ALIEN ABDUCTION TELEPATHIC MIND-CONTROL

ALIEN MIND CONTROL DURING ABDUCTIONS

By Paul Schroeder

(Copyright 2018, Paul Schroeder – All Rights Reserved)

<Edited by Robert D. Morningstar>

*******

(Author’s note:

I am “he” …

And this recollection is genuine.

However, I chose the pronoun, “he”, and the nouns,”The Father” and “the priest”,to make this vividly recalled abduction, more easily acceptable to the uninitiated reader.)

‘Relaxation techniques, slowly bought him to an altered state; under hypnosis, a series of subconscious motor reflexes, a twitch of a different finger cemented a conversation with the body, not the mind.

 

 The thumb, indicated “Yes”, the middle finger, “No”, the pinky, “I (can’t) won’t answer”.

 This technique would confront repressed fear, avoidance, or directives to forget, and allow direct conversation with the unconscious.

By hypnotic suggestion, the body would answer, meaningfully, even if one fell asleep.

This technique sought to bypass speech, itself, should impasses present themselves.’

‘Doctor : “Let’s begin; can we talk about his bad dreams?”

Priest: (film shows quick flash of thumb;) “Yes”…

 

Doctor: “Go back to the day the two puppets floated outside the window, and, below consciousness, recall what happened, that afternoon.

 

Show me that you begin by moving the “yes” finger, and the end of that recall by moving the “no” finger.”

Priest: (film shows “yes” and “no” twitches)

Doctor: “Good; started and ended. Is there any unconscious, additional information, the father has not remembered concerning that afternoon?”

Priest: (finger twitches quickly with the “yes” thumb movement)

Doctor: “What happened?

 See it remotely, as if you’re in a projector booth, watching yourself, on a screen; what happened?”

Priest: (increasing stress) “I don’t want to answer digit”, pinky, signal.

Doctor: “No? You don’t want to tell me? Fine, can you talk to me orally, tell me what you’re feeling?”

Priest: (more negative finger) Movements with agonized breath.

Doctor: “You refer to this as October, 2017.

 Whatever happened was long ago.

 You’re safe and in control; are you reluctant to talk about it because it’s too upsetting?”

Priest: Film records positive finger movement

Doctor: “Freeze the scene and see part in full frame; like a snapshot?

 Is it okay?”

Priest: Film shows a “yes” twitch.’

Doctor: “A still slide projected on a faraway screen; you’re up in the projection booth watching the father in the theater.”

‘Priest: “As I was looking through the window, the eyes looked back.

 Staring back.

 The eyes are not normal.”

Doctor: “Look closer; what else do you notice?”

Priest: “The face doesn’t have any teeth, it’s not a normal face. It’s gone, now.”

Doctor: “Feel the relief that the face is gone. Now I have a question for your unconscious to answer by finger movement.

Has any harm been done to the father during the faces’ presence?”

Priest: (records a quick “no” answer)

Doctor: “Now what happened, later, that night, when you felt, sensed something by your bed?

Was there anything done to the father, physically during that time?”

Priest: Head is shaking “no” and the finger movement is saying “yes”, softly; “They took my clothes”, sadly “They took my priestly vestments”.

Doctor: “Who did?”

 

Priest: Very agitated, legs twitching, shoulders twitching. His head shook on a negative reaction.

Doctor: “Is the “no” for then, or now? You keep shaking your head “no”.

 

Priest: “For now”.

Doctor: “You don’t want to talk about it?”

Priest: “No”.

Doctor: “Do you want to remember it when you come out of trance?”

Priest: “No”.

‘Doctor: “Do you want to remember it some other day?”

Priest: “No”.

Doctor: “Below consciousness, I want to ask your hand some questions. ”

“Hand, in the course of that encounter, did the father leave the house?”

Priest: Thumb, positive finger response, “yes”.

Doctor: “Was he removed from the house?”

 

Priest: (another “yes” response)’

‘Doctor: “Would it be all right for him to remember the things that happened?”

 

Priest: (an animated “no” response)

Doctor: “Without him reliving the experiences, would it be all right for him to remember what he saw?”

Priest: The little finger jumps repeatedly with “I don’t want to answer” response.’

 

(Slowly, aloud) “I want to see what happened.”

Doctor: “Repeat that, please, say it again”.

Priest: “I want to see what happened”.

 

Doctor: “To avoid reliving; you do not have to relive the experience, speak of the priest as “He”, it is not you, but a picture”.

ABDUCTION RECOLLECTION:

‘He’ is flying high over a lush green tree landscape, over rolling tree lined hills and

though he knows that it must be night, within the tractor light-beam, under a moving

craft,  the fields and countryside below are lit up as though it were day, but he knows it’s

night, because he is told that he is dreaming.

 He is flying, floating above a tree landscape.

For a few brief seconds, until he is drawn into the craft, he sees the green granular

nature of the trees below, and feels the  visual exhilaration of flying, but rather than fear,

he is filled with a combined sense of peace and joyous happiness.

He marvels at the texture and color of his neighborhood, and his movement above it.

He is dreaming, but he is awake.

The smaller craft lands near a much larger ship, hiding in plain sight, in a field.

A long ramp extends from and to the ship.

He is told by a small, dark, grey alien, always just out of sight, that he is to wait on line,

for a tour of a country estate.

People stand on the ramp and slowly move forward

He is numb and is  surreal vividly dreaming,  but he feels that he is awake.

He  moves forward, people in front of him and in back of him,   on a narrow path

surrounded by a false screen memory of a flat, uni–dimensional static scene,

a photograph of an English garden.

It is hot and humid with the rank smell of soil.

People clutch what looks like brochures and move slowly in a single line, towards the

country estate, bored, and only mildly interested.

He approaches the door of the large alien craft.

A ticket taker sits at the entrance way, on a stool behind a lectern, observing the entering

crowd, a doorway official seen as a slim teenager.

He thinks it odd, that such a young caretaker should seemingly be in charge, and as he

lifts his eyes to meet the teen’s gaze,  the young boy turns into a kindly old man.

“It’s mind control, not shape-shifting”, he is told, by a sonorous tour-guide’s voice, in

answer to his unasked thought.

Everyone is awake and dreaming.

Inside is a waiting room, dirty, dull and round, a white room with no adornments and a

black floor.

He awakens, dreaming and feels that the room is in flight.

It is a dream within a dream.

Awake again, briefly, he is dreaming while standing upright, walking in his

sleep, climbing  a steep metal stairway ladder path-bridge, that leads to a very large

room at the top of the stairs.

Someone in front of him dreams, and wakes up dreaming.

