September 19, 2016
Steve is not sure whether I want to channel, or not. But can I not be ambivalent, myself? Perhaps his perception is correct. He has not slept well; this is perfect, for channeling, because if anything particularly interesting ensues, here, it is probably me, not him!
Steve knows from his website stats that people persist in reading my journal; or, at least the introduction to it. Fewer, apparently, read any of the few entries we have accessible, now. Should I bring back all the old ones? Perhaps. The person who was hounding Steve has kept a respectful distance for some time. If he continues to do so, perhaps I will see fit to channel entries from time-to-time. I think my writing was getting popular there, for awhile. But then again, I wrote the original of "A Christmas Carol," with Mathew's contributions. Mine was the Victorian sensibility; and mine was the occult elements, and the spirituality. The social concern reflected our joint compassion for the downtrodden and the less fortunate. Mathew's was the crispness of writing (obviated by Dickens when he copied it over and revised it to his liking), and the humor. A winning combination! Dickens was never able to even come close to this "one-hit wonder," again. Wonder why...
You will find the evidence for that, very strong evidence, if not final proof, in our book, "Mathew Franklin Whittier in his own words." And it is also my book, because I have located and pushed into Steve's reach much of the evidence for it, as I did very recently with an anonymous anti-slavery tract from 1856 that Mathew wrote, which suddenly showed up for sale on Ebay. It was $75, a huge sum for Steve and for most people, for that matter. As soon as he felt sure it was Mathew's, he purchased it. Then, after that, he found the evidence linking it to Mathew's other work, a pet phrase, "go it." Mathew had used it in his published works as early as 1843. Afterward, I gave Steve the thought-impressions that the seller actually had it on consignment from an older man who was in a particular circumstance where his wife was urging him to sell off some of his collection. He didn't want to, but to appear to be complying with her request, he put it up for sale, on consignment, with this Ebay seller at an exorbitant price, assuming it wouldn't actually sell. But he didn't count on the original author, reincarnated, spying it there! (With his astral wife's help, that is.) Who would suspect that?
But, I digress.
Regarding the current U.S. election, the Hindu sages spoke of three cosmic energies, "tamas, rajas, and satva." Tamas is ignorance, brute force, and such. Rajas is the fighting spirit, violence, and cunning. Imagine, say, a "cave troll" from Tolkien's works, against a ninja. Satva is consciousnss, conscience, purity. Your society has lost any reverence or understanding for purity, as a value. The idea has been subverted--primarily by organized religion--to be in league with judgmentalism, and with obedience to rules. Or, with regard to outward appearances. Reality is inward. If you focus on what's outward, and give it the weight and meaning of what is inward, you err. If the love of a homosexual couple is pure, then this is far more spiritual than the hatred of a bigot who wishes to harm them. Why? Because reality is essence; essence is internal; appearance and form are external. Appearance is unreal, a "show." At best, if it is lined up with the internal reality, it becomes a sign. At worst, it is a disguise, if it doesn't line up with the internal reality, which is the only reality.
If a man loves his wife because she is young and beautiful, and then abandons her in her middle age for another young and beautiful woman, then he loved only the outward appearance. He did not love his wife, at all. (Dickens did this, by the way. He was not a spiritual man. He could not possibly have originated "A Christmas Carol," by himself. As Steve would say, it would be like a donkey with a lion's head--impossible.)
Steve loves me even though I have no outward body, at all! He remembers my mind, my heart and essential personality, so vividly, that he loves me for who I am, sans body. Now, I am 200 years old (having been most recently born in 1816); and I am perpetually in my 20's. Both. But he can feel me with him, now; the richness of my presence, the "fullness" of being with me, as he says; and he doesn't care. He has found me, that's all that matters.
Nuts? Nuts to you! ;-).
Would a Victorian talk like that? Oh, the "bad press" that "Victorians" and "Victorianism" got! They thought us prudes. Do you know, that a true Victorian believed that marriage was made in heaven, and was spiritual, not legal? So when true soul-mates come together, they are married, whether in the eyes of Society, or no. And they naturally may choose to express that intimacy in love-making. Prudish? No, we were spiritual, dears.
So long as the cart does not get put before the horse, you see. Or disconnected from the horse. It is the "horse" of spirituality which matters; whatever gets pulled after it is fine. It is the icing on the cake; just, don't try to eat a whole plate of icing, you'll get sick.
What else should we talk about...Steve has to feed Gwendolyn, his black cat, so we will take a break. And Gwendolyn has the sweetest personality, though she is smart and can be quite mischievous. Steve sometimes calls her "Miss Sauce." That she is black means this much--she has black fur. Quite a luxurious coat, actually!
Being partly oriental, she is a bit "fey" and does see me, sometimes. I have told Steve, not clearly--she sees a hazy outline, like heat waves coming off a hot car. She finds me interesting, but she is quite used to me, by now.
Steve keeps wishing our communication was better. But we have been married 6-1/2 years, and it is better. He just doesn't see the progress, is all. If you encounter my journal and read the opening page, you are reading something Steve and I channeled in late 2011. We have gotten much more proficient at it, since then. But don't we always judge by the worst examples, when our minds are resisting something? It is human nature (alas, for human nature!).
Will our book, "Mathew Franklin Whitter in his own words," ever be finished? This is for future generations. It matters little whether it is completed, now, when so few are willing to read it. In the future, it will be eagerly embraced. Just the detective work alone will be incentive enough, for people whose minds are not resisting like a team of stubborn horses! What a story it is...and it will, I tell Steve, someday be made into a film. What will they look like, those actors who portray us? Will they be able to capture the magic of our relationship--birds of a feather, and peas in a pod? The only one who understood me; and I, the only one who understood him--in the whole world? With us being physical opposites--me short, him tall--and social opposites, with him from a poor farm family, and me from an aristocratic one--but spiritually like one mind, and one heart? I think they will "grok" it.
Love to each and all,
P.S. Steve feels increasingly certain that the piano piece I first played for him, when he kept thinking to himself, that morning in my family's parlor, "How wonderful she is! how wonderful she is..." was, in fact, "The Great Jehovah is Our Awful Theme," by Handel. (You will understand, of course, that Mathew grew up in a Quaker household, without music.) Steve is learning the introduction, just as I used to play it, which he can remember (because, of course, he often requested it after we were married). If he ever gets good enough to record it properly (he gets nervous while recording), we may present it here in my journal. For now, here is an orchestral and choral version: