November 3, 2017
Steve is so tired, now, in the evening, when we have a little time to channel. In the mornings, he is trying to digitize all of his past-life journalistic work from 1831. So this is the time we have, and we will make this a quick entry.
Steve saw a beautiful testimony on TV from a wife about her marriage, this evening, and it got him thinking about ours. He thought I might want to comment on it, that is, what makes it worth it under such difficult circumstances, and I would like to say something, very briefly.
First I want to start by explaining exactly what we have. From my point of view, I have everything except physical sensation--and I have even that second-hand, through his mind, if he permits it and conditions are favorable. I have the idea in his mind that arises from physical sensations, if that makes sense. That is how I can "taste" the wine I have picked out for us, when he sips it. I can't explain further. (That is not quite it, but, this will have to do.)
I see his thoughts (also because he has given me "carte blanche" permission), and I even see a little ways into the future for him. But this only means it is fully a relationship for me; I have all the elements. More important is what Steve has.
He has very little by way of tangibility. I cannot responsively "knock" or signal him. I cannot touch him physically. With great effort, I can touch him as a sort of electrical sensation. I can leave the impression of a tingly "kiss" on his skin, though he has to learn to recognize what it is and distinguish it from a regular itch! Otherwise it is hardly worth the effort of building up that electrical charge over, say, the course of a day! None of his five senses register me--and the physically-incarnate mind is trained, from infancy, to rely on the senses. A thing is judged to be unreal if it doesn't register on any of the five, you see. So then Steve's mind also disbelieves, or is inclined to do so.
He gets intuitively-felt presence; he can get prompting, "yes or no," or "on or off." With this, we first learned to communicate. He can also get thought-bursts from me; but this is trickier, because when conditions are favorable, he can discern them fairly easily from the thoughts that arise naturally from the depths of his own subconscious mind; but when conditions for contact aren't so favorable, he can easily get confused. He can think I am recommending he eat a pizza for lunch, when it is just his own whim to eat one, for example.
Now, how can he build a relationship on such a sparse basis? Because you know what a relationship consists of. Trust and compatibility and interaction and shared thoughts, and touching, and shared experiences, meeting challenges together, and so-on.
The answer is that Steve has to fill in a lot of the gaps as best he can; and to that extent, it is an imaginary relationship. But it is an imaginary relationship that he knows is real, if that makes any sense. It would not be possible if we weren't soul-mates, and if we didn't go back hundreds of lifetimes. Because on a deeper level, we have that rapport. Even if he just can touch me with his mind, as felt presence, on a deep, deep level he knows who it is he is touching. And that he loves me. He has learned a great deal about the historical Abby, also, and that helps. But at the end of the day, he KNOWS me. You understand, I'm sure you do. He KNOWS me, and that is enough. If your lover was in China for a year, and you had a bad phone connection such that he could hear you, but you couldn't hear him except maybe for a word or two once in awhile--so that the relationship primarily consisted of you talking away to him--wouldn't you still love him just the same, and consider yourself a couple just the same? He would get his turn to talk when he got back! And that is precisely what Steve says--how he would wish to just shut up and listen to me talk! So when he comes over here, it will be my turn. (But I will only want to silently gaze into his eyes...)
Love to each and all,
Love to each and all,