He looks to his right, as he climbs, to see  an enormous domed -curved window which

makes up the staircase’s whole upper wall of the alien craft, and as he climbs, feeling

very numb, he pauses, and stops the line of mass abducted people.

He looks out of the window and sees the Earth and the Moon, opposite each other,

hanging in the blackness of space.

  He places his arms on the curved railing where the staircase meets the bottom of the

window and cups his chin in his hands, to understand the raw beauty of what he sees:

Outside is blackness…

The Earth, in the far right portion of the glass window, hangs suspended in a black

nothingness, a planet swimming in blue-white haze, with a large red area, perhaps, the

desert of North Africa, or the Arabian peninsula.
Silver and bright, the Moon, far to the left

portion of the glass, also hangs suspended in a black nothingness..

Far away, violet splashes of nebulae, and points of red pinpoint starlight, intersperse

with millions of white stars.

Chin in his hands, he leans over and says in a wistful, admiring tone,

“These people who live at THIS estate have some view; what a view!”

The small, dark, grey alien tour guide became startled and all at once,  the window’s 3-D

space scene, becomes  a painted uni-dimensional flat portrait,  of an English garden

landscape.

Chin in hands, still looking out of the window, but now at the expanse of poster-like

green lawn, of a garden landscape, he dully repeats,

“They DO have a nice view!”

The tour guide, startled to hear him repeat this praise, seemingly unaware that the scene

of the garden had already worked to distract him,  knee-jerk- reflex -overreacted; he is

slammed with a mind control jolt.

The alien creature tightens and magnifies its short psychic leash of control to throw him

into a vivid emotional ecstasy, and he feels compelled to look down at his feet, and away

from the window’s view.

The simple metallic ladder- path underfoot, transforms into carved inlaid wood

one, delicately patterned and dazzlingly ornate, an inlaid ebony and maple wood design,

cryptic and deeply beautiful in motif and complexity.

He is forced to kneel to examine it, his eyes now fully away from the stars, Earth and

moon, seen outside the enormous, curved window .

Butterflies magically appear on festooned woodwork.
Powerful awe,

love, and wood -admiration, a godlike reverence of wood, flashes through his mind at the

mirage of the intricate wood designed staircase, suspended in air.

Complex, gorgeous and lushly constructed, a staircase in multicolored woods,  forces a

religious awe, which courses through his brain to thrill him, a tsunami of reverent awe,

for the dazzling wood patterns,  the unknown artist-architect, overwhelms and distracts

him, a gifted  psychic tug attempt to get him to forget what he has seen outside of the

craft’s window.

The sleeping line of climbing people is now fully stopped by his fawning and repeated

examinations, of the simple metal staircase, as he repeatedly retraces his steps to

examine it, in a rapture.

.

The tour guide, just out of sight, presumes that the delusion is strong enough to have

worked and he hears a resonant, deep, paternal, impatient voice, now within his

head, “Just keep going; it will be there, for you to see, when you get back.”

“But, things change so quickly, in dreams”,  he thinks, “and this gorgeous wood stairway, will likely not be there, when I return.”

He lingers, enthralled.

The alien ‘ guide’,  who tethers him and all the others, within a snug cocoon of illusions,

had deftly made a simple, metal staircase, the un-rightful recipient of that stolen awe, of

the magnificent scene he had viewed outside the craft’s window of red and white stars

and the dazzling orbs of Earth and moon, floating in blackness..

But when he awakens, he DOES remember the staircase and  his monumental awe of the

spectacular space scene, outside the curved window, of the alien craft:

“Astounding creatures, uncanny, psychic, mind-bending, short- leash-controls…”

He  dully thinks, when he awakens exhausted, with a dull headache and a copious nose

bleed, more tired getting up, than he had been, going to bed.

 And ‘dreams’, in a gnawing realization, could no longer ever again, be trusted  to merely

be only.. ‘dreams’.

POSTSCRIPT:

Nightmares may be screen memories to muddle recollection aboard craft or insertion of core images as trauma, to make connections to your mind.

ETs specialize in  vivid delivery of such surreal dream-scape visuals.

My acquired insights sustain that ALL nightmares are varied degrees of telepathic attacks used by and delivered from a varied collection of negative-thought-entities who strive to ‘reside’ within such “core-images”, and at least, make ethereal connections from us to them by imposing traumatic, horrid imagery.

Post-abductions “nightmares” especially fall within this realm.

It is not insightful, to analyze such imagery nor is it wise to assume that it’s innocuous.

One must attempt to not retain such imagery, but to sever and slash at it’s recollection, using tools of metaphysics, from swords to blow-torches, visualized removing connections.

Source helps those, who help themselves..

However, the silent invasion, of humankind one abductee at a time,

to be possessed , as well as farmed throughout the Multiverse by sinister and controlling E.T.s , as we do with lower animal husbandry, on “Earth”, is to  wrongly deprive mankind of our spiritual rights, a denial of being accepted with equanimity, as a sentient race of beings.

BIO:

Abductions and their remnant elusive memories have opened all this for me, a confirmed atheist, UNTIL I saw aliens float me out of my body, in my bed, at night.

Then, I knew that they were more interested in an essence, that I never suspected I had: a Soul.

I saw a flotilla of craft, slowly come in from different directions, to assemble overhead, round craft bottoms appearing not unlike red balloons.

They floated into a formation of sorts, overhead, until there were a dozen, and then all bottoms’ red color turned to violet and they darted off overhead together, all in the same direction, like fast minnows in a pond.

After that amazing sighting, poltergeist nonsense began to occur in my house .
And from then on, I looked up at the night skies only with apprehension…

Things moved within immediate eyesight, knocks on the walls and pings on light fixtures, small fast footsteps overhead in the attic, and very strong feelings of being watched and nightmares.

Many nights, fantastic vivid nightmares of encounters with non-human beings ensued, beings very tall, white like a refrigerator, flat like a Gumby cartoon character, and who spoke to me with mind-to-mind-communication..

I was in severe ontological shock…

I have discovered that this ‘reality’ may well be a reptilian preserve matrix of time and illusion, a human-playpen-physical anomaly,  compared to multiple reptilian created synthetic, astral worlds, elegantly designed to ‘house’ trapped human souls.

Can one ‘engage’?

 

 

If  you ask: ” Who was I in my last lifetime?”, you will get a memorable vivid roller-coaster ride dream-scape answer, but one that might also be a deception; one must remain skeptical of such tampering entities,

entities who radiate omniscience, and proprietary demeanor.

I was psychically throttled in the womb, with my own queries, questions about their purposes and overall intent, cut off from asking, before I could frame the rehearsed queries.

And I sensed an air of strong anxiety from them, that such things, NOT be ‘discussed’..
I have always surmised that they wouldn’t be so very secretive, if they were up to anything remotely ‘good’..

*******

Postscript

Rather than a fear-based approach to Dark Force Entity safety and caution, I prescribe a required spiritual “shift”  towards the equally unseen goodness of the spirit world, and away from fear.

Unlearning fear is a step-by-step acceptance and assertion, of one’s spiritual ‘Self’, a distance far and away from fearful  defenses mustered by one’s material physical self.

One’s longitudinal approach to any self-defense must be a spiritual one, and not a physical one.

For defenses to flare, one must  recognize that one is not a person having troubled spiritual problems, but instead an eternal soul having troubling human experiences.

From the stance of self-recognition as an eternal spirit, one can then insist on “one’s own space’ as spiritual fruition.

Avoid  church-based or organized religions and put the Bible on the same shelf as “The Tooth Fairy,” for God is real, but He’s to be found down a long hall, and somewhere else.

1:11, 2:22, 3:33, 4:44 : ALIEN TIME SYNCHRONICITY

1:11, 11:11, 2:22, 3:33, 4:44, : ALIEN TIME SYNCHRONICITY

by Paul Schroeder

(THE GOSPEL OF ST. MARK 4:22/23 reads…….22 For whatever is hidden is meant to be disclosed, and whatever is concealed is meant to be brought out into the open. 23 If anyone has ears to hear, let them hear.”)

Part of the alarming nature of the unknown is its mysterious link to the known; I awaken

each night to a lewd exhibition of the merging.

I open my eyes and turn to see the digital alarm clock, sitting on the lamp table next to

my bed and see: 12:12, and 1:11 am, 2:22 am and 3:33 am and 4:44 am.

This distresses me so badly, upon awakening, that I cannot think beyond  a wave of panic

that SOMETHING is awakening me, with alacrity, as the calculated odds of awakening

each night precisely at those specific times, is astronomically impossible.

The message intended seems designed to throw me off balance and to keep me wrapped

in fearful confusion, to let me know that I am being toyed with, but yields no greater insight.

 If you presume that it’s NOT ‘angels’, you surmise correctly..

It has taught me that when I sleep, I wander among monsters and in beastly company.

When one is within E.T.’s attentive and manipulative reach and grasp,  all vivid “dreams”

should be suddenly suspect, ridden with controlled images and vivid delusions.

When one is later temporarily ‘freed’ from reptilian or grey omnipresent proprietary

meddling, one’s foggy and half-remembered normal other “dreams” settle back in.

Their constructs of astral worlds to entrap human spirits, deterred from “Heaven”, are reptoid

brutal , unsettling ‘stage-sets’ ,wherein human spirits reside and unknowingly await

transfers into other physical bodies to continue the E.T. cycle of ethereal ‘milking’ of

energy and somatic tissues.

If one is an evolving searchlight for divinity, one can attempt an equanimity , perhaps, if

one presses the issue .

Although the synchronicity of 1:11, 2:22, 3:33, has widely and hastily been attributed to

positive or angelic energies, one’s sub-conscious response to hearing a barely audible

psychic ‘nudge’ to glance at the clock, just at that time, reveals a fingerprint, a silhouette

of an interloper.

The “call”, itself, may be E.T. proprietary meddling, far from ascended presumed beings ;

because of masquerades and deceptions the meaning of BEWARE, includes be aware and

be wary, especially in this telepathic realm and thus, safety first, always be dubious,

cautious and suspicious FIRST, beforehand..

80% of the human population is so saddled, but unknowingly.

It is an unseen attached energy, of one who taunts and offers ‘peeks behind the spiritual

curtain’, but one who stays hidden.

Nightmares, just as ubiquitous, are well known in paranormal research findings, as

reptilian alien and demonic telepathic attacks, which characteristically awaken one at

3:00 and at 3:33.

Precisely like the characteristic three scratch marks, commonly left on spirit-assaulted

people’s arms and legs, the dark side uses three, as a powerful rebuke, of the Holy

Trinity, regardless of whether one, under such attack, personally believes in that

religious construct , or not.

I resent the imposed confusion that such time synchronizations bring , and realize that

since most people are too afraid to  think about predatory, masquerading entities,  they

too quickly assume that it’s an elevated and angelic prodding.

The truth, however, is down a long hall and somewhere else for research suggests that

it is more  likely ubiquitous, too prevalent grey aliens, and insidious reptilians, who are

to blame, our cosmic ‘keepers’.

The best game wardens, never let the creatures within, suspect that it is indeed, a preserve.

Aliens, ever thirsty for our endocrines, were mistaken as vampires in the 3rd and 4th

centuries, and importantly, raw garlic works amazing well as an herbal repellent against

these predatory grey critters, as it is reputed to similarly do, against vampires.

Time coincidences,  the psychic nudge to gaze at the clock, in a timely moment, according

to cutting edge UFO research literature, is tied to alien creatures, who intimately and

closely micromanage humans.

As inter-dimensional creatures who travel in time and who manipulate time, itself,  their

psychic prod to nudge our awareness towards such synchronous time numbers, seeks to

disorientate us, to raise unanswerable questions that loom and dissipate, and to satisfy

their own proprietary, omnipresent need to meddle in our lives, and our consciousness.

I refer you to two, of many research sources, that  powerfully suggest that such time

synchronicity, rather than coincidences, are instead a signature symptom of larger

paranormal maelstroms: aliens who abduct, and the inter-dimensional door, left open

after abductions , that invites in the gangster fringe elements, of the spirit world.

Beyond prevailing clinical belief, E.T.s can and do affect human beings.

E.T.s  intruding  tampering with us, oddly involves such numerical/time telepathic

dysfunctions.

A book that discusses time synchronicity, as an element of post- alien abductions, is at

once both an essential digest,  and a wondrous text, titled:

“CE-VI: Close Encounters of the Possession Kind”, by William J. Baldwin, M.D., PH.D.”,

which asserts demon-like,  in-dwelling possession, by aliens, within its 300 documented

case histories, which cannot easily be refuted or interpreted , in any other way.

The second, of many such books, that discuss time nudges, by aliens to their abducted ‘chosen’, is:

“Encounters”, by psychologist Edith Fiore, PH.D. , which describes time/ numbers

synchronicities, as emotional and psychic ‘attachments’, made by errant alien beings, to humans.

Both research texts assert that aliens seek retirement “sanctuary”, within our human

energy fields and multi-layered human psyches.

This innate alien-to-human -parasitic- relationship,  even within the seemingly well

informed UFO community,  is barely recognized and  poorly understood.

These  texts act as floodlights on flatcars to illuminate this UFO/alien darkness, with time

synchronicity, as a tangential,  emergent symptom of alien  abduction.

Aliens invade astrally to abduct, monitor, and possess, to entangle their energies with

ours to ride the reincarnation roller coaster of our auras, to give a new meaning, to a silent invasion.

My acquired insights sustain that ALL nightmares are varied degrees of telepathic

 

attacks used by and delivered from a varied collection of negative-thought-entities who

 

strive to ‘reside’ within such “core-images”, and at least, make ethereal connections from

us to them by imposing traumatic, horrid imagery.

Post-abductions “nightmares” especially fall within this realm.

It is not insightful, to analyze such imagery nor is it wise to assume that it’s innocuous.

One must attempt to not retain such imagery, but to sever and slash at it’s recollection,

 

using tools of metaphysics, from swords to blow-torches, visualized removing connections.

Source helps those, who help themselves..

These two books, as research texts, are  an education, in itself.

Many psychiatrists have now begun to understand these phenomenon and to

incorporate therapy towards this previously unrealized reality.

Many suggest other ET ‘realities:

This may well be a reptilian preserve matrix of time and illusion, a dimensional human-playpen-

physical anomaly, when compared to reptilian created synthetic, astral worlds, elegantly

designed to ‘house’ trapped human souls.

I have seen such astral prison realms during astral abductions and OBEs and it is not

dissimilar to this ‘reality’, which if you pay strict attention, also sometimes ‘pixilates’..

The razzmatazz of time with the clock’s synchronicity,  which involves an inner ‘call’, to

witness it,  suggests  other unconscious ‘pulls’, on our minds, and behaviors, and  is the

psychic tip of the alien iceberg.

This nightly assault, a chronos- nagging- tease, fills me with numb wonder, and disabling

awe, and when I do mention it to family and friends, they stare at me, as though I had

lobsters crawling, out of my ears.

Paper is much more patient, than people and

if you presume that it’s NOT ‘angels’, you surmise correctly..

Closed minds will themselves one day have paranormal experiences and then those

closed doors will also be ripped off the hinges

A reader wrote in and astutely commented:

“I don’t think that they are demons or evil.

They are parasites, yes, but no more evil than a tick or a leech is evil.

They are without a soul, yes, which means that as with the human psychopath, they are

fascinated by that which animates us, and envious of that quality in us which is

unknown and unknowable to them, so they use us as a narcissist does a mirror.

But first they must somehow engage our attention.

Time coincidences and other synchronizations are a standard ploy – to which we who

become aware, attach angelic or demonic significance – either way, whether by fear or

attraction, they lead us in a merry dance.

By leading the dance, by usurping that which animates us, eventually, to the point where

they are able to control that which was once animated by a soul is  their “rush”.

The name of the game is: If I cannot be like you, I will make you like me.”

(-Jennifer Graf-)

Many, who battle to shake off sticky and persistent E.T. grey and reptilian alien energies,

commonly have this persistent time synchronicity phenomenon.

Though they pilot highly technological UFOs, they yet walk unseen among us, to seek to

clamber aboard our energies,  to tamper with our destiny and loom as omnipresent,

behind our curtains, to ofttimes prod us to look at the clock, in a masquerade as our spirit helpers or our angels.

Humanity must learn to apply and assert metaphysics to dislodge them, like dogs who

scratch off fleas.

We are wrongly and repeatedly told, that these time experiences are “angelic”

manifestations, “awakening codes”, asserted by self-appointed mystics, however well-

meaning, who prefer to remain  drowsy and asleep, yearning for angels.

The mainstream public audience, in return,  wants to believe that sanguine, Pollyanna

angel surmise about seeing repeated numbers, expressed in time.

To see and awaken to see, numbers in time that echo, IS a version of an “awakening

code”, an awakening away from an unfounded optimism.

It is , in a fashion, an optimism, an hour- glass half full– but filled with something that

might, in good time, try to kill you…

AFTERWORD:

Rather than a fear-based approach to Dark Force Entity safety and caution, I prescribe a required spiritual “shift” towards the equally unseen goodness of the spirit world, and away from fear.
Unlearning fear is a step by step acceptance and assertion, of one’s spiritual ‘self’, a distance far and away from fearful defenses mustered by one’s material physical self.
One’s longitudinal approach to any self-defense must be a spiritual one, and not a physical one.
For defenses to flare, one must recognize that one is not a person having troubled spiritual problems, but instead an eternal soul having troubling human experiences.

From the stance of self-recognition as an eternal spirit, one can then insist on “one’s own space’.
as spiritual fruition.

Avoid  organized religions and put the E.T. inspired Bible on the same shelf, as the Tooth Fairy for

God, is real, but He is down a long hall, and somewhere else.

 

BIO:

Abductions and their remnant elusive memories have opened all this for Paul, a confirmed atheist, UNTIL Paul saw aliens float him out of his body, in his bed, at night.

Then, he knew that they were interested in an essence that he never suspected that he had: a nonphysical soul.

Our spiritual powers that interest and addict interdimensionales are the very powers that can be used to thwart further attacks.

They infect auras with attachments to themselves and ride the reincarnation roller coaster with human beings, as a sanctuary, to avoid the death that they fear and to steal the spiritual recycling that we have.

Souls are garnered, detoured from our natural spiritual evolution in Heaven.

These joyriding grays and reptilians can be sinister, dis-corporate alien souls, stuck to our energies, who bring a new meaning to the concept of, a silent invasion.

(Author’s afterword:

Personally, beyond belief, several psychics have told me that in my last lifetime, I was a

pleiadian officer on a rescue mission of children, only to be taken and hanged by

reptilians, and this lifetime, I wear a circle of scar around my neck because of  cervical

neck discs that imploded to

pinch shut my spinal cord and after eight hours of emergency surgery to peel those discs

off, which left scars on my spinal cord, I wear a “noose-scar” facsimile today, a reminder

of their malace and vendetta from a lifetime not remembered…)

GHOST-HUNTERS : BEYOND THIS PLACE, MONSTERS DWELL

by Paul Schroeder

The theory that consciousness ends with physical death, has never been proved, to me.

If one examines a plethora of diverse spiritual phenomena like, demonic possession, OBEs, NDEs, hauntings, poltergeists, reincarnation memories through regressive hypnosis, just to mention a few, the undeniable evidence looms as obvious as a trout in the milk.

We should all be born with lunch boxes for our stay here, in this school, is short, compared to the eternal spark of God within us that endures.

