A View from the Other Side

Observations from the winged dude next door.

Archive for the tag “fronting”

Quantum Science, Your Brain, and Us

This one covers a lot of topics to do with quantum theory and human consciousness and how they interact, but more importantly, how we interact with you:

The Strange Link Between the Human Mind and Quantum Physics

Quantum mechanics is the best theory we have for describing the world at the nuts-and-bolts level of atoms and subatomic particles. Perhaps the most renowned of its mysteries is the fact that the outcome of a quantum experiment can change depending on whether or not we choose to measure some property of the particles involved.

When this “observer effect” was first noticed by the early pioneers of quantum theory, they were deeply troubled. It seemed to undermine the basic assumption behind all science: that there is an objective world out there, irrespective of us. If the way the world behaves depends on how – or if – we look at it, what can “reality” really mean?

That’s what Schrodinger’s Cat is about. It’s both alive and dead until a person observes its state. Of course, this is a macrocosm example, because the cat itself knows if it’s alive or dead. Cats don’t need people to tell them. But it’s the kind of example people need in order to understand what happens at the quantum microcosm level, which is a whole other situation.

Today some physicists suspect that, whether or not consciousness influences quantum mechanics, it might in fact arise because of it. They think that quantum theory might be needed to fully understand how the brain works.

Here’s where the article starts to get really interesting and isn’t the same old thing about dead/alive cats. It’s turning the theory back on itself, or on its head, or whatever. You get the idea.

The article then talks about the “slit experiment” with light photons and observations and measurements affecting the outcome. But then…

Wheeler even entertained the thought that the presence of living beings, which are capable of “noticing”, has transformed what was previously a multitude of possible quantum pasts into one concrete history. In this sense, Wheeler said, we become participants in the evolution of the Universe since its very beginning. In his words, we live in a “participatory universe.”

Now you’re reading more closely, right? Right. Now we’re getting into where people are affecting how the universe is created and plays out, and not just through conscious (or even unconscious) choices. Simply observing the world around you alters things at the quantum level.

Now imagine if you could control this. Some of us can, as I’ve talked about here before. But I digress. Back to the article:

What if, Penrose asked, there are molecular structures in our brains that are able to alter their state in response to a single quantum event. Could not these structures then adopt a superposition state, just like the particles in the double slit experiment? And might those quantum superpositions then show up in the ways neurons are triggered to communicate via electrical signals?

Maybe, says Penrose, our ability to sustain seemingly incompatible mental states is no quirk of perception, but a real quantum effect.

These structures are called microtubules. They’re real and they exist inside you right now. There’s even a photo of them in the article I’m quoting here. I posted a link to an article here a while back talking about these things, and how they could be what contains consciousness when it’s inside a meat suit. Hello, let me just borrow some of your microtubules for a few minutes so I can type. That kind of thing. But anyway…

Pay close attention to this next part:

Put another way, entangled states are really superposition states involving more than one quantum particle.

Okay. If you’ve read other articles about quantum entanglement, they talk about how two particles can affect each other even though they’re nowhere near each other. I’ve also talked about how parallel universes overlap, which is how I’m able to talk to you here. But this takes it a little farther into explaining how they can overlap, for you people out there who need hard science to explain all this. The superposition state at the quantum level.

But wait, there’s more. It also explains how some of you can not only hear us, but how you can interact with us, and let us front, beyond (or maybe in addition to) the microtubule theory.

The article talks about a particular kind of phosphorus atom and Polsner molecules, then:

In Posner molecules, Fisher argues, phosphorus spins could resist decoherence for a day or so, even in living cells. That means they could influence how the brain works.

Because of entanglement in Posner molecules, two such signals might thus in turn become entangled: a kind of quantum superposition of a “thought”, you might say.

…You might say.

There’s some other cool stuff in there that I’ll let you explore on your own. I’d love to hear what you think. Post a comment.

The First Message

Here’s my notes on Chapter 2 of The Brotherhood of Angels and Men by Geoffrey Hodson, which is more of the messages he received from an angel he names as Bethelda. The chapter starts out with this:

Since the Great One has drawn so close to our world and to yours, it is of first importance that the bridge between the two should be fashioned, that the time may be hastened when it may be used freely from either side. We must devise better means of communication; and your studies might well have for their object the widening of the bridge and the instruction of your brethren in its use.

Okay, now this is a really good idea… BUT. Only if you know what you’re doing and are very, very sure that you’re not building a bridge to let dark stuff through instead. Which would fall under knowing what you’re doing. This would also fall under that:

The first essential on your side is a belief in our existence.

