Death is creeping up on all of us. We all know this fact, and yet when coming face to face with it for the first time in a very personal manner, I'm scared out of my mind.
I've lost people and pet's over the years, and I'm always left with a void in my heart in honor of that person. My Grandpa has been ill for the last couple of years, in and out of the hospital, functioning at times, and at other times, not at all. It hurts me to the core to watch him suffer.
The scary part, after all these years, is that it's finally coming close to the time that it's going to be a reality. Possibly one of the saddest thing I've ever had to experience. He has had Empahzima for years, and yes... cigarettes did it!
My grandpa, in many ways has been that father figure fulfilled in my life. He took me on vacations, traveling with Myself, My sister, and Grandma. Allowing for us to see some of the most amazing sights available in the united states. Mt. Rushmore, Yellowstone national forest, the great redwoods, The Grand Canyon, and the many little hidden away Indian villages across the states. I have so many great memories from these trips. Getting lost on the Indian trails, Him tricking us into believing he was going to slip and fall into the Grand Canyon, Visiting the sand dunes, and believing they were Quick sand, My sister and i getting royally busted by the people traveling behind us on the highway for discarding an entire box of tissues, one at a time, out of the back window of the car... Staying in a hotel and singing The song "It's raining , it's pouring, the old man is snoring," and actually having him get out of bed and bump his head on the T.v. attached to the wall. And my most favorite memory ever, being in Girl scouts, about 8 years old, and having My grandpa accompany me as my date for the father daughter sock hop.. where Casey was also accompanied by Uncle Donny, grandpas brother. I will always cherish my amazing relationship with him, and I am so glad to have been able to have so many great times in my life shared with him. I will forever have the image of me and him sitting at that table at the sock hop, sipping out of the same milkshake with two straws.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Mother Of The Night
The moon watches over us
Like a Mother of the Night.
She sees through the darkness
With her soft and silvery light.
She peeks in on each one of us
And watches as we dream,
Gently placing kisses
With every new moonbeam.
She covers us with shadows
As she tiptoes 'cross the sky.
She checks on all her children
As she slowly passes by.
Like a Mother of the Night.
She sees through the darkness
With her soft and silvery light.
She peeks in on each one of us
And watches as we dream,
Gently placing kisses
With every new moonbeam.
She covers us with shadows
As she tiptoes 'cross the sky.
She checks on all her children
As she slowly passes by.
The spirit of marijuana
The spirit of
marijuana is female. She is alluring, very seductive. In her presence
time passes almost without one noticing. Her sweet fragrance
intoxicates the senses and uplifts the mind. She is delighted by heroic
men and sensual women. When a couple shares marijuana, they are
allowing her participation in their relationship. Accepting their
invitation, the spirit of marijuana adds spontaneity and humor, and
also acts as a potent initiator. By bringing the couple into her
dimension, the spirit of marijuana exalts and magnifies both love and
sensitivity.
marijuana is female. She is alluring, very seductive. In her presence
time passes almost without one noticing. Her sweet fragrance
intoxicates the senses and uplifts the mind. She is delighted by heroic
men and sensual women. When a couple shares marijuana, they are
allowing her participation in their relationship. Accepting their
invitation, the spirit of marijuana adds spontaneity and humor, and
also acts as a potent initiator. By bringing the couple into her
dimension, the spirit of marijuana exalts and magnifies both love and
sensitivity.
Abracadabra
By Abracadabra we signify
An infinite number of things.
'Tis the answer to What? and How? and Why?
And Whence? and Whither? — a word whereby
The Truth (with the comfort it brings)
Is open to all who grope in night,
Crying for Wisdom's holy light.
Whether the word is a verb or a noun
Is knowledge beyond my reach.
I only know that 'tis handed down.
From sage to sage,
From age to age —
An immortal part of speech!
Of an ancient man the tale is told
That he lived to be ten centuries old,
In a cave on a mountain side.
(True, he finally died.)
The fame of his wisdom filled the land,
For his head was bald, and you'll understand
His beard was long and white
And his eyes uncommonly bright.
Philosophers gathered from far and near
To sit at his feat and hear and hear,
Though he never was heard
To utter a word
But "Abracadabra, abracadab,
Abracada, abracad,
Abraca, abrac, abra, ab!"
'Twas all he had,
'Twas all they wanted to hear, and each
Made copious notes of the mystical speech,
Which they published next —
A trickle of text
In the meadow of commentary.
Mighty big books were these,
In a number, as leaves of trees;
In learning, remarkably — very!
He's dead,
As I said,
And the books of the sages have perished,
But his wisdom is sacredly cherished.
In Abracadabra it solemnly rings,
Like an ancient bell that forever swings.
O, I love to hear
That word make clear
Humanity's General Sense of Things.
