorist than the great Mark Twain (who was, to Mathew, a member of the next generation, who tended to master the outward style but not express the deeper meanings).
Our presentation is absurd, or has these absurd elements, on the face of it, which prevent anyone from taking us seriously. That is the lock on it, which will insure that we will remain virtually unknown until Society is ready for us. We are hidden from view, by the very magnitude and quality of our work. And the adamant nature of the human mind insures they will retain that opinion.
Look at the programs on television. You can see the disease in society. What has politics done for us? It has masked the disease, for a time, like a palliative medicine. Steroids have been applied, the rash has subsided; but the disease remains, hidden. Now, the disease breaks forth, and the supply of steroids fails. But nothing has really changed. We would make people aware of the illness, its causes, and its cures--but no-one is taking us seriously.
We, also, grow in wisdom. Look at our attempt in the 1830's--"A Christmas Carol." We imagined that you could just walk vast numbers of readers (or, attendants at a play) through a conversion experience, complete with the underlying metaphysics--that's right, the original of the story, which I wrote, was like the movie "Ghost," containing all accurate metaphysics and occult references--and people would be transformed, and Society with them. Naive, wasn't it? My idea was to put this on, as a play. Steve has found several of my other stories--which he had published about 10 years after I died, under my initials, "A.P." In each story, or play (because he thinks many were originally plays), I took up a different social cause, or championed a different unfortunate. I would have fit right in with the progressive contingent today, you see. We wanted to transform society, and "A Christmas Carol" was our best effort. It would have gone largely unnoticed, except that Mathew gave it to a superstar, who watered it down and used it for his own purposes (and his own purse).
The watered-down version contained enough of the original in it to sweep the world. You are now reading the somewhat-accurately channeled thoughts of the person who did that. But what did it teach people? Whom did it help? Did it transform Society, as it was intended? Perhaps it made people think of charity for a few weeks during a certain time of the year. Perhaps it came to stand for grouchiness, or miserliness, in the character of "Scrooge." A thousand spin-offs were created from this idea--which was hardly the central message. But maybe it did some good. It was also rash and overly-idealistic. It attempted to force, or trick, people into changing; when in actuality, this is a long process. And the message bounces off the very people who need to hear it, most.
So you who think you know this classic, don't really know it. If you read our book, you will get the "back-story," the context, and the depth of that context. Who I was, who Mathew was, what our idealism was, together, and how we could have produced that work. There is no such back-story with Dickens. If you look into his life, he could not possibly have created it. And he certainly couldn't have created the original--the one like the film "Ghost," with all accurate metaphysics.
We can tell people this until we are blue in the face (well, Steve, anyway)--we can lay the entire chain of logic, with all the in-depth historical research, at the public's feet, in our book--and we are ignored, presently, for our trouble. Why? Because people think they already know. It is absurd, they think, to the point of clownishness--to the point that we are to be casually laughed-off, because everyone knows, since childhood, that Charles Dickens wrote "A Christmas Carol." Every advertisement, every solemn scholar, says so.
And what of "The Raven"? It is not so laudable, either; it has its flaws. Although I had taught Mathew everything I knew by way of the metaphysics of death, and life after death--and my mother, of Scottish descent, had taught me well--he could never fully believe it. So he knew, and he had the books, but he couldn't overcome the seeming finality of death, in his heart. My memory was the "bust of Pallas" guarding his "chamber door," that is to say, the door to his mind. But the Raven was the finality of death, which snuck in through the window and seated itself, ignobly, on my head, as it were. We have the background, the depth, for this poem. All Poe could say--but you can read Poe's lame explanation as to how he supposedly came to write it. That Poe wrote this poem--at a time when he wasn't even in grief--is as absurd as Dickens' claim.
And yet, you would dismiss us out-of-hand because Steve, having researched our history in great detail for seven years, concludes that we wrote these things, receiving no acclaim for them whatsoever.
But it is often this way. The person who has the inspiration, is not the one who popularizes it. How often has this happened? And why--because it has to be watered down and made palatable for ignorant Society. Only on rare occasions is it not so--and the film "Ghost" is one of those. It was a powerful-enough love story, that it came through directly. But who has ever heard of Bruce Joel Rubin's later effort, "My Life"? Which is an even more powerful story? Sigh...
That film, "My Life," is, to me, very much like the story of my life with Mathew, except in our case, I was the one who became ill and died. I did transform Mathew--but it didn't start with that lifetime, nor end with it. And it wasn't my ideas, it was my love for him. It is love, dears, which transforms. Never forget this.
Love to each and all,