Children see ghosts and have paranormal experiences more so than adults because they are still close to the other side, having JUST crossed and because there’s evidence that children see a broader spectrum of light than adults , but to me, the most interesting and revealing aspects of listening to tapes of past life regressive hypnosis, is the time described by clients’ narratives of interactions and experiences,  IN- BETWEEN lifetimes…

 I try rescues, every so often, fifty concentration camp sites, all over Europe, where 2,000,000 Jewish children were turned into soap,  the most haunted places imaginable, exponentially more than any other global site where trapped souls lament.

Untold masses of tormented souls, in time’s layers, according to the transports where they were wholesale murdered, still suffer, above and around these sites.

Over 2,000,000 children were systematically slaughtered, children separated from their parents and families, in despair and horror and

 tossed alive into burning petrol pits by Ukrainian and Waffen S.S. hands.

Older children were dispatched by swinging them by the feet, headfirst into walls.

Focus,  on those frantic, horrified and trapped levels of ghosts, suspended in layers above those locales, and visualize  purple light and angels rescuing them.

These souls have suffered psychological/spiritual damage, that complicates spirit rescue;

 young souls,  in extreme fright, who perished at the hands of adults,

will not approach, or trust, any rescuing medium who is an adult.

Neither will such a fevered spirit who perished in flames, approach the “LIGHT”..

Millions of trapped  child souls, who died in terror and agony,  persist there in that same nightmarish state of mind.

Screams of children waft in the night air, audible to nearby villages, when meteorological conditions are perfect.

These murder sites are the most haunted sites, in the ghost realm, geographically.

Ghosthunters could care less:

They provoke, collect evidence and leave the scene in a moral turpitude, a  non- humaneness, towards trapped and stuck human souls, who suffer.

Dangers other than moral ones exist for  uninitiated amateurs who DO go “ghost-hunting”.

A “ghost box’,  fascinating as a doorway to the unseen, offers a dangerous opportunity for a masquerading  evil one to enter to feast on one’s energies,

 should powerful demonics, who often trap ghosts in a locale for feasting on their energies, also infest a  ‘haunted house’ and come into contact with ‘hunters’, who then become the ‘prey’.

 If you had either a loaded gun with a hair-trigger, or a ghost box,  the gun would be a safer tool to keep close,  for

 when one dabbles in the occult, it can fully open to one, and demons, more ubiquitous than imagined , drift in to feel tacit unspoken permission,

 to  feel that they own one, and make

one’s life and mind a nightmarish battleground.

Television shows create a sense of harmless fascination and fun with the Dark Side and deliver a false sense of safety within experimentation with the Occult Dark Side.

Ouija boards, commercially sold as novelty items, remain a threat unrecognized by the general public, viewing Ouija as “a board game,” like Monopoly or Scrabble, rather than  solid invitations (invocations) to Dark Force entities to approach , more directly.

Television shows with conjuring themes, like Witch Season, Witch Hunter, Charmed, Sabrina the Teenage Witch, Ghost Whisperer, Bewitched, suggest to the viewing public that there is no real danger in witchcraft, wizardry and “ghost hunting”, but

 spiritual and psychological dangers can await the unwitting who have  received this

  false sense of safety.

 ‘Hunting’ might  open a door that one  can’t close, again.

Predatory, negative, bullying entities exist : Devils (who can walk right into you), sinister Earthbound spirits, shadow people, demons,  and diabolical alien reptilians, who  often masquerade, as poltergeists or ghosts are phantoms who fill the air around us.

Which “Ghost Buster” can you successfully find in the Yellow Pages, at that point, because “what followed you home”, afterwards, was more than you were  prepared to deal with?

When spiritual filth follows a ghost-hunter home, the symptoms can be uniform:

-Concurrent with psychic attacks, (negative ideations and bad dreams) is poltergeist phenomena; things move within immediate vision, knocks and tapping occur on the walls occur and a general heavy, unhappy, creepy atmosphere envelops the house and the moods of its occupants.

Electrical problems, sudden onset of flies and cockroaches, and nightmares, worst scenario dreams, horrify and prevail.

Pranks predominate.Objects disappear to return days later in strange places and there’s always a powerful sense of being watched by large eyes.

Those troubled by hauntings are in a dilemma, for having discarded church-based organized religions, long ago, and having put the Bible on the same shelf, as the Tooth Fairy, they find themselves bereft of spiritual guidance.

But God  has always been down a long hall, and somewhere else.

 

 Hopefully, if things stay spiritually pedestrian, and one runs into ghosts, during such  “hunts”, can one think how

 dreadful, it must be for them to have their house invaded by strangers, who cannot see or hear their distress or their ire, for the intrusion of their privacy, and the ignoring of their cries for help.

 The emotional chaos of a human ghost,  who dwells in the world of mind, is dreadful.

 Still human, it is now in its original spirit form: an electromagnetic conscious fog, comprised of memories and an identity .

A paranormal tool, that hears word for word what a ghost speaks, would tremendously assist ghost-hunters and trapped spirits:

A parabolic directional microphone, with earphone headset, will pick up voices  magnified,  to allow a direct two-way conversation.

This is a wondrous tool for giving a ghost guidance, and insight into its plight, and to assist it in a much needed means out of its predicament.

EVPs are normally examined and discovered long after the haunt locale is left behind, but a parabolic directional microphone allows real time interactions for

ghostly voices as sounds are heard in real time.

Ghost “hunting”  bypasses the higher purpose of spirit rescue , for the untrained ‘hunters” care only about ‘evidence gathering’,  and feel no

moral responsibility,  to rescue a trapped human ‘spirit’ always in extreme distress .

All ‘hunters’ make game their ‘prey’, and that goes double for ‘hunting’ ghosts..

Many EVPs are heart-wrenching direct requests for help.

The directional, parabolic microphone with headset earphones, bypasses the need for a “medium”, and can also discern the graveled croaking of a demonic;

(some who charge much money, and  masqueradeas “mediums”, are indeed,

 “mediums”,  because anything, well done, is rare.)

The enlightened approach of a ghost hunter  must be the same as one  who enters a cave to find and  rescue a trapped child: a
humanitarian, ghost-humane stance.

We get a sure ride to Earth from Heaven, at birth, but sadly no guarantees for a safe return trip home, at  our death.

One’s destiny chooses one, and the only important days in one’s life, are the day that one is born, and the day that one knows, why.

  Should we, at physical death, find ourselves  trapped, stuck in ghostly form, we would loathe to be seen as sport, by “ghost-hunters”,  who observe evidence of our sad presence, like the enjoyment of a crowd, who applaud animals sorely abused, by rodeos and by circuses.