An infinite number of things.
'Tis the answer to What? and How? and Why?
And Whence? and Whither? — a word whereby
The Truth (with the comfort it brings)
Is open to all who grope in night,
Crying for Wisdom's holy light.
Whether the word is a verb or a noun
Is knowledge beyond my reach.
I only know that 'tis handed down.
From sage to sage,
From age to age —
An immortal part of speech!
Of an ancient man the tale is told
That he lived to be ten centuries old,
In a cave on a mountain side.
(True, he finally died.)
The fame of his wisdom filled the land,
For his head was bald, and you'll understand
His beard was long and white
And his eyes uncommonly bright.
Philosophers gathered from far and near
To sit at his feat and hear and hear,
Though he never was heard
To utter a word
But "Abracadabra, abracadab,
Abracada, abracad,
Abraca, abrac, abra, ab!"
'Twas all he had,
'Twas all they wanted to hear, and each
Made copious notes of the mystical speech,
Which they published next —
A trickle of text
In the meadow of commentary.
Mighty big books were these,
In a number, as leaves of trees;
In learning, remarkably — very!
He's dead,
As I said,
And the books of the sages have perished,
But his wisdom is sacredly cherished.
In Abracadabra it solemnly rings,
Like an ancient bell that forever swings.
O, I love to hear
That word make clear
Humanity's General Sense of Things.
For all of my years, I never Knew…....
My mother’s mother,
Eunice Jean Hurt. I’ve always known my
Father’s mother, and she has been in my life since I was born. In the case of my mom’s mom, unfortunately
she left our plane many years before my mom herself was even able to get to
know much of her own mother. My mom was
8 years old when her mother passed. All I
ever really knew of her or my grandfather, was that she was a spiritual
teacher, and laying on of hands healer, and that her and Yale, my grandfather
traveled in some of the popular Hollywood circles at the time, and that they
were very much into the theories of life on other planets. i.e.
Aliens. ....
Much to my relief, at my ripe age of 26
years old, I finally came across something that spoke of her. 8 pages of a book written many years ago, the
man speaks so wonderfully of her that I have the urge to share this
information. He was one of her students
that later went on to more learning in the field that she taught, and wrote a
book on the topic. ....
Below is the exact
exert from the book: Chapter 5 pages 96-104....
And so he writes....
The initial phases of my professional
life, death and the incurable were emotionally unacceptable to me because they
indicated failure on my part. I still
battle the “incurable” and ideas about death.
– But not alone; I have invited the patient to do battle along with
me. ....
The wall between the intuitive and the
rational had begun to weaken during my residency at the Mayo Clinic. When I finished my residency, the wall
crumbled. My interest in to metaphysics
was rekindled as a deep yearning to explore higher states of
consciousness. The awareness that I was
to meet Eunice quickened me during my first year and a half in private
practice. ....
In October 1971, a male patient who came
in for a routine checkup suggested that I might enjoy meeting his spiritual
teacher. We had already talked briefly
about Metaphysical healing concepts, but I wasn’t yet prepared to accept his
invitation. After all, there are so many
funny cults in southern California. (One
cartoon puts it beautifully with a signpost on a desert highway: “You are now
leaving California, resume normal behavior.”)
But when my teacher mentioned that the teacher was a “She” and that her
name was Eunice Hurt, I was overwhelmed with excitement. My god,
I thought, the intuitive flash was correct.
But I didn’t drop my stethoscope and dash over to meet her. I knew that I was going to study with her,
and I knew the timing of our meeting had nothing to do with my personal need or
excitement. In fact, I wasn’t to meet
her for six weeks. ....
The moment came on a Saturday afternoon in
December 1971, when the patient called and said that Eunice would like to meet
me. I was nervous because my outer
thinking was that she might not accept me.
The pull toward this woman was not normal; it was paranormal, and I knew
it. ....
She was living in a small house in Van
Nuys, a suburban community in the San Fernando Valley, the “Bedroom” of Los
Angeles. When I entered the living room,
where she was seated, my heart pounded and my palms were perspiring. She stood, looked me over carefully, then
laughed and opened her arms to me. The
radiance of her Beingness was Love made manifest. I was swept into a state of ecstasy. It was an internal ecstasy, because I was
almost motionless, caught in a state of sensing the Divine, while my outer mind
was left contending with the appearances. ....
Eunice was 46 years old, but what I was
feeling was an ageless “Old” soul, a temple of ancient wisdoms with a presence
I did not have to try to feel, but that enfolded and uplifted my own. We did not speak for several minutes. Then, with perfect eye contact, a mutual “Yes”
was whispered.....