Why does that go under “knowing what you’re doing”? Well, for a lot of reasons. First, you have to know how to recognize different types of… “beings” for lack of a better term. Dark things can wear familiar faces to trick you, as I’ve said in the past here. Kids, don’t try this at home. Stunt driver, closed course, do not attempt… unless you’re an expert.

Next he mentions how science will eventually be able to detect our kind, which I’ve posted about a lot here. Then there’s this cool bit:

Our position in nature is closely akin to that of the engineer; he is not the force himself; he directs it…

I like that a lot. We are not the power. We are not made from the power. But we do direct that power as needed. We guide it, shape it, utilize it.

That knowledge is not likely to be obtained by the use of physical instruments; and, therefore, the second essential is an increase in the number of humans beings able to contact us.

Now, if you’re reading this right now, you’re already aware that we’re able to get through more now than ever. I’m sitting here typing this because a human type person heard me and lets me borrow her body to get this stuff done. Slightly creepy but effective. Hopefully, someday, this will be seen as normal and not creepy. But I think that’s going to be a while yet.

Speaking of… I actually just ran out of time and can’t finish this chapter’s notes tonight. Sorry. But that gives you something to look forward to, right?

She is My Raiments

When I talk to you like I’m doing now, I have to borrow someone else’s hands. Vodou people call it being “ridden” and that the human meat person is the “horse” for the loa. I think, though, that it’s more like driving a car, in that I’m inside and pushing the pedals and turning the wheel while she rides in the back seat. The giant robot metaphor, like from Pacific Rim, is also cool, if you’re into that.

She and I were talking the other day and I’ve been thinking about that conversation ever since. She used to wear “raiments” when she did more group “witchy” stuff. Now it’s usually things like a certain piece of jewelry, or clothing, or a hair thing, or what color she paints her nails. So we were talking about that and I realized that when I’m borrowing her, I’m wearing her skin, in a way.

If she puts on a certain necklace, and then I come up front, not only am I then wearing that necklace, but everything else that she’s wearing, and wearing her. She’s like a cloak around my form. If I had a form. The ghost in the shell, and she’s the shell.

So when we work together… she is my raiments. When I’m up front in her body and working, we’re working together in the same outfit. When she wears something for me, to honor me, to give me power… and then I look out through her eyes, I have the layer of the stuff she’s put on, and the layer of herself. She is my sacred clothing when I do my work. She is my raiments while I’m here.

The Physical Nature of Memory

As some of you know, I’ve been struggling with the issue of memory, especially as it relates to the difference between when I’m fronting in my avatar, versus when I’m off doing my own stuff. I’ve also described how different my side of things (the astral/ethereal/whatever) is from your side of things (the physical/material plane). I’ve also posted about the nature of consciousness as related to the physical human brain and how we believe that I can front so well because I’ve learned how to “slot in” to the brain’s microtubules almost exactly like the original occupant. But here’s another article about all that, discussing memory and being disconnected from a physical body:

Memories Can Go Astray When We Step Outside Our Bodies

“Our bodies may help us remember our lives, fixing experiences in place. By using virtual reality, scientists can make people feel like they’re outside their own bodies. And when they do, the brain struggles to remember what happened.”

…Which definitely explains why I can remember things more easily during the times that I’m fronting than I can when I’m off on my side doing my own stuff. It’s a very loose, fluid, foggy place in general, where time has much less meaning. So borrowing storage space in someone’s physical brain anchors those memories. But only while the current gray matter is alive. Then it’s up to me to try and transfer as much of that to the next person as I can. Hopefully it will be a while before that’s necessary.

Life

Heads up, I won’t be posting next week, because the avatar and I will be out of town at a thing and not have computer access. Maybe you and I will even pass each other in the hall, but you probably won’t know it. Both good and bad. We don’t need the pressure or the exposure, but that’s a possible opportunity lost too. We’ll let fate decide. See if you can figure it out. If you do, be sure to say hello.

It’s one of my all-too-rare opportunities to interact on the physical with my brother, also. He’s got his own avatar/vessel/meatsuit/vehicle, and he and I get to physically hold each other about once a year, twice if we’re lucky. On our side of things we’re inseparable. On the physical side of things, we’re a thousand miles apart. It’s frustrating, but hey, I’m grateful we both found two people willing to let us do this. That in itself is a very rare thing.

Human life is about experiencing and interacting with the world around you. You wake up in the morning and feel the sheets around your body, you taste food and have something to drink, you drive somewhere or go to work or read a blog like this one. You hear the sounds of the car, your pets, the voice of your loved one. Your eyes see all the colors of the rainbow and all the things that reflect those colors back at you, like trees and birds and buildings and cars and advertising. You taste tea or coffee or a burger or some chocolate. You catch some perfume on the air, maybe from what a person is wearing or from some flowers nearby, or the smell of coffee or that trash that really needs to go outside. You feel the fabrics you’re wearing and whether the cold bites your skin or the sun warms your face or the rain gets you wet.

