Updates

7/25/10

Early morning, and there are thoughts flying around like butterflies, not quite settling but wanting to be expressed in some way. There are things that are happening to people--perhaps, surprising numbers of people--which are outside the narrow realm of things that are supposed to be real. There are things many people experience that no-one talks about, and it strikes me that these things run the entire gamut from degrading to elevating, from our private torments to our epiphanies. Anything too far outside what's considered normal is spoken of, if at all, only in confidence to one's closest friend. It is not generally set down, by anyone with a shred of street-smarts, in an online "blog."

Just now, on a quick early-morning walk to the beach (which is a scant two blocks from my rented beach house), I recalled a photo outing at a grave yard, when I became interested in studying the tombstones. I realized that one can sometimes reconstruct a poignant story from the dates listed on the stones. Here, we have a family where five children died in a row before they reached the age of one. Here, we have a tragedy striking an entire family, as they all died on the same date.

Surprisingly often, there was another scenario: Mr. Blackston's wife Emily (shall we say) died in 1924; buried beside her is Mr. Blackston, who died in 1962, almost 40 years later, without, apparently, having remarried. He was, they would say, "faithful to her memory."

It is socially appropriate, if a little weird, to refuse to ever remarry and to remain faithful to one's spouse's memory. We chalk it up to fond attachment.

And in some cases, that's precisely what may have been happening. In extreme cases, occasionally, we read of people who keep the dead body of their spouse in the house with them. Attachment, especially, attachment to that which isn't real, is a recognized spiritual malady. It is akin to addiction. But a key element of addiction is that it involves the unreal. Addiction is addiction precisely because it is an attachment to a substitute. This principle is rarely understood.

Take alcohol. Alcohol addiction is attachment to a substance which gives a poor imitation of spiritual freedom. One refuses to let go of it precisely because it is one's natural state to be spiritually free, and one's own soul knows this deep down. Having tasted the imitation, and having confused the imitation with the reality, one is stuck and becomes mired in an attachment to a substance which ultimately brings disease, degradation and a disintegration of one's career and one's relationships. But the essential driving force is correct--we are meant to be this happy and carefree. Only, the alcoholic has mistakenly identified that state as being drunk. I first realized this when I read of Sri Ramakrishna, who was God-Realized, going out and dancing on the road with a drunk who was passing by, because the drunk's state reminded him of the state of spiritual freedom which he enjoyed.

Now, the same must be true of relationships. Let's return to Mr. Blackston. Let's suppose he was not being faithful to his wife's memory, meaning, that he was not, actually, remaining so attached to his wife's physical body as he remembered it, that he refused to remarry. What was he doing, then? I think he had understood, through study or experience, that his wife was more than her physical body--that when his wife shed her body, she was still very much alive. That she was existing in a dimension that runs parallel to our own universe, but simply having a finer vibratory rate--like a higher radio frequency--and that not only was communication possible, but that interaction was possible. Not only was interaction possible, but sustained interaction was possible.

In short, the relationship need not end.

Fortunately, I don't have to merely speculate about the fictional Mr. Blackston. Recently, the case of Gifford Pinchot, a pioneer in the conservation movement and the 28th governor of Pennsylvania, was brought to my attention. I was told that he maintained a 15-year relationship with a woman who had passed over, speaking with her internally while riding on trains, and so-on. The relationship was revealed in his diary after his passing. After a little internet research, I found the following:

Mysteriously, Gifford Pinchot carried on a secret spiritual love affair with a dead woman, Laura Houghteling, for twenty years after her death due to tuberculosis. He experienced an unusual sense of the divine through his spiritual marriage to Laura Houghteling. After her death, he believed Laura was with God and that he was with them both in holy unity. Laura and Gifford shared the belief that her physical death would only result in a temporary separation here on earth, being reunited later for eternity (Bradley, 1999).

Pinchot's faith in God was never shaken by Laura's death, stating that things didn't always turn out as we wished but that since God allowed Laura to die, it was right. Defying earthly reason, Pinchot recorded in his diary that Laura had come back to be with him just as they expected. Pinchot's diary entries some thirty days and following after Laura's death state that "My lady is very near" (March 18, 1894) and "My darling is with me and I know it already" (April 3, 1894). His diary entries never mentioned Laura's death but only her closeness to him. He wrote that he could hardly help expecting to see her (May 16, 1895) and that she was beautifully near him (June 16, 1899). Throughout his secret inner life with Laura, he rejoiced in his relationship with God. For example, in the latter diary entry above, he wrote, "I can not thank our Father in Heaven enough."