I cried when I returned home. In fact, I cried all that night and all the
next day. The tears were not of sadness
nor of grief nor of pain nor of suffering; they were tears of inexplicable
joy. I had recognized her Beingness, and when I use the word recognize, I mean the deep recognition
that is so very rarely experienced – the remeeting with a soul one has loved
and respected in past lifetimes. She was
brother, teacher, mother, sister, father, son and wife. She was spiritual coworker, fellow Buddhist disciple,
Zen master and ancient Egyptian teacher of the healing arts. Our souls were entwined over many different
lifetimes, always for the purpose of helping to awaken one or the other, and
usually to help one or the other to cross over when death came. A week before she died, Nine months after I started
to study with her, she told me this last detail – a detail I already knew. She will be present at my own death. ....
Meeting somebody from a past lifetime is
actually a very common occurrence, but one that is filtered from the other
mind, which is fundamental to the essence of Life. I do not intend to dwell on concepts of reincarnation
nor to develop convincing proofs. When
one reaches a certain level of development, this knowledge enters the awareness
and needs no rationalization. ....
In December 1971 and January 1972, I
attended the last four weekly evening sessions of a series of sixteen classes
Eunice was giving to the public. They
were followed by eight more classes, closed sessions, with attendance by her
invitation only. Much of the content
dealt with group-healing concepts, dream interpretation, metaphysical
principals and the teachings of Jesus.
The deepest level of teaching did not begin until March 1972 when,
according to an empress she had received, she took a few of her students into experiential
realms of awareness I had only read about.....
By the time she finished with me, I had
thrown down every last remnant of skepticism.
I was defenseless, because her mastery of psi phenomena was nothing
short of miraculous. Her gifts of
telepathy, clairvoyance, and precognition were accurate and proved. She could if she desired, generate a force
field that could knock over a huge and powerful man. Neither her student’s thoughts nor their
actions were unavailable to her. There
could be no games or deception, because she knew the truth of one’s Beingness. As she told each one of us at the outset, it
was no trivial task to take on the responsibility of training even one student,
let alone twelve. Because of our mutual
commitment, her awareness of each one of us was acute twenty-four hours a day. ....
I had never experienced unconditional Love
until the moment I met Eunice. There
were no strings attached, and no judgments issued from her being about any of
the more unsavory aspects of her students.
She saw what she called the Divinity of each soul; the personality level and the confusion of the outer
mind were unnecessary to the induction process.
She was the great awakener, and she knew it. The last three years of her life were ones of
ministry and teaching. Even her children
became secondary to this task. ....
Born and Raised on a farm in the mid-west,
Eunice in her earlier years had experienced the poverty of the depression
era. She related many episodes of the
paranormal, including actual physical body levitation, before adolescence. I am unaware of most of the details of her
outer-Life… working her way through school, five marriages that ended in
divorce, her outer training in metaphysics and the various places she had
worked as a secretary in Los Angeles.
Her public lecture work and private counseling sessions had begun
approximately two years before we met. ....
She had an excellent mind and was quite
capable of concepts in the areas of advance mathematics, physics, history, and
philosophy. Although deeply knowledgeable
in both the Old and New Testaments, she was eclectic in her approach to
religious principals. She drew from the Buddhist
Sutras, Sufi concepts, Hindu teachings, the cabala, hermetic philosophy, Zen Buddhist
koans and Islamic teaching; but fundamentally she always used a Christian model
on which to display these other teachings and principals. Even though she was profoundly religious,
there was always the balance of her sharp intellect, which could cut to pieces
a skeptic whose doubts were based on intellectual grounds. ....
To the external eye, she was a
hard-working secretary raising a teenage son and daughter. She smoked two pack of cigarettes a day; used
little, if any alcohol; loved all kinds of food; occasionally fasted; had
traveled little outside the united states; loved a good joke; could swear appropriately; dressed conventionally; bleached her hair;
was very frightened of water, from ocean to swimming pool; tended to be mildly
overweight; enjoyed conversation for hours on end; was a very strong fighter
for what she believed in; cared little for animals and plants; could play like
a child; did not personally like everyone she met; and could lose her temper, particularly
with her children. That was Eunice at
her personality level. ....
But when she blended with more expanded
portions of her Beingness, as she could do in the blink of an eye, she was
saintlike, a totally different entity, whose words were like liquid light whose
presence was sheer manna. ....
In metaphysical terms, she had developed
the ability to blend with her high self instantaneously, demonstrating Christ
consciousness – the essence of Love. ....
Thus, Eunice was a real person, with
problems just like those of any other human being, but with one exception: she
was awake. There was no need in her to
meet the expectations others may have desired her to meet, to deceive people by
displaying only her sainted pattern or to gain personal power over others with
the use of her gifts. ....