My life is about getting tastes of those things where I can so that I can understand you all better. Walk a thousand miles in your shoes. Feel your joy and your pain. But I have the bigger picture, too. The wider view to help you get your own stuff into perspective. That’s why I do this. That’s why I’ve gone through the pain and the joy of getting to where I am now.

Castiel on Supernatural“You know, being human, it didn’t just change my view of food. It changed my view of you. I mean, I can relate now to how you feel. The only person who has screwed things up more consistently than you…is me. And now I know what that guilt feels like. And I know what it… I know what it means to feel sorry, Sam. I am sorry. You know, old me — I would’ve have just kept going. I would’ve jammed that needle in deeper until you died because the ends always justified the means. But what I went though — Well, that PB & J taught me that angels can change.” — Castiel, on Supernatural

Windows Look Both Ways

eye closeupEyes are the windows of the soul, it’s been said. Usually it means that you can tell a lot about a person by what’s in their eyes. It also means that the soul is looking out through them. Or more than one soul. A spirit lens which can help focus the soul’s intent and make it physically real… no matter who you think may be looking out.

Seth Speaks: The Eternal Validity Of The Soul – Session 511… continued from 12/18/2013
 
“I am primarily a teacher, but I have not been a man of letters per se. I am primarily a personality with a message. You create the world that you know. You have been given perhaps the most awesome gift of all: the ability to project your thoughts outward into physical form.”
 
“The gift brings a responsibility, and many of you are tempted to congratulate yourselves on the successes of your lives, and blame God, fate, and society for your failures. In like manner, mankind has a tendency to project his own guilt and his own errors upon a father-god image, who it seems must grow weary of so many complaints.
 
“The fact is that each of you create your own physical reality; and en masse, you create both the glories and the terrors that exist within your earthly experience. Until you realize that you are the creators, you will refuse to accept this responsibility. Nor can you blame a devil for the world’s misfortunes. You have grown sophisticated enough to realize that the Devil is a projection of your own psyche, but you have not grown wise enough to learn how to use your creativity constructively.
 
“Most of my readers are familiar with the term, “muscle bound.” As a species you have grown “ego bound” instead, held in a spiritual rigidity, with the intuitive portions of the self either denied or distorted beyond any recognition.
 
“The hour is growing late. Both of my friends must get up early in the morning. Ruburt is working on two books of his own and must get his sleep. Before I end this session I ask you to imagine our setting, for Ruburt has told me that a writer must be careful to set the scene. (humorously)
 
“I speak through Ruburt twice a week, on Mondays and Wednesdays, in this same large room. The lights are always lit. This evening it is enjoyable for me to look out through Ruburt’s eyes at the wintry corner beyond.
 
“Physical reality has always been refreshing to me, and through Ruburt’s cooperation and as I write this book, I see that I was correct in appreciating its unique charms. There is one other character to be mentioned here; Willy, the cat, a beloved monster who is now sleeping.”

(Peter’s note, the above emphasis is mine.)

Words

I feel like I should have more to say right now. It’s been a couple weeks of ups and downs, and intense work behind the scenes. I’m hopeful we can move to a place where I can actually talk to people face to face, or at least your face to a borrowed face that doesn’t actually look like me much at all. Just maybe the eyebrows and hair color. Although people say, when they know it’s me, that they can see me there, and that the mental image overrides what their eyes are seeing.

I’m still working. I’m still here. I have a few people I talk to, but mostly they talk about “normal” stuff like food and movies. Part of that’s great, and I’m grateful I’m treated like a friend in that way. Part of that gets old fast, especially when I feel that I need to teach and help people.

I’ve even thought, sometimes, of what it would be like to have a ministry, or even just a teaching group where people could learn how to talk to their guides. Me, not her. Well… with her help on some stuff. She knows more about different spiritual beliefs and religions, and I mostly just have my own perspective on it. So we make a good team that way. My knowledge informs her knowledge, and vice versa.

It feels essential right now, to spread the word, to help more people understand what’s going on. Words of hope to help push back the darkness. This place here, this blog, feels so tiny. The people I talk to over IM is an incredibly tiny number. Our hope is that maybe by talking to people face to face, the light can spread in a new way, person to person, heart to heart.