Pinchot studied the Bible, often sharing this time with Laura. On April 22, 1894 he wrote that she spoke to him as he read St. John. God also spoke to him during this reading. Later Pinchot wrote that "In God's sight my Lady and I are husband and wife" (April 22, 1896). Throughout this period Pinchot studied many other books about God, Heaven, and the afterlife in an effort to lift his spiritual awareness to that of Laura's (Bradley, 1999).

This kind of continuing relationship is based on a bond of love, not attachment. Or, I should say, it is probably a continuum--attachment, at the lower end of the continuum, being a selfish clinging to substitutes, while love is a pure, increasingly unselfish bond which does not die because by its very nature, it cannot die. In short, if you love soul-to-soul, physical death represents a change, no doubt, but it does not have to be the end.

One thing I think is fairly obvious. This intelligent, successful man, making significant contributions to society, functioning in all respects, apparently, at a high level, was not so insane as to be imagining a virtual wife for 15 years. It flies in the face of reason and everything we know about psychology, because someone this insane does not function so well for so long. What's happening is that he was more sane than average--he had slipped out the upper end of the bell curve, not the lower end.

Swami Vivekananda, the famous disciple of Sri Ramakrishna (mentioned earlier), said something quite curious. He said that extremes of anything tend to look similar. Just so, we can expect that insanity might look similar, externally, to higher levels of sanity than average. There is actually no term for it in the English language, though I think some have been coined. Maslow spoke of the "self-actualized" man, for example, but the phrase hasn't entered common usage.

I submit that Mr. Pinchot--and our fictional Mr. Blackston and all the men and women found in graveyards that he represents--have not been fooling themselves. It is not something we need to patronize them about--"he's a good chap, but a bit daft where his late wife is concerned." Or, "it helps him cope with his loss, let him be."

Mr. Pinchot kept the relationship to himself. Had he burned his diary--for all we know, he intended to--we would never know of it. How many people are opting to continue relationships like this, where there is a deep soul mate connection? We don't know. No studies have been done, to my knowledge. Studies aren't done on a phenomenon that no-one believes is possible, and which, if admitted, could, in very recent times, land one in a mental institution.

If you have read my previous two Updates (I still refuse to use the word "blog"), you will see that I have entered such a relationship, but by an even more controversial door. I researched my own past-life case, proving it to my own personal satisfaction, while not coming up with enough evidence to satisfy even the kindest skeptic, I would say. It's possible I could have done so if everyone holding the evidence had been cooperative, but that's another story. The trail did, however, lead to my first wife in that past life, and to our reunion, in a relationship precisely like what Mr. Pinchot describes above with his Laura. Why am I going public--and being studiously ignored, it seems--while he had the good sense to keep it to himself? That's a good question. I keep having this feeling that I should share it, because there are people who don't realize this is an option. We are all so deeply conditioned, that even after I had studied afterlife issues and phenomena for years, and even when I began to get some intimations of Abby's existence on the other side (before I knew who she was), still, the thought that an active relationship was possible never entered my mind. I automatically assumed, through social conditioning, that if my soul mate was on the other side, it was just hard luck, and I might as well look for a substitute relationship on this side while I'm here.

It wasn't until I saw a letter she had penned to my past-life personality's sister, that the sense of recognition was triggered. I began crying--not full crying, you know, but the kind of crying you do when you can't quite cry. I felt it trying to come up. I knew this person--and I use the word "knew" in the deepest sense, deeper even than carnal "knowing" (though that was also part of it). Have you seen the movie, "Avatar"? Do you remember when his girlfriend on the planet of Pandora, Neytiri, tells Jake, "I see you"? That's what I felt when I read that letter.

But a few days later, while working (thankfully, I work mainly by myself), listening to a piece of particularly heart-felt music, the feelings surged and spilled out, and I found myself sobbing--the real kind of crying, this time, for someone I'd long forgotten, a grief I'd long submerged. One hundred and seventy years submerged, it turns out. Which makes sense because all this life, from as far back in childhood as I can remember, I've felt it and known it deep down.

If you've had past-life therapy, you'll understand this. Except that in past-life therapy, while it's not uncommon to find someone from a past life living again in your current physical life, it's not so common to find someone this way who is on the other side. At least, it's not much reported.

So, that's it. I've now gone where few can follow me. Even the intrepid Victor Zammit, when I e-mailed him about it and gave him the relevant URL's on my website, responded initially with a row of question marks: "???????????"; but then followed it up with text saying he'd have to study it. I say this not to protest against Victor--I admire his work tremendously--but if a fearless advocate of afterlife studies reacts this way to my experience, as I honestly relate it, what's to be expected of the rest of the population?