When she was in her ordinary awareness,
she was a light. When she was channeling
spiritual principals and energies from another dimension, she was mind-boggling. It was through the difference between Eunice’s
ordinary awareness and her more expanded Beingness that I later learned to see
that to be the personality level is like a garment. It can serve the purpose of developing
experiences, but when it is no longer useful, when it can take one no further,
it is to be discarded as a garment is discarded, as the body is discarded when
it is time to enter another plane. Once I
had learned experientially that I did not have to stay in the personality level,
once I knew that there were alternatives, I could begin the resolution of
problems configured at the personality level.
....
The intensity of her teaching, so
unselfishly showered on the small groups of individuals during the last nine
months of her life, cannot be summarized fully – or even shared partially
without distortion. I can say that it
was like riding on the back of a winged horse as she took each of us into
dimension after dimension of consciousness beyond the ordinary, through the
power of her inducting field, sharing wisdoms in the art of healing and in the
achievement of self-realization. Meditation
was basic to her teachings. Anyone who
could not meditate missed the “inner plane” experience. In my case, meditation freed my identity from
my outer mind. The impossible became possible, and the insoluble became its
own solution. ....
Keep in mind that during my study with
Eunice I was a totally orthodox internist, practicing the subspecialties of pulmonary
and cardiac medicine in addition to general internal medicine. I had not come into the awareness of body
energy fields, chakras, and the transmutation of diseased tissue. Traditional medical concepts dominated my
practice of medicine. I not only was on
the teaching faculty of the Hospital of the good Samaritan Medical Center, but
was also an assistant clinical professor of medicine at the Los Angeles
county/University of Southern California Medical Center (L.A. county hospital),
teaching general and Pulmonary medicine to medical students, interns and
residents. In July 1972 Eunice coughed
up some Blood. A mass lesion was noted
in the left hilar region of her lungs. Within
three days surgery was performed, but the prognosis was poor. The lesion was highly malignant, but not, as
one might have suspected, the type of cancer associated with her smoking. It was a scar cancer, developing out of scar
tissue associated with an old granulomatous disease, probably a fungal
infection. ....
The dichotomy of Eunice’s Beingness became
evident. The personality level was
angered, frustrated that her life was going to end just as she was reaching the
prime of her teachings. Her concern for
her children dominated her thinking as she reluctantly began to put her affairs
into order. Her outer mind, feeling
trapped in an uncontrollable circumstance, cried out in anguish. The fear of pain occasionally obsessed her
and made her plead with me to reassure her that I would not withhold narcotics. ....
She recuperated
from the lung surgery in the guest cottage in which she had trained our group
in spiritual work. There she related a supervivid
dream in which a station wagon, in which she was driving us all to an unknown
destination, broke down after climbing a steep hill. After the vehicle coasted down the hill into
an old gasoline station, a mechanic inspected the engine and told her there was
nothing to do, that it was irreparably damaged.
In the dream she announced to us that we were all going to have to get
out of the car and walk the rest of the way.
....
When she finished relating the dream there
was silence in the room. Weather the
others were able to interpretation of this dream into their awareness, I do not
know; but I saw it’s significance and discussed it with Eunice in a private
session after that class. She was going
to die. Her body was beyond Cure, and
all of us were going to have to find our own paths without her help. The dream occurred in spite of the evidence
that after surgery the cancerous process was not detectable. In her heightened awareness, she told me that
she had deliberately related the dream to prepare her students for her death, which
would take place toward the end of the year.
....
She also told me that earlier in the year
she had had an impress that she was going to be called to a distant land, a
foreign country. Her outer mind had
interpreted this to mean a trip to the Far East. Now she knew that termination of
her physical form was to take place. She
realized that her commitment in this lifetime had been fulfilled: she had been
here to awaken certain individuals, and she had done so. She had no fear of the death process and, in
fact, would instruct me in the preparation for her death at the appropriate
time. Meanwhile, she refused
chemotherapy and radiation, because, though her outer mind clung to the hope of
a cure. She rejected palliation and
demanded either a complete cure or death.
....
There was still no postoperative evidence
of the cancerous process when she married Wendy and me on September 30,
1972. Wendy and I flew to Tobago for our
honeymoon and returned to the United States three weeks later to attend a
medical convention in Denver, Colorado.
One of her students telephoned me there to say that Eunice had been
taken to the hospital with abdominal pain.
Wendy and I immediately flew back to Los Angeles. ....
When I examined Eunice, I found the cancer
everywhere –in her abdomen, her neck and in her groins. One of her Physicians had told her that it
was of no concern and Eunice, in almost a childlike state of consciousness,
believed him. I looked at her with tears
in my eyes, but she wanted to know the truth.
So I told her; she had less than a month to live. She thanked me, because it made it clear that
the preparation for her crossing had to begin.
....