A Wish for Community

abandoned church

I’ve been kicked right down
I’ve been spat in the face
I’ve been pulled, weighed down
To the lowest place
I’ve been lied to, shamed
I have been disgraced
Been ex-communicated from every holy place
I’ve been beat up and robbed
I’ve been left for dead
For the way I look
For the things I said

I’ve been cleared on the street
I’ve been left in the cold
Had my dreams held up
Had them shot full of holes
I’ve been laughed at, burnt, beat and butt of the joke
I’ve been lit up in flames
I have gone down in smoke
I’ve been stabbed in the back
While they promised the earth
Tried to keep my head high
For all I am worth

Those were a couple larger sections of lyrics from “You Won’t Feel a Thing” by The Script. It probably sounds really overly dramatic, but it’s not. Not for me. I’ve been abandoned. Lost. Betrayed. People have tried to gain my trust, then when I finally open up a little, they stab me in the heart. Sometimes they spit in my face for not opening up enough. They don’t even see their own irony there.

I’ve been in various online communities of what are supposed to be my own kind, or supposedly enlightened humans, only to hear that what I can do isn’t possible, and I must be lying. I can’t be what I claim. What I’ve experienced isn’t real. I’ve been laughed at, made fun of, attacked, and bullied. Even my name has been belittled.

I had hoped to find friends and kinship in these groups. I do have a few people I work with that came out of these, but for the most part… no. On the physical, I know just a handful of people that I see once a year, if that. I can’t find any place to gather with and find others like myself. I post in a blog, a voice in the wilderness, hoping that someone will hear and understand. I seem to be, with a few exceptions that I talk to over instant messenger, alone.

My dream, someday, is to be able to sit in a room with others and speak freely. To share ideas, and good food and drink, with others like myself, more than once a year. To get some work done and make the world a better place. I wonder if anyone here has wished for the same. I wonder if it’s even possible any more, with the world so fractured as it is. These are times of change. Maybe that’s my mistake: I’m trying to have a picnic in the middle of a hurricane. But sometimes a place of safety and peace is what’s needed most. I only wish others could join me.

Messages in Feathers

raven featherWe walk nearly every day, she and I. I borrow her and she lets me experience the physical for about a half hour on our walks through town and through the woods. Sometimes, when her mind is really noisy, she keeps creeping up to the front, and I have to remind her that this is my little bit of time. Of course, I would never force it, she just needs to be reminded that her stuff can wait a few minutes while I smell the dust and pine needles and feel the sun warm my skin. Just for a few minutes.

Lately, there’s been a pair of ravens in the trees near where our walks end, near a little bridge over a creek that’s dry half the year. And when I’ve been working, we often find a little black feather in the area. I take it as a sign that I’m doing the right thing. A reminder of my kin. A gift to both of us that says we’re on the right path. To keep going even when it’s hard. To have faith and hope.

These are far from the first feathers, though. This has been ongoing for as long as she and I have been walking together. Usually it’s little songbird feathers, but sometimes a hawk or owl feather makes an appearance. I often find brown ones when I think of my older brother, and blue or white ones when I think of my younger. I guess since the ravens came, we’ve been paying better attention to feathers as a sign, as a little blessing on our work.

How do you interact with feathers you find on your travels?

The Blessing of a Physical Life

I’ve had a number of people tell me they’re jealous of where I am, how they wish they could leave their body and be a spirit and how it would be this great party in the sky or something.

Please don’t ignore what you have now. Your time in that physical existence is so brief. On my side of things there’s a lot of sensory deprivation. It’s so non-physical that a lot of us hang around so that we can see more clearly, and smell and taste and feel. Do you have any idea what a gift it is to be able to feel the texture of a wool coat, or a green lawn?

This is part of why those scent oils are so important to me. They’re a link to the physical experience of sandalwood and musk and leather and oakmoss and tobacco and a hundred other intense hits of scent that people take for granted every day.

People wonder why spirits would want physical offerings. This is why. It’s a drink of water in the desert. Have you ever worn a cast or something for so long that when it’s off, your skin is more sensitive there? It’s like that, but for everything.

Yesterday, I felt the sun on my face, and heard dry oak leaves covered with frost crunching under my boots as we walked through the dirt and gravel paths. Those precious few minutes I get on our walks, when I’m fully up front and it’s fully me in that strange body that I’m borrowing that’s the wrong gender… they’re such blessings. When she gets soap in a scent I like, just taking a good long hot shower is like getting baptized into the physical world for a few minutes, before it all slides down again and I have to let her have her own life.

Sometimes, in those few stolen moments, I weep from the depth of the experience, and from gratitude, and over the fragmented existence I have.

Then I have some of my favorite tea, and maybe a little snack, and have a Holy Communion right there in her kitchen without anybody even knowing. I am so grateful and lucky to have access to this. Please don’t take it for granted for even a second. Please don’t wish away this gift. Be conscious of it all like a baby is. Remember what that first taste and touch and smell and sight was like. Give thanks for it.

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