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Not for the first time, it occurs to me that writing these entries is like sand-painting. But then, all of life is like sand-painting. Yesterday evening, I chanced to have a conversation with a woman who is probably in her late 80's or early 90's, and who still has her marbles, in an assisted care living facility I am assigned to in my current elder-care job. She remarked, "Getting old is not for sissies," which reminded me of something Margaret Craske, a direct disciple of my Guru, Meher Baba, once said: "Getting old is no picnic." I was thinking, this morning, that it was like meeting myself 20 or 25 years into the future; and at that time, I will have a brief conversation with someone, and it will be me, now.

The leader of the online reincarnation group I've recently rejoined, wants to keep philosophy out of the discussions, and focus entirely on science. But how do you keep philosophy out of science? Philosophy is the underpinnings of science, and it permeates and profoundly influences the science that any scientist conducts. I reminded him of Charles Darwin and Alfred Russel Wallace, both of whom studied evolution, but who came out with radically different conclusions, because they started with radically different philosophical assumptions.

Just because the philosophical Materialists and atheists have won the battle, in the 21st century, does not mean they were right, nor that they will prevail forever. It's a phase society is going through.

Nor will Charles Dickens' theft of "A Christmas Carol," or Edgar Alan Poe's theft of "The Raven," prevail in the public consciousness forever. They will have their day, and as Jesus said, they will have had their reward.

Now to the thought which prompted me to write, this morning. Recently, I modified the home page of this website so as to list all six of my e-books, and provide links for their purchase. The list includes my major past-life self-study, its sequel, a book of past-life poetry by myself and my astral partner, Abby, a novel based on my past-life relationship with her, the story of how we reconnected in my present lifetime, and a book I wrote when I was in college, in my late 20's. So far, only one person has looked at them, and that person purchased the novel. Keep in mind (if you haven't looked at the home page, lately) that it is a simple list with a brief description for each. There is no hype in it.*

My first thought was, "It's really true what I've speculated, that people, today, are so jaded by advertising, that they literally cannot part with their money unless they are forceably manipulated into it by hype." In other words, in the marketing war, if you don't use the weapon of hype along with everybody else, you are screwed. But on principle, I refuse to use it. Not as any kind of vow, you understand; it's just unnatural to me, to the point of being repulsive. I can't bring myself to do it.

But then, I had a flash of a thought, as it were, in response. I think it might have been Abby's contribution, as this is the way she communicates--a thought so quick, so subtle, that it flashes past my consciousness almost before I can register it. It has taken me eight years of training to learn to catch them. It's not our most reliable form of communication, since our first, laborious "prompting" method is better. But it's the kind I want to develop, obviously, because if I could get good at it, we could have actual conversations back-and-forth. Just as happened once when I was trying to learn Spanish, on rare occasions I find myself conversing with her in real time, and then the spell is broken.

Anyway, the thought was something she has told me before, about how karma works: "The principle of karma is, 'Then you wanted it, now you don't want it.'" In other words, "Watch out what you ask for, because you just might get it." As the Hindu's explain, the word "karma" simply means "action"--so it means, something set in motion by action. This "train" has been set moving, and because it is really all just one long life, punctuated by birth and death, the train continues along the track and shows up in one's subsequent lifetimes. But situations change, attitudes change, and desires change. In the next lifetime, depending on the ignorance which went into setting the train into motion in the first place, you might not want the thing when it shows up, again. It might not be all it was cracked up to be; or worse. Only that thing which was set into motion with the purest of motives, and the greatest of wisdom, will you still want, when it comes back around.

So I have a great deal of evidence, now, that in my 19th-century life as Mathew Franklin Whittier, I tried very hard to remain anonymous. Mathew wrote almost everything--and I have something like 1,200 of his published works, mostly from newspapers--under dozens of different pseudonyms. And when someone stole one of his works, he didn't try to claim it. He just made wry, disguised comments in subsequent works. Here's the example that came to mind. I never got around to looking for the piece he's referring to, but presumably, it was an imitation of his "Ethan Spike" character.

Gentlemen,--Sir:--I take my pen in hand, to say I'm pretty well--I thank you--all but a bad cold, a great boil on my neck, and some corns on my toes--and hope these few lines will find you enjoin the same great blessin.

I seed that the old-uns got scart abaout my beein away so long, an went an put a piece intew the Transcript--sort of advertisin of me-like. I'm proper sorry that they did it, cos you see, they haint got no eddication to speak on--for though they's as clever, well meanin people as you can skeer up; still, not havin got much skulein, they're what you might call inveterate an onsofistycuffed, so far as larnin is consarned. Perhaps you noticed that a good many of the words was spelt rong. I did, as soon as I sot eyes on the peace.

I have seen Mathew do this quite a few times, and I found the comments he made regarding Dickens and Poe; though you have to see all the other ones, to be able to sniff out his pattern of veiled insult.

But the important thing is, Mathew set this train in motion, over the course of his entire literary career. I can think of only four instances, as I sit here this morning, where he signed with his own name, "M.F. Whittier," or his full initials, "M.F.W." (not counting his first initial, middle initial, or middle name). The question is, were his motives pure? I think he was fooling himself, to some extent. His motives were an admixture of noble and selfish. I think his first wife, his true love, Abby, had admonished him to avoid fame. Her motivation was dedication to early 19th-century Victorianism; and also because she knew he was emotionally immature, and very likely couldn't handle fame. I think he remained true to his promise. That was noble.