Because the pain was so excruciating, she
asked me to begin the process of using morphine to place her in a coma so that her
death would be accelerated by pneumonia, something I had on occasion done for
others who were nearing death. I
promised her I would do just that and ordered morphine injections to be given
every four hours around the clock, even if she seemed to be comfortable,
asleep, or otherwise not in pain. It didn’t
work. Despite very large doses, she
would not enter a coma; and finally, after three days, I spoke to her about her
lack of cooperation. She laughed and
said there must be more work to do. Even
if her outer mind wanted to escape the nightmare of pain, her soul was not
ready to leave. ....
Then she accomplished one of her
miraculous displays. In twenty-four
hours, she made the masses in her neck subside completely. She stated emphatically that she did not wish
to die in a hospital, that she wanted to go home. She also wanted to demonstrate that the
healing of her body was possible, and that in dying she was going to yield to
an inner calling. ....
We took her back to the guest cottage,
hired a special nurse to be with her and awaited the inevitable. Eunice went on teaching, counseling each of
us until the last week. ....
On a Late November morning Eunice died,
but not before telling her nurse that she saw two angels standing on either
side of a man with a Christ like appearance who was beckoning to her. She raised up from the bed, sitting up with
her arms out, then rested back on the pillow and died. ....
Yes Eunice had instructed me in the art of
dying, but my attachment to her on the personality level had prevented me from
fully appreciating at the time what a rich and valuable experience it was. With her death came physical grief and only
then the full implication of her teaching.
She had given each one of us the “key to the kingdom” we could continue
to search for another teacher, but her teachings were amazingly complex. Another person might phrase the principals
differently, but the essentials were one and the same. We had to get out of the car and walk. ....
I began that walk by setting aside at
least an hour each morning to enter into a deep meditative state of
consciousness. Sometimes it would mean
getting up at four in the morning, after completing long days at the hospital
and in the office and retiring at midnight.
I knew the path was internal and not external. There could and would be no further external
teacher. I had been given the gift of a
lifetime, and I knew it. The
manifestation of my own self-awareness was my responsibility and no one else’s. ....
How many times have I observed people
sitting in living rooms, lecture halls or in mountain retreats, listening to an
inspired teacher? Some of these people
had been doing the same thing for a year, five years, and even forty
years. After all that time they still
persist in failing to realize that the critical step is in being, no in what is
spoke about being. Action must be taken,
and that action is inside. ....
Almost two months to the day after Eunice’s
death, I found my inner teacher…a state of consciousness that continues to
teach me today. It is not a manifestation
of Eunice or anybody else that I recognize in my outer mind. Its presence is radiant; and its wisdom,
inspiring. ....
.. ..
These words mean a lot to
me, as they clue me in as to what type of person my never known grandmother
was. I know much more about her from
this man’s encounter with her than I may have ever been able to know from
another person. His words of her inspire
me at the same time as they clue me in, to some things about my own self. Having never known her, I can tell from this
that we would have been great healers together, and that her thought processes
are some similar to my own as far as religion and spirituality in my life. There must be a reason that I was to never
meet her, but whatever it is, I’m grateful for this small glimpse into to the
life of a woman, my grandmother, who seems to have been a woman I would have loved
dearly, and admired much, had I had the opportunity to do so.
Eunice Jean Hurt. I’ve always known my
Father’s mother, and she has been in my life since I was born. In the case of my mom’s mom, unfortunately
she left our plane many years before my mom herself was even able to get to
know much of her own mother. My mom was
8 years old when her mother passed. All I
ever really knew of her or my grandfather, was that she was a spiritual
teacher, and laying on of hands healer, and that her and Yale, my grandfather
traveled in some of the popular Hollywood circles at the time, and that they
were very much into the theories of life on other planets. i.e.
Aliens. ....
Much to my relief, at my ripe age of 26
years old, I finally came across something that spoke of her. 8 pages of a book written many years ago, the
man speaks so wonderfully of her that I have the urge to share this
information. He was one of her students
that later went on to more learning in the field that she taught, and wrote a
book on the topic. ....
Below is the exact
exert from the book: Chapter 5 pages 96-104....
And so he writes....
The initial phases of my professional
life, death and the incurable were emotionally unacceptable to me because they
indicated failure on my part. I still
battle the “incurable” and ideas about death.
– But not alone; I have invited the patient to do battle along with
me. ....
The wall between the intuitive and the
rational had begun to weaken during my residency at the Mayo Clinic. When I finished my residency, the wall
crumbled. My interest in to metaphysics
was rekindled as a deep yearning to explore higher states of
consciousness. The awareness that I was
to meet Eunice quickened me during my first year and a half in private
practice. ....