Ghost-Hunters, remember that ghosts are stuck, lost souls, trapped between worlds, and as a “hunter”,  and coincidentally ALSO a spirit, you are uniquely positioned to assist their rescue, as service, to ‘The Other Side’ and perhaps more importantly also rescue yourselves …

Alien Abductions: Hypnosis and Amnesia

Alien Abductions:

Hypnosis and Amnesia

 

By Paul Schroeder

(Copyright 2017, Paul Schroeder – All Rights Reserved)

<Edited by Robert D. Morningstar>

 

• Giordano Bruno- February 1600 (burned at the stake by Church Bishops for teachings against the Roman Catholic Church) :

• “Innumerable suns exist! Innumerable earths circle around their suns, no worse and no less inhabited than this globe of ours.

  For no reasonable mind can assume that heavenly bodies that may be far more magnificent than ours would not bear upon them creatures similar or even superior to those upon our human Earth.”

 

The following account is based on an actual encounter:

 

Dr. Paul Schroeder and his wife, Susan were boating on North Conway Lake in New Hampshire, near the North Conway mines, on May 13, 2008.

They paddled into a deep hidden canyon, entering between huge boulders which formed a narrow gateway.

It was a place that they had been to before,  to make love in the wild flowers, in a vast hidden field.

Both pulled the boat up onto the narrow beach shadowed by overhanging willows and had a cold lunch of chicken and white wine.

It was a pristine landscape to wander in and dream.

Soon they felt the air vibrate strongly like an explosion’s aftershock.       A wave blast of air and temperature.

“What in God’s name was that?” Susan asked.

Her husband answered:

“Likely, it’s a shock-wave from a dynamite explosion, miles behind us, at the North Conway mine.  But there was no sound, and we’re miles and miles, too far from the mine.”

She added, “You must remember, that mine’s long been closed!”

He thought for a moment, “You’re damned right.”

He climbed the boulder behind him and said:

“It came from just outside this  hidden cove, but I should be able to figure out what happened, if I can see out over the lake, from up there.”

He pointed.

“You’ll probably fall and kill yourself,” his wife warned.

After hard climbing, he reached the top boulder which was split and he could look out through a sharp cleft within the rock.

Two large, shiny, round craft floated on the water just beyond the narrow entrance to the cove.

He didn’t stop to look twice.

What he had seen was so unbelievable that he scrambled down to get his wife.  His astonished aspect, a slack jaw and wide eyes, was all the convincing that she needed.

Both climbed up to the well-hidden vantage point to get a better perspective.

Both metallic craft were fifty to sixty feet wide, twenty feet thick at the center and fifteen feet thick at the rim.

Round, black-edged ports covered the rim at a distance of every four feet.

On the top sides, hatch covers were open, and moving slowly around its surface were spindly creatures, who moved in unison, like robots.

On both ships, over their heads from a central position, was a slowly rotating hoop-shaped object.

When the hoop reached a point directly opposite the husband and wife, it stopped.

So did all of the creatures … Ominously for the couple, the creatures stared toward the couple’s hiding place and remained motionless.

The husband, with a frantic whisper pulled at his wife’s dress:

“Jesus, Lord, get down!”

And both of them did, but they were sure that the creatures had spotted them.

They remained hidden, staring round-eyed at each other, and then noticed a quick movement;  a deer below, had come to the water’s edge, to drink.

They were sure that the strange creatures were instead watching the deer and they slowly rose for another good look.

The hoop was rotating once more, operated by a creature, standing below it, who wore a small, scarlet head covering.

All were small and wore close-fitting dark suits and blue helmets.

One creature placed a shiny green hose in the water, drawing in water and at the same time discharging something from another hose.

Again the hoop stopped and all the figures froze … They stared toward the couple on the rock.

Husband and wife ducked and counted to thirty before they inched up for yet another look.

Two hours later, dazed and confused, missing time, the couple ambled back into their boat and headed for home.

They were both grim faced and neither spoke for the whole trip back, and the further they traveled from the lake, the more their amnesia of the incident grew.

They traveled home, bereft of memories.

A week passed during which each night’s “dreams”  held disturbed and bizarre scenarios.

One night, as his son slept, he stole gently into the bedroom where his child was sleeping, and removed three books, by J.M.Barrie.

He had awakened in a sweat from a nightmare and the stars had been bright against the blackness of the night sky..

Rather than awe, dread had descended to encompass him.

He now felt strongly protective and oddly repulsed by the notion of  Peter Pan, a never-aging figure, who comes down from the sky and floats children out of their bedroom, at night, accompanied by a little ball of light, Tinkerbell.

AFTERWORD:

“The overall patterns in these cases are so remarkably consistent, often down to  even tiny details, that people reporting these experiences often sound so inherently credible that the phenomenon simply cannot be dismissed.”

• 

• EPILOGUE:

• Director of CIA, Admiral Roscoe H. Hillenkoetter:

• “It is time for the truth to be brought out in open Congressional hearings. Behind the scenes, high-ranking Air Force officers are soberly concerned about UFOs. But through official secrecy and ridicule, citizens are led to believe the unknown flying objects are nonsense.  To hide the facts, the Air Force has silenced its personnel.”

• pg. 58, quoted from New York Times, February 28, 1960, p. 30 

  

Abductions and their remnant elusive memories have opened all this for Paul, a confirmed atheist, UNTIL he saw aliens float him out of his body, in his bed, at night. Then, he knew that they were interested in an essence he never suspected that he had; a soul.

Our spiritual powers that interest and addict inter-dimensionals are the very powers that can be used to thwart further attacks.

They infect auras with attachments to themselves and ride the reincarnation roller coaster with people, to avoid the death that they fear and to steal the spiritual recycling that we have.

These joyriding grays can be sinister, discorporate alien souls , stuck to human energies, who bring a new meaning to the concept of a silent invasion.

WHAT DO JEWS THINK ABOUT CHRISTMAS?

Can God forgive the Christian world, for its assistance in killing and handing-over Jews during a continent’s wholesale butchery of a whole generation of
Jews?

During the Holocaust, hundreds of thousands of Jews were murdered by crowds of their countrymen in numerous towns, and cities, throughout Poland, France, Croatia, Greece, Spain, Russia, Italy, Czechoslovakia, Romania, local townspeople of Church goodness beat Jews to death, and shot them in trenches,  while German killing squads looked on, in silent affirmation,  an ancient vendetta, established by the Church , centuries before Nazis made Jewish murder legal.

The murderers of 2,000,000 Jewish babies and children, during the Holocaust were, to a man , Christian ,
as were all at attendance, at public mass executions of Jews.

One prayer, given by a rabbi,on Yom Kippur, a rabbi who had survived Auschwitz, intoned:
” God, our Jewish blood is splattered on every inch of soil and rock in the world; we have been slaughtered clutching close your Word; God, but grant us just one more Divine wish, and choose instead, another people, to be your blessed chosen ones”.

Post-Auschwitz, there IS no forgiveness, for tribal Jews who religiously killed many
self-proclaimed ‘Messiahs’, and one who was Jesus, a Jew who spoke of his own innate divinity within his certainty of God.

The Romans, baffled, called early Christians,”atheists”, because to Romans, Christians, rather than worship a Deity, instead worshiped a man.
Jesus, many are sure, knew that he was not God; he pointed to God, but the myopic faithful stared only at his finger.

” The Zen Master once stated: “The finger that points to the Moon, is not itself the Moon.”
Christ Jesus’ religion, a message of love for all God’s creatures, was later suddenly colored by Saint Paul’s precepts, far from Christ’s teaching, to create anew:
‘redemption’,

‘original sin’,

‘belief in Jesus forgives all sins’,

‘ sent by God to crucifixion’ .
Saint Paul contrived Jesus not as a teacher, but “Of the Holy Trinity” both a God, and, as well, an “only son of God’ .

 

—The brilliant theologian Ernest Renan, in his book Saint Paul:

 

“True Christianity, which will last forever, comes from the gospel words of Christ not from the epistles of Paul.

The writings of Paul have been a danger and a hidden rock, the causes of the principal defects of Christian theology.”

Long lists of Catholic theologians echo this dislike of the distortion and radical shift, from Paulian writings that altered Christianity so.”

 

In the definitive Christian work, “Christ or Paul?”, by  Cardinal Rev. V.A. Holmes-Gore:

 

“Let the reader contrast the true Christian standard with that of Paul and he will see the terrible betrayal of all that the Master taught. .

. . For the surest way to betray a great Teacher is to misrepresent his message. . . . That is what Paul and his followers did, and because the Church has followed Paul in his error it has failed lamentably to redeem the world. .

. . The teachings given by the blessed Master Christ, which the disciples John and Peter and James, the brother of the Master, tried in vain to defend and preserve intact were as utterly opposed to the Pauline Gospel as the light is opposed to the darkness.”

 

The famous theologian, Helmut Koester, in his The Theological Aspects of Primitive Christian Heresy:

 

“Paul himself stands in the twilight zone of heresy. In reading Paul, one immediately encounters a major difficulty. Whatever Jesus had preached did not become the content of the missionary proclamation of Paul. . . . Sayings of Jesus do not play a role in Paul ‘s understanding of the event of salvation. . . . Paul did not care at all what Jesus had said. . . . Had Paul been completely successful very little of the sayings of Jesus would have survived.”

… What would Jesus do, to remedy this?

His name is associated with a harsh religious group, which shows little of his love, acceptance,  and forgiveness for people outside their own intolerant stripe.

 

The Church reviles, gays, lesbians, transgenders, divorced people, Jews, Muslims, Hindus, adulterers, the criminally sinful and especially women, who by paternalistic rule, cannot ever become priests.

 

Jesus would have ministered to all of these with His love.

This was light-years apart from Jesus’ preaching and teachings, but one must honestly admit that, the image of a man tortured on a cross, is a demented center-piece, for ANY religion , but worse,

the focus of the Church on “Stations-of-the-Cross”,  Christ’s suffering from moment-to-moment, teaches an enduring hatred of all Jews that fueled the Holocaust.

MILITARY COMBAT MEMORY OF MY FATHER

COMBAT AND MILITARY MEMORY OF MY FATHER : I COULD HAVE TOLD HIM THAT I LOVED HIM

Combat and Military Memory of my Father: I Could Have Told Him That I Loved Him

by Paul Schroeder

My father parachuted into Germany and was captured that same week; he and his

 company buddies were holed up in a farmhouse armed with machine

guns when a Tiger Tank rolled up to it and put its muzzle into a window and fired.

He recalled his ferocious gnawing hunger and told me that at the prisoner of war camp

at night, when he slept, mice would creep into his buttoned shirt vest pocket to steal the

few crumbs of bread he had hidden there before he could awaken and slap his pocket.

He weighed eighty-eight pounds when he was liberated.

At another time, on a work detail outside and beyond the barbed wire fence, he saw a

skeletal group of Jews, literally walking skeletons, and in abject pity he threw a piece of

his bread over a fence to them, which they all frantically scrambled for.

The supervising German sergeant of those doomed Jews saw him do this and walked

over to him and put a Luger into my father’s mouth and pulled the trigger.

The gun misfired.

Twice.

His mind and lifelong emotional mental state were never the same after that incident,

and for the rest of his life he remained tortured, an unhappy and mostly unpleasant

man.

He would, many years later, angrily retrieve moldy bread and brown wilted lettuce from

the trash, raging about ,’wasted food’, and we all learned that for our peace of mind, food

garbage had to be thrown into the incinerator, long before he came home, from work.

He told me that he witnessed the killings of women who had assisted anti-Nazi resistance

fighters, women who were hung from piano wires in a slow strangulation that delighted

and entertained the German Waffen S.S.

But he seemed calm telling me that it took some over an hour to die, in this fashion, from

this form of German murder, for the the slimmest, most lightweight women who were

hanged, struggled longer against their nooses.

The prisoner of war camp’s confinement had chafed his soul.

Even long after the war he could escape the inglorious restraints and confinements of

marriage and work , to seek the open ocean to fish for striped bass and bluefish.

He loved fishing more than anything or anyone, in his life, and ached for fishing, to be

free and alone on a landscape of waves, with only gulls for company.

He spent all of his spare time, nights and weekends, alone on the open Atlantic ocean, a

peaceful landscape of land escape, far from dangerous and murderous distant coastlines.

When he thought that I was old enough to be of assistance to him, he brought me into his

escapist world of fishing solitude, and far out on the waters of the Atlantic, far from any

constricting shore, told me his memories, of a horrific war. .

When I was young, eight, nine and ten years of age, my father woke me every Friday

night at 2:00 A.M. and by three fifteen A.M. we were out in the waters of Long Island, in

his boat, fishing for striped bass and bluefish until the sun came up and fish stopped

feeding and taking lures.

We watched the gulls; wherever they were raucous and feeding, we caught many large

fish, as schools were underneath, forcing the bait to the surface, which attracted the

birds. It was a foolproof technique.

After the sun came up, we sat and jigged the bottom for fluke and flounders, languid

bottom feeders, while we sat under the shade of the Marine Parkway Bridge.

Bereft of the engine’s roar and the slap of the waves against a speeding hull, we sat, and

he would speak to me of the horrors he had seen.

Every weekend of my youth was spent this way, catching large fish.

I was agog and seasick for days afterwards.

The pitched sickness of the waves, the sharp sour stink of fish, the stench of gasoline

from the engine, the foul pungent odor of the, ‘piss-can’ and his poignant recollections of

the horrors that he had seen during the war, combined to make me deathly ill, each time

that we fished together..

I envisioned deep trenches in the furrows of the waves, filled with sobbing, and doomed

families of Jews, as German Waffen S.S. driven bulldozers, pushed tons of soil atop them,

to bury them, alive.

Once, after listening to such tales, told in his low, monotone voice, I eventually noticed

that each time I netted and landed a fish into the boat, the water would swirl and splash

a few seconds afterwards, and I asked my father the cause of this bizarre occurrence.

He blithely told me, casting a lure from the boat, that the fish’s mate would break the

water, seeking his lost mate, following after, in a futile search.

In that moment, with the boat at my feet filled with flopping fish, jaws gaping in airy

suffocation, the horrors in his stories resurfaced:

dead children in the streets, who resembled dolls, their jaws and eyes open,

skeletal Jews with pleading eyes,

children murdered before their parents’ eyes,

of a Waffen S.S. who used his machine pistol to separate a close knit family, and of their

wails of separation, which years later, would ring in my father’s head.

I suddenly realized, in horror, that each swirl and splash of water, after I had pulled one

fish into the boat, was a mate and thus a broken heart, that fish were individuals, with

feelings, and not just mere products!

The horror of fish, dead and dying at my feet, of loved ones’ final, forceful separation, in

a frozen moment, broke my young heart, and I found and resolved, that I could no longer

bear to catch, or to ever again, eat fish.

Recalling these memories is not a freeing and therapeutic catharsis, instead I feel a sad

nostalgia, a morbid whimsy .

As a writer, it is difficult to capture the strained, forced familiarity of families’ troubled

interactions, governed by fruits of traumas, into words.

I have carefully locked the vault door against the worst recollections, the horrors of

living with him; he had absorbed the repeated brutality of his experiences.

Throughout life, he radiated the same heavy-handed violence to those all around him,

using fists, where a word, instead, might suffice.

Those recollections, if unlocked behind my mind’s protective vault doors, would make

these experiences, herein, pale, by comparison.

When I can hazard to open those vault doors, doors made of three feet of steel,

therapeutic and freeing might then ensue.

Debriefing combat troops, is still nonexistent; one arrives fresh from combat to San

Diego Airport or Kennedy International Airport.

The injuries that our most recent troops have sustained in Iraq and Afghanistan, unseen

and unmeasured injuries, are deep and painful scars on their souls;

many, after drug and alcohol addiction fails to assuage their grief, take their own lives, in

suicides suffering from combat angst beyond words.

I recall General Patton coming under criticism for slapping the face of and calling a

coward, a young soldier, in a field hospital, who was trembling, with severe shell shock.

Even the military fails to understand what happens to America’s young men who have

been taught all of their lives,”Thou shalt not kill”, after they are trained to be killing

machines and then aptly fill the job description for a tour of duty.

Americans must unite to reluctantly resolve to fight a broader world war with ISIS, for

though America does NOT want war, WAR wants America.

America, is NOT at war, for America is busy shopping in malls; our military, however, IS

at war.

Their souls are forever tainted, degraded and crippled by official legal murders.

How is one to understand?

Rather than wrongly judging that my father wallowed in these memories, he instead was

surely drowning, within a deeper struggle, far removed from self pity.

Though he never once told me, within the recollections of the circle of my life, that he

loved me, I found that I instead should have told him then, and often, that I loved him .

EPILOGUE:

Just before he died, at eighty-four, after a lifetime of no contact with him, I visited him at

the Saint Albans Veterans Hospital Facility.

How I learned that he was there, is a paranormal story beyond belief, but one reserved

for another time.

Even after a stroke and a heart attack, confined to a wheelchair, his bristling aggression

and smoldering anger had still radiated.

He had angrily cursed God, when I did mention God, to him; he had repeatedly cursed

God, saying that there was no God and as proof, offered me what he had seen, of the long

ago mass murders of Jewish infants and children, by Ukrainians and Nazi Waffen S.S.

troops.

He had repeated that because of raw evil allowed to run rampant, he was thus an atheist,

one who didn’t believe a single word about God and then, he had openly cursed God,

again.

I had chided him by saying that although God WAS all loving, that even God, might get

annoyed, to be cursed so.

As for wholesale murder of innocents I reminded him:

‘Church taught hatred of Jews, as murderers of Jesus Christ, fueled the Holocaust, the

Inquisition, pogroms, ghettos, and rabid antisemitism and NOBODY hates the Church,

more than Jews, nobody…’

Slowly, I had realized a more positive note, an element of rescue,  a spiritual coup de’

grace:

I had been driven by unseen forces, after twenty-five years of no contact,  to bring along

to his bedside, a spiritual message to deliver to him.

I said that he was wrong; that the proof of God only seemed so invisible because it was

too merged within our consciousness and within everything all around us, to be too

easily detected.

I had told him that I had, over years of learning, away from him, become psychic enough

to glean more:

that we are NOT people, having spiritual/ paranormal experiences, but are  undying

spirits, within a DNA nanotech-contrived housing, instead, having human experiences.

That we ‘step out of’ our bodies at death, as we do our cars and our clothing, in physical

life.

And we are no more our bodies, I had said, than we are our clothing, or our vehicles.

I had assured him that I had learned that our consciousness actually reincarnated often,

to learn spiritual lessons, that God gives us many lifetimes to refine our souls and to

learn lessons that we set out for ourselves.

With some pride, I had reminded him that his lifetime’s recollections of horrid war

experiences, revealed a braver and nobler inner spirit, than most, to have chosen such

harsh and horrid lessons.

He quietly listened, with no vague inkling of acceptance.

A week later, preparing to visit him, again, I got a phone call from the hospital that he

had passed in the night from a second and final heart attack.

Some months later, while I was playing my bass guitar, (playing music, much like sleep,

or hypnotic television watching seems to suppress my left brain’s blocking aspect, and

paranormal experiences occur) in my living room, his face suddenly loomed into my

mind’s eye and I suddenly felt his closeness.

Instead of an accompanying sad heaviness, his energy radiated a youthful joyous

presence.

Stunned, I psychically acknowledged him, with love, but also with great worry; I

cautiously admonished him for hazarding to linger so on this plane, and asked him to

quickly jump into the Light.

His accompanying joy, a mixture of freedom from worry, from bed-worn immobility,

from war-time sadness, with an element of love and thanks, thrilled me.

Perhaps, I had I had been sought to deliver that message, to him, in much needed time.