Still, I've been very surprised at the reactions from people I've told individually. These are, as you might expect, forward-thinking people. They consider it possible; but one senses that really, deep-down, they think I have probably created a virtual girlfriend. They don't actually want to try to talk to Abby, for example. In short, one gets the impression they respect my right to be outside the bell curve, but they aren't going there with me. One friend, God bless him, honestly tells me he thinks it is probably my own subconscious I am relating to, but he remains a loyal friend nonetheless. Several of his friends are into all kinds of unusual things, he says, so that's nothing new to him. I don't feel patronized by this--I love his honesty.

One of my friends, on the other hand, is having a similar relationship. They believe it.

Publicly, it's a stoney silence. Approximately the same numbers continue to visit this website. Based on my website stats, people do read my Updates--the trend for "blogs" has worked to my favor in that respect. (I would probably get more hits if I labeled it a "blog," but let's pick a more elegant word for the act of sharing one's inner life with the world, okay? How about "sharing"?--"Have you read his sharing for this week?")

I fully expect that about 25% of the people reading this will be like my friends who secretly suspect I'm daft, but affectionately indulge me. Another 25% may be like my friend who is pretty sure I'm relating to my own subconscious mind, but likes me anyway. We don't need to speculate about what the majority will be thinking. We've all been there, so it's best not to judge them. Perhaps 5% will be like my friend who is having the same kind of relationship. They don't need this information, but perhaps they will benefit from not feeling so alone.

The most important percentage, however, is that 5% or 10%, or however large a slice of the pie it is, who could be having this kind of relationship, but who assume, as I did so recently, that it isn't even an option. This is not directed towards those people who would simply hang on because they are emotionally dependent. There is an element of selfish emotional attachment in all relationships--let's be honest about it. But this kind of relationship I'm describing works when there is a bond of love which far outweighs bonds of selfish emotional clinging. It works for soul mates, for what has been called twin flames.⁽¹⁾ For them, I want to get this message out: it is possible.

Have I ever questioned it, myself? Of course. Especially at first.⁽²⁾ But I have little daily "proofs" throughout my day--I see her the way that Neytiri saw Jake in "Avatar". She doesn't think or feel the way I want her to--she's her own person. I know what fantasy feels like. I've done my share of trying to conjur up a soul mate in my imagination, at times in my life when I felt most alone. It lasted an hour or a few hours, or at most a day. I felt drained afterwards--more lonely than before. This is something entirely different. I feel deeply contented. An ancient burden I didn't even know I had, has been lifted. There is an element of imagination in it, as I fill in the gaps between what I can sense and what I can't. But then, there is an element of imagination in all relationships. Most of my earlier relationships, as I tried unconsciously to replace Abby, were 95% imagination. This non-physical relationship is far more substantial. And here is where we fall down in the West--we are so deeply conditioned to believe that substance means physicality. We are taught from infancy to believe that what we can perceive with our physical senses is real.

Let me tell you about social conditioning--this is embarrassing but I want to get this point across, if I do nothing else here. I was raised in a liberal household. I was a child in the 1950's. I was taught not to be prejudiced against black people. Do you know what that means? It means, we are prejudiced but we are going to try not to be prejudiced. So, if I watch my thoughts very carefully--and I have practiced strict self-honesty for going on 36 years now--I see that prejudiced thoughts come flying up out of my subconscious, only to be very quickly batted down by my conditioning--that's right, the conditioning which says, "Don't be prejudiced." As an adult, I know that racial prejudice is bullshit. But there it is. Thankfully, the younger generation is, as a young black lady I spoke with about this said recently, colorblind. They simply don't care.

We are also conditioned to believe that a thing has substance to the extent it can be perceved by the physical senses--only we don't even know that this is conditioning. In Hinduism, you will find God described as Satchitananda--which means, existence (or substance); knowledge (or consciousness); and bliss. The final, non-physical reality is the real Substance. What we perceive with our physical senses is not, actually, real, they say. And physics confirms this. I have no expertise in physics, but I do know that if you look at a table top--the quintessential real thing, on which you can knock your knuckles and feel the pain of doing so--with an electron microscope, it gets stranger and stranger--"curiouser and curiouser". It becomes a foreign landscape of ridges and valleys and boulders, crawling with huge, prehistoric-looking beasts. Where is our real table? Where is our standard of physical reality, now?

Or, as the song accompanying a Sesame Street cartoon said, "Everything comes in its own special size, the thing that makes the difference is where you put your eyes. It looks big when it's close, it looks smaller back a bit; that's about the size of it." (I used to put Sesame Street on the air for a local PBS station--adults should pay more attention to some of the gems that run as short films on Sesame Street.)

My point is that you think what I'm saying is impossible, or downright weird, because of Western social conditioning which says that only physical, material things are real. Just as I didn't even know how much I was conditioned, you, also, don't know just how deeply you are conditioned by society.