In October 1971, a male patient who came
in for a routine checkup suggested that I might enjoy meeting his spiritual
teacher. We had already talked briefly
about Metaphysical healing concepts, but I wasn’t yet prepared to accept his
invitation. After all, there are so many
funny cults in southern California. (One
cartoon puts it beautifully with a signpost on a desert highway: “You are now
leaving California, resume normal behavior.”)
But when my teacher mentioned that the teacher was a “She” and that her
name was Eunice Hurt, I was overwhelmed with excitement. My god,
I thought, the intuitive flash was correct.
But I didn’t drop my stethoscope and dash over to meet her. I knew that I was going to study with her,
and I knew the timing of our meeting had nothing to do with my personal need or
excitement. In fact, I wasn’t to meet
her for six weeks. ....
The moment came on a Saturday afternoon in
December 1971, when the patient called and said that Eunice would like to meet
me. I was nervous because my outer
thinking was that she might not accept me.
The pull toward this woman was not normal; it was paranormal, and I knew
it. ....
She was living in a small house in Van
Nuys, a suburban community in the San Fernando Valley, the “Bedroom” of Los
Angeles. When I entered the living room,
where she was seated, my heart pounded and my palms were perspiring. She stood, looked me over carefully, then
laughed and opened her arms to me. The
radiance of her Beingness was Love made manifest. I was swept into a state of ecstasy. It was an internal ecstasy, because I was
almost motionless, caught in a state of sensing the Divine, while my outer mind
was left contending with the appearances. ....
Eunice was 46 years old, but what I was
feeling was an ageless “Old” soul, a temple of ancient wisdoms with a presence
I did not have to try to feel, but that enfolded and uplifted my own. We did not speak for several minutes. Then, with perfect eye contact, a mutual “Yes”
was whispered.....
I cried when I returned home. In fact, I cried all that night and all the
next day. The tears were not of sadness
nor of grief nor of pain nor of suffering; they were tears of inexplicable
joy. I had recognized her Beingness, and when I use the word recognize, I mean the deep recognition
that is so very rarely experienced – the remeeting with a soul one has loved
and respected in past lifetimes. She was
brother, teacher, mother, sister, father, son and wife. She was spiritual coworker, fellow Buddhist disciple,
Zen master and ancient Egyptian teacher of the healing arts. Our souls were entwined over many different
lifetimes, always for the purpose of helping to awaken one or the other, and
usually to help one or the other to cross over when death came. A week before she died, Nine months after I started
to study with her, she told me this last detail – a detail I already knew. She will be present at my own death. ....
Meeting somebody from a past lifetime is
actually a very common occurrence, but one that is filtered from the other
mind, which is fundamental to the essence of Life. I do not intend to dwell on concepts of reincarnation
nor to develop convincing proofs. When
one reaches a certain level of development, this knowledge enters the awareness
and needs no rationalization. ....
In December 1971 and January 1972, I
attended the last four weekly evening sessions of a series of sixteen classes
Eunice was giving to the public. They
were followed by eight more classes, closed sessions, with attendance by her
invitation only. Much of the content
dealt with group-healing concepts, dream interpretation, metaphysical
principals and the teachings of Jesus.
The deepest level of teaching did not begin until March 1972 when,
according to an empress she had received, she took a few of her students into experiential
realms of awareness I had only read about.....
By the time she finished with me, I had
thrown down every last remnant of skepticism.
I was defenseless, because her mastery of psi phenomena was nothing
short of miraculous. Her gifts of
telepathy, clairvoyance, and precognition were accurate and proved. She could if she desired, generate a force
field that could knock over a huge and powerful man. Neither her student’s thoughts nor their
actions were unavailable to her. There
could be no games or deception, because she knew the truth of one’s Beingness. As she told each one of us at the outset, it
was no trivial task to take on the responsibility of training even one student,
let alone twelve. Because of our mutual
commitment, her awareness of each one of us was acute twenty-four hours a day. ....
I had never experienced unconditional Love
until the moment I met Eunice. There
were no strings attached, and no judgments issued from her being about any of
the more unsavory aspects of her students.
She saw what she called the Divinity of each soul; the personality level and the confusion of the outer
mind were unnecessary to the induction process.
She was the great awakener, and she knew it. The last three years of her life were ones of
ministry and teaching. Even her children
became secondary to this task. ....
Born and Raised on a farm in the mid-west,
Eunice in her earlier years had experienced the poverty of the depression
era. She related many episodes of the
paranormal, including actual physical body levitation, before adolescence. I am unaware of most of the details of her
outer-Life… working her way through school, five marriages that ended in
divorce, her outer training in metaphysics and the various places she had
worked as a secretary in Los Angeles.
Her public lecture work and private counseling sessions had begun
approximately two years before we met. ....