But secretly, like all of us, he desired at least due recognition, if not fame. When he was passed over by the literati, he felt deep resentment (I have this documented in his work). What he did, I feel, was to cut off his nose by spiting his face; in other words, he committed legacy suicide. He seems to have sworn his friends to secrecy, insisting that they not mention him in any public talks, nor even in their personal diaries. And he seems to have destroyed all of his personal effects. About 10 or 15 of his letters are preserved in various archives, and I was able to find one on Ebay. I also found one of his personal possessions; but only because it had been (as it appears) a gift to his sister, which finally, by the circuitous laws of karma, has come back around to me.

Now, it appears to be a law of karma, that the efforts you make in this life don't actually bear fruit, for the most part, now. It only seems that they do. It's an illusion. If your efforts appear to bear fruit in this lifetime, what's actually happening is that you are reaping the fruits of your past-life efforts. This is why it takes several lifetimes of effort, in any particular field, to see results.

That means that what I am now experiencing, being ignored by the public despite doing excellent work, is the carry-over of Mathew's determined efforts to avoid fame.

But that, in turn, begs the question of what will happen in my next lifetime. Because I have been trying very hard, for many years, to achieve recognition. Let's be honest--I tell myself I don't want it, but I do. If I write, and nobody reads it, I might as well not have written, except as a personal exercise. The circle of writing isn't complete until people read it, understand it and appreciate it. It's not book sales, per se. It's the number of people who "grok" what you've created.

I often feel that if only a few thousand people "grokked" my work (I think that's how you spell the past-tense of "grok"), I would be satisfied. It doesn't have to be a best-seller; it doesn't have to be millions.

But because I seemingly get no response, this causes me to try harder, and harder, and harder. This is potential energy, building. Potential energy, Abby tells me--meaning, karmic energy--has to go somewhere. It has to manifest. Therefore, these efforts I am making, now, will almost certainly manifest in my next lifetime, or the next one after that, perhaps.

But, will I want it, then? Because Mathew's abhorrence of fame (and Abby's) probably didn't just arise out of nothing. It probably had a past-life history, for them. So you can see the pendulum-swing effect in reincarnation. It means that karma really proceeds with "Now you want it, then you don't, then you do, then you don't..."

That is, until you learn.

In my late teens and early 20's, I studied three primary sources of esoteric teachings, from three Realized spiritual masters: Sri Ramakrishna, my Guru, Meher Baba, and the Persian poet, Rumi. Rumi tells a story, in his "Masnavi," of the peacock that stripped all his feathers to avoid the sin of pride. But that doesn't eliminate pride. The only way to deal with pride, is to retain the feathers, but subdue pride, itself, with the feathers.

It's always dangerous to praise anybody, especially when it comes to the way they handle pride. But I don't think that guitarist Eric Johnson will ever read this. He is a mystic (though he is very shy about it); and he handles fame about as well as anyone I have ever seen. I've seen him in concert several times, and he simply acknowledges applause as a matter of course, and moves on. Often, he quickly calls attention to the other members of the band, or he has a ready quip. Personally, I think he may be the reincarnation of George Frederick Handel. I think I was an organist in Handel's time, and was aware of him, and admired his music, then. I know that as Mathew, in the 19th century, I admired him; and I think it was one of Handel's songs that Abby played for Mathew, as a teenager, which caused him to fall deeply in love with her. So I have a history with Handel.

I could be wrong, admittedly. It's just a hunch. But in any case, in this lifetime, Johnson handles fame, and applause, beautifully. He remains a regular guy. Only a relative handful of famous people can do this; everybody else lets it ruin them. And this takes a lot of mental and emotional effort. Fame is clearly a two-edged sword.

The problem is, while what I would like is "just enough" recognition to know that a few thousand people "grokked" my work, and enough money coming in that I could retire in simple comfort for however many years I have remaining, the quality of my work--and the amount of potential karmic energy stored in it--makes that unlikely. It is going to be "all or nothing." You can get some gauge of the power that Abby and I have been storing up, when you think about the power that was manifested just from two of our stolen works--"A Christmas Carol," where Mathew and Abby were co-authors, and "The Raven," which Mathew wrote out of love for her, after she died. Both of these works (and "A Christmas Carol" was watered down), touched the world. And you ain't seen nothin', yet.

I have reconstituted Mathew's lost legacy; though nobody will be bothered to pay any particular attention to it, now. What if they do? What if your children, or your grandchildren, see in it what you have missed?

And what if I find myself, yet again? The theme music for my former company opens my documentary, along with my company logo, for "Gold Thread Video Productions." You won't see it on the pirated, viral versions on YouTube, but if you go to my home page, here, and watch my own posting of the program, you will see it at the very beginning.** I think, if I ever heard that music, in a future lifetime, it would send thrills of recognition up my spine. That would be the key that unlocks the box. And I would rediscover all my work.

Then, all of it leads back to my Guru. And you have no idea the power which resides, there.

Best regards,

Stephen Sakellarios, M.S.

*As Mathew Franklin Whittier, I wrote against hype in the 19th century, which then was called "fluff." I did not assume a dislike of hype in this lifetime to fit with the historical character I had adopted. I've always disliked it.

**Damn idiot Youtube thieves. One of them got impatient with the slow pace of the titles that follow the logo, and literally sped them up so the music sounds like the "Chipmunks." So much for setting the mood and getting the viewer into a certain "space."


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Music opening this page: "Awaken," by Eric Johnson,
from the album, "Up Close"



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