This kind of relationship option I'm describing isn't for everyone. It is good that I'm not popular, and that this website is only seen by some 250 people per day. I think I probably reach the people I'm supposed to reach. It is probably just as well, for example, that "In Another Life" only aired the one time, in Denver, Colorado. I visited Denver recently--I keep having this feeling I'm going to move there. I don't know how, or why. Check back and see; or if it happens, you can read back in these Updates and see that I had this feeling.

Although this kind of relationship isn't for everyone--and it is as challenging and rewarding as any relationship, I would say--it may be for you. It may be for you if your soul mate has passed, and you are wondering if you need to let him or her go and "move on". It may be for you if you have been yearning and searching for your soul mate, unsuccessfully, all your life, wondering where he or she is, and perhaps it turns out that person is actually not incarnate now.

These kinds of relationships can't be all that uncommon. When a phenomenon is happening out there, but no-one dares talk about it openly, the first thing that happens is that it shows up in art. One sees it in books and movies, referred to allegorically. Indeed, think about the movie "Avatar". Abby pressed me to see that movie, when I really didn't want to see it (because I didn't like the way the term "Avatar" is cheapened from its original meaning). But when we saw it together, I understood--it's an almost perfect metaphor for this kind of relationship. I won't draw the parallels for you--you can see them yourself. I ran across another movie recently, "To Gillian on Her 37th Birthday". It's about a man who goes out on the beach at night and talks with his late wife. It reminded me of the movie "Birth" (which dealt with reincarnation), because at the end the writer "chickens out" and makes it the man's imagination. But that's irrelevant. The phenomenon must be out there, and it must be common enough to inspire a motion picture that attempts to explain it away. It's like Billy Graham running more and more responses in his column denying reincarnation--something is going on!

So, in the same way that I keep telling people we are having past-life memory experiences but we're all scared to talk about it, I am now saying that some significant percentage of us must be continuing a love relationship with our soul mate or twin flame on the other side, but not daring to admit it. Whether I continue to harp on this subject or not remains to be seen. If I have to start looking for a job, I may disable the links to these Updates altogether for awhile! Since my internet presence is substantial (having a unique last name), I've probably destroyed the last vestage of my employability, anyway. Maybe that's one reason I'm attracted to Denver, because it's a fairly liberal area. No, that's not the reason--I still don't know the reason.

This Update is way too long. I guess I had a lot to "spill". I think I've done my job--five or ten percent of you will have gotten the message. The rest of you can indulge me if you want to. I've been told I write well. If you think I've gone off the deep end, just enjoy the writing! And check back in a few months to see if we're in Denver.

Best regards,

Stephen Sakellarios, Producer

1) To get a good sense of what the twin flame relationship is like, see the movie "The Notebook" (2004). There are a lot of parallels between this movie and my relationship with Abby.

2) The medium who first put us in direct communication with each other told me that when I was Matthew, we used to read esoteric books to each other. So I began reading aloud to Abby, and I let her prompt me as to what book she wanted to read. One day, during a period when I was struggling with whether this was real or not, she chose Rumi's "Masnavi," and I randomly opened the book to the following allegorical story (pg. 115, translation by E.H. Whinfield):
A certain villager paid a visit to the town, and there received hospitality from one of the townsmen. At his departure the villager was profuse of thanks, and pressed the townsman to come and see him in his village, and bring his family with him. The townsman hesitated long before accepting his invitation, having doubts as to his sincerity, and remembering the Hadis, "Caution consists in suspecting others." But after ten years' solicitation he at length yielded, and set off with his family to the village. On his arrival the villager shut the door in his face, saying that he did not know him, and the townsman had to pass five nights in the cold and rain. At last, exhausted with suffering, he implored the villager to give him shelter, promising to render service in return. The villager granted it on condition that he would protect his garden from the wolves. The townsman accepted this condition, and taking bow and arrows, proceeded to patrol the garden, but, owing to the rain and the darkness, and his own fears, ended by shooting the villager's pet ass in mistake for a wolf. The villager abused him roundly, saying that he himself would not have taken an ass for a wolf, even on the darkest night. The townsman replied, "If that be so, you are self-convicted of inhumanity, for you must have recognized me, your friend of ten years' standing, the moment I knocked at your door. As for me, I am ignorant of all but Allah, and, moreover, was unable to see in the darkness; and God has said, 'No criminality is imputed to the blind.' But your blindness in refusing to recognise me was wilful, and your claims to humanity are thus proved to be false by the test to which you have been submitted."
It wasn't my conscious intention to open the Masnavi randomly for guidance on this occasion, but the message was a clear rebuke. "...you are self-convicted of inhumanity, for you must have recognized me, your friend of ten years' standing, the moment I knocked at your door." In short, my doubts were sheer hypocrisy.

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