She had an excellent mind and was quite
capable of concepts in the areas of advance mathematics, physics, history, and
philosophy. Although deeply knowledgeable
in both the Old and New Testaments, she was eclectic in her approach to
religious principals. She drew from the Buddhist
Sutras, Sufi concepts, Hindu teachings, the cabala, hermetic philosophy, Zen Buddhist
koans and Islamic teaching; but fundamentally she always used a Christian model
on which to display these other teachings and principals. Even though she was profoundly religious,
there was always the balance of her sharp intellect, which could cut to pieces
a skeptic whose doubts were based on intellectual grounds. ....
To the external eye, she was a
hard-working secretary raising a teenage son and daughter. She smoked two pack of cigarettes a day; used
little, if any alcohol; loved all kinds of food; occasionally fasted; had
traveled little outside the united states; loved a good joke; could swear appropriately; dressed conventionally; bleached her hair;
was very frightened of water, from ocean to swimming pool; tended to be mildly
overweight; enjoyed conversation for hours on end; was a very strong fighter
for what she believed in; cared little for animals and plants; could play like
a child; did not personally like everyone she met; and could lose her temper, particularly
with her children. That was Eunice at
her personality level. ....
But when she blended with more expanded
portions of her Beingness, as she could do in the blink of an eye, she was
saintlike, a totally different entity, whose words were like liquid light whose
presence was sheer manna. ....
In metaphysical terms, she had developed
the ability to blend with her high self instantaneously, demonstrating Christ
consciousness – the essence of Love. ....
Thus, Eunice was a real person, with
problems just like those of any other human being, but with one exception: she
was awake. There was no need in her to
meet the expectations others may have desired her to meet, to deceive people by
displaying only her sainted pattern or to gain personal power over others with
the use of her gifts. ....
When she was in her ordinary awareness,
she was a light. When she was channeling
spiritual principals and energies from another dimension, she was mind-boggling. It was through the difference between Eunice’s
ordinary awareness and her more expanded Beingness that I later learned to see
that to be the personality level is like a garment. It can serve the purpose of developing
experiences, but when it is no longer useful, when it can take one no further,
it is to be discarded as a garment is discarded, as the body is discarded when
it is time to enter another plane. Once I
had learned experientially that I did not have to stay in the personality level,
once I knew that there were alternatives, I could begin the resolution of
problems configured at the personality level.
....
The intensity of her teaching, so
unselfishly showered on the small groups of individuals during the last nine
months of her life, cannot be summarized fully – or even shared partially
without distortion. I can say that it
was like riding on the back of a winged horse as she took each of us into
dimension after dimension of consciousness beyond the ordinary, through the
power of her inducting field, sharing wisdoms in the art of healing and in the
achievement of self-realization. Meditation
was basic to her teachings. Anyone who
could not meditate missed the “inner plane” experience. In my case, meditation freed my identity from
my outer mind. The impossible became possible, and the insoluble became its
own solution. ....
Keep in mind that during my study with
Eunice I was a totally orthodox internist, practicing the subspecialties of pulmonary
and cardiac medicine in addition to general internal medicine. I had not come into the awareness of body
energy fields, chakras, and the transmutation of diseased tissue. Traditional medical concepts dominated my
practice of medicine. I not only was on
the teaching faculty of the Hospital of the good Samaritan Medical Center, but
was also an assistant clinical professor of medicine at the Los Angeles
county/University of Southern California Medical Center (L.A. county hospital),
teaching general and Pulmonary medicine to medical students, interns and
residents. In July 1972 Eunice coughed
up some Blood. A mass lesion was noted
in the left hilar region of her lungs. Within
three days surgery was performed, but the prognosis was poor. The lesion was highly malignant, but not, as
one might have suspected, the type of cancer associated with her smoking. It was a scar cancer, developing out of scar
tissue associated with an old granulomatous disease, probably a fungal
infection. ....
The dichotomy of Eunice’s Beingness became
evident. The personality level was
angered, frustrated that her life was going to end just as she was reaching the
prime of her teachings. Her concern for
her children dominated her thinking as she reluctantly began to put her affairs
into order. Her outer mind, feeling
trapped in an uncontrollable circumstance, cried out in anguish. The fear of pain occasionally obsessed her
and made her plead with me to reassure her that I would not withhold narcotics. ....
She recuperated
from the lung surgery in the guest cottage in which she had trained our group
in spiritual work. There she related a supervivid
dream in which a station wagon, in which she was driving us all to an unknown
destination, broke down after climbing a steep hill. After the vehicle coasted down the hill into
an old gasoline station, a mechanic inspected the engine and told her there was
nothing to do, that it was irreparably damaged.
In the dream she announced to us that we were all going to have to get
out of the car and walk the rest of the way.
....
When she finished relating the dream there
was silence in the room. Weather the
others were able to interpretation of this dream into their awareness, I do not
know; but I saw it’s significance and discussed it with Eunice in a private
session after that class. She was going
to die. Her body was beyond Cure, and
all of us were going to have to find our own paths without her help. The dream occurred in spite of the evidence
that after surgery the cancerous process was not detectable. In her heightened awareness, she told me that
she had deliberately related the dream to prepare her students for her death, which
would take place toward the end of the year.
....
She also told me that earlier in the year
she had had an impress that she was going to be called to a distant land, a
foreign country. Her outer mind had
interpreted this to mean a trip to the Far East. Now she knew that termination of
her physical form was to take place. She
realized that her commitment in this lifetime had been fulfilled: she had been
here to awaken certain individuals, and she had done so. She had no fear of the death process and, in
fact, would instruct me in the preparation for her death at the appropriate
time. Meanwhile, she refused
chemotherapy and radiation, because, though her outer mind clung to the hope of
a cure. She rejected palliation and
demanded either a complete cure or death.
....
There was still no postoperative evidence
of the cancerous process when she married Wendy and me on September 30,
1972. Wendy and I flew to Tobago for our
honeymoon and returned to the United States three weeks later to attend a
medical convention in Denver, Colorado.
One of her students telephoned me there to say that Eunice had been
taken to the hospital with abdominal pain.
Wendy and I immediately flew back to Los Angeles. ....
When I examined Eunice, I found the cancer
everywhere –in her abdomen, her neck and in her groins. One of her Physicians had told her that it
was of no concern and Eunice, in almost a childlike state of consciousness,
believed him. I looked at her with tears
in my eyes, but she wanted to know the truth.
So I told her; she had less than a month to live. She thanked me, because it made it clear that
the preparation for her crossing had to begin.
....
Because the pain was so excruciating, she
asked me to begin the process of using morphine to place her in a coma so that her
death would be accelerated by pneumonia, something I had on occasion done for
others who were nearing death. I
promised her I would do just that and ordered morphine injections to be given
every four hours around the clock, even if she seemed to be comfortable,
asleep, or otherwise not in pain. It didn’t
work. Despite very large doses, she
would not enter a coma; and finally, after three days, I spoke to her about her
lack of cooperation. She laughed and
said there must be more work to do. Even
if her outer mind wanted to escape the nightmare of pain, her soul was not
ready to leave. ....
Then she accomplished one of her
miraculous displays. In twenty-four
hours, she made the masses in her neck subside completely. She stated emphatically that she did not wish
to die in a hospital, that she wanted to go home. She also wanted to demonstrate that the
healing of her body was possible, and that in dying she was going to yield to
an inner calling. ....
We took her back to the guest cottage,
hired a special nurse to be with her and awaited the inevitable. Eunice went on teaching, counseling each of
us until the last week. ....
On a Late November morning Eunice died,
but not before telling her nurse that she saw two angels standing on either
side of a man with a Christ like appearance who was beckoning to her. She raised up from the bed, sitting up with
her arms out, then rested back on the pillow and died. ....
Yes Eunice had instructed me in the art of
dying, but my attachment to her on the personality level had prevented me from
fully appreciating at the time what a rich and valuable experience it was. With her death came physical grief and only
then the full implication of her teaching.
She had given each one of us the “key to the kingdom” we could continue
to search for another teacher, but her teachings were amazingly complex. Another person might phrase the principals
differently, but the essentials were one and the same. We had to get out of the car and walk. ....
I began that walk by setting aside at
least an hour each morning to enter into a deep meditative state of
consciousness. Sometimes it would mean
getting up at four in the morning, after completing long days at the hospital
and in the office and retiring at midnight.
I knew the path was internal and not external. There could and would be no further external
teacher. I had been given the gift of a
lifetime, and I knew it. The
manifestation of my own self-awareness was my responsibility and no one else’s. ....
How many times have I observed people
sitting in living rooms, lecture halls or in mountain retreats, listening to an
inspired teacher? Some of these people
had been doing the same thing for a year, five years, and even forty
years. After all that time they still
persist in failing to realize that the critical step is in being, no in what is
spoke about being. Action must be taken,
and that action is inside. ....
Almost two months to the day after Eunice’s
death, I found my inner teacher…a state of consciousness that continues to
teach me today. It is not a manifestation
of Eunice or anybody else that I recognize in my outer mind. Its presence is radiant; and its wisdom,
inspiring. ....
.. ..
These words mean a lot to
me, as they clue me in as to what type of person my never known grandmother
was. I know much more about her from
this man’s encounter with her than I may have ever been able to know from
another person. His words of her inspire
me at the same time as they clue me in, to some things about my own self. Having never known her, I can tell from this
that we