Galactic Maya

Glimpses into wider realities and observations during life on planet Earth

Page 16

August 08, 1998: Well, I met a guy named Joe for dinner this evening in response to a singles ad (I cannot believe I did that!).  We had a pleasant conversation, but I could hear myself saying occasionally What am I doing here?  I didn’t feel an attraction, but Joe could be a good friend I suppose.  Anyway, I arrived home about 10:30 p.m. to find Poppy wide-awake on the couch, waiting for me.  It was poignant, and I was so full of love for Poppy.
Bandit was also waiting for me and he was completely obsessing about something he either felt or saw around me.  He had the eyes and posture of frenetic madness as he pawed and pulled and even bit me trying to pull something away from me.  It was phenomenal.  He lay at my side all night.

August 09, 1998: I awoke this morning to Bandit on my chest, still grabbing at something but not so intensely.  Perhaps I picked up the energy of someone in that restaurant, some projection from someone.  However, as I contemplate on this, I get the impression that this energy has a green aura and words like jealousy and envy pop into my mind.  No, I don’t think it was from someone in the restaurant, unless some old girlfriend was also there; it feels more distant, from afar.  Anyway, Bandit seems to have it all under control, and I feel fine, so I’m not going to worry about it.  Humm……Aaron?
I was making our coffee when Poppy came strolling down the hall from his bedroom with a mischievous smile on his face and twirling the terrycloth belt attached to his robe.  I said “Oh, great night, huh?”  He just continued into the living room with this I’m not going to tell you look and sat in his chair.  I suspect that mom had a hand in this (oh, thank you MOM!).  Soon, however, the energy was completely gone from him.

August 10, 1998: Oh, no.  I feel another philosophical tremor coming on.  Here goes:  If the Spirit, the pure consciousness that animates our physical structure is unchanged and obviously well able to leave the body intact and join where it is that it joins, then why do we as human beings feels so disconnected from it?  We emote, feel pain, elation, disappointment, love, compassion, and yet our Spiritual essence seems to remain unscathed and detached.  Perhaps its function is as a memory bank, a totally objective recording device that retains the experiences encountered both in and out of the body, which seems to be just one of various experiences the Soul endeavors to seek. NDEs (near-death experiencers) show us that the conscious self/aware self is capable of surviving the termination of the physical body, able not only to observe the surroundings they have left behind, but also to activate thought alone to move instantly from “place” to “place”.  But the puzzle to me is this:  How do we integrate this completely placid, peaceful, objective Spirit/Intellect/Consciousness into our ordinary earthly experience so that we can raise ourselves beyond even the thought of hurting, abusing, or manipulating another?
Actually, I see two memory banks here.  One is ordinary memory that resides somewhat in or around the brain.  It records all experience right down to every single perception and sensation we have experienced consciously or unconsciously.  It’s like my computer software.  When I type in a word or phrase that I have typed before, the software matches it to any previous entries that were the same or similar, letting me choose whether to use it or not.  Then, there is a second detached memory bank connected to Universal Life Force that objectively stores all events through all human consciousness for all time.
Agh!  I am too thoroughly absorbed in this thought.  Gives me headaches.  I better find something to do to get back to earth for awhile!

August 13, 1998: I tried for two hours to get some sleep this morning, but no matter how comfortable I felt, no matter how much I meditated on placid thoughts, I could not fall even into a twilight sleep.  Something had been keeping me awake and it is not anxiety.  I finally just had to get up and fiddle with an idea I have for a demonstration today that conveys a principle of spiritual blockage to Reiki apprentices.  It involves oil, water, and solvent.
The water represents the Universal Life Force.  The air above it is our earthly life force.  Together they should freely exchange life-sustaining energy on an atomic level.  But somehow, this primitive and pure symbiosis became separated at the onset of the last Great Year (about 2100 years ago) by a membrane or Veil of Separation (oil).  Reiki provides the prospect of reconnection (the solvent) to this ULF.

(Later): Well, I tried to put forth my water-oil-solvent analogy to the other Reiki practitioners, but they decided that they wanted to blow up balloons, put personal messages on them, and release them into the sky as a mental exercise in letting go.
Whatever works.

August 15, 1998: While coming into Poppy’s room this morning to straighten it up, I noticed something, but I felt so matter-of-fact about it, I am amazed that it has just now hit me, and that is:
I went to change his bed sheets and noticed that on the foot of the bed on the side where mom used to sleep, there was clearly a deep indentation on the bedding.  I had presumed that Poppy had sat there earlier for awhile.  I smiled like I acknowledged something and then I somehow just forgot about it.  I changed the bed, using that famous hospital-fold technique mom taught me at a young age.  Later, coming back into the room to clean the bathroom off the side, I saw the clearly defined impression on the bedding just as it was earlier.  I so matter-of-factly intuited it was mom that I just smiled, waved, and went about my business.  I just was not at all impacted by rational thinking here.  All day long, it was not even a question in my mind.
Then, just a few minutes before Poppy went to bed this evening, he said sweetly, “I need to go to bed—it’s where I can find much comfort.”
I immediately flashed on the repeated impressions I saw on the bed today, and I was suddenly awake to what was transpiring.  Awesome.

August 19, 1998: This morning the local newspaper headline was about the son of Mike Machado, Chris, who was killed in a tractor accident on their ranch in Linden.  Mike Machado is apparently an assemblyman from that area of the county.  I was immediately recalling then a dream I had many years ago that vividly had “Machado” referenced!  By golly, I looked it up and found that I had written down the dream 11 years ago on 02/19/1987!   It was about a young man named “Machado” who just had an accident while driving a trailer of some sort on a country road.  It tipped over and killed him.  That is almost exactly what really  happened to Chris Machado yesterday, 11 years later!  I did not then, and do not now, know anyone personally named Machado, but of all things my son,  who was here when I started discussing this, said “Oh, just a few days ago I met Chris!.”
Now, this really makes me wonder just how far into what we call “time” our minds can unconsciously venture.  Can this really be coincidental?  I think not.   In that 1987 dream, I was in a ranch house comforting two older women after the accident.
But, why would an event not connected in any way to my own family [until my son met him just a few days ago–linchpin?] and friends become so uncannily connected by 11 years elapsing between dream and reality?  What am I to learn from this?  Is it simply a demonstration for me to understand that time is a man-made invention only and that thought vibrations can and do transcend time?  People have had dreams or premonitions throughout human history, but usually associated with something occurring rather shortly thereafter.  But 11 years?  However, Nostradamus was able to transcend centuries—he has me beat by several centuries, ha!

August 20, 1998: I was just watching the very sad media proceedings concerning this Clinton tar-and-feather event, but I am suddenly having a vision here, and I am going to write it as I see it.

I am seeing a very tall building with a red sign way up high.  The Hilton? Palm trees…Miami?–this building tapers somehow, like I am looking way up high on it from close range. The sense of green flora in large planters on a pedestrian mall—a white sheet or flag hangs out of a window. I feel right now like this building or place is on a terrorist-like target list. Very clustered and high buildings around.

I better let this go because it is just too weird.  Now, as I write, a commerical for Ramada Inn just came on. (Ramadon?)

August 22, 1998: One of my positive thoughts as I was making coffee was knowing that when I have reviewed my life in a retrospective way, I have always seen the reason and the wisdom of even the most traumatic events; how every phase has been like a stepping stone and perfectly aligned to fulfill and teach me.  So I said to myself:  Why in the world should I doubt my circumstances now? Should I suddenly think my life to be off course, stagnant, unfulfilled? Or, should I continue to recognize that this is not what it seems and that even now, I am learning so much and preparing for a new life?
My heart feels much better, more optimistic this morning because I am just beginning to step upon the next stone.  During the past 14 months, I have had the time to reconstruct my thoughts, learn Reiki principles, meet spiritually knowledgeable people, read great books like The Silver Chalice and now Quo Vadis.  Is it just coincidental that these literary works that speak of faith and courage in the face of adversity have somehow been slipped into my hands?  No, I think not.  They only found me when I was mindlessly watching over the bookstore in Auburn for my friends a few months past.  Not books I would have sought, but they did find me.  Thank God.

August 24, 1998: For about 45 minutes now, I have felt an incredibly heavy feeling.  It started with some sudden, very vague sense that is permeating the house.  Something makes me feel as if I should be on guard, ready to act.  Perhaps between the unborn baby’s energy and Poppy’s energy, a psychic charge is actuating.
(Later): Dircy, the lady who has visited with my father once a year since 1944 to see the picture of her brother’s grave (in my father’s WWII military album) just called to see when would be the best time to come and visit Poppy.   She said “I really feel I need to see him very soon.”
(Later): Now Aunt Yvonne has called, and she plans to take the train to see us next week, something she would not ordinarily do with her advancing age.  She, too, remarked that she needed to see him “right away.”

It appears that we women are linked in some understanding that Poppy is approaching the end days of this life.

September 03, 1998: Poppy’s dream:

I am looking at a most beautiful painting of a rose–a color that is spectacular! Alex Haily (author of the book “Roots”) is somehow around. I am just mesmerized by this rose, and I want to protect it.

Well, this might explain the heightened intuition between Dircy, Yvonne, and me.  The rose symbolizes the feminine principle, the Goddess energy.

September 03, 1998: CNN is reporting a McDonald-Douglas (MD-11) jumbo jet has just crashed off the coast of Nova Scotia, Flight 111, and 229 souls have just departed us.  “It’s very…it hits home when you find that changing your mind saves your life.”  This was just stated by a Swiss golf pro who was suppose to be on that flight but canceled it to get one more day of practice on his golf swing.  A simple little thing such as rearranging a thought was literally a choice of life or death for this man–the principle of quantum physics would state that in his parallel “life” he was on that plane, having made the other choice.
(Later): I had hoped to get to the healing center this evening, but Poppy came home at 4 p.m. and nearly fell in the door.  He was so weak and pale.  I will go ahead and shower, and then play this by ear.

To Page 17

Written by Galactic Maya

March 15, 2008 at 8:43 pm

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  1. […] I had the impression that they were only pure intelligence/consciousness but were appearing somewhat human for my benefit. They seemed like Ambassadors from a highly advanced realm on a mission of some kind, which still amazes me because I am about the last person I would think of that such “informed Beings” would want to visit in a dream state. I have no credentials at all on this subject. I can do no more with it than just throw my experience into the brew of millions of other strange stories out there for the sake of posterity. However, I have documented at least one dream in my 1986 journal that actually occurred in great detail 11 years later. [Page 16 in Poppy: August 19, 1998 entry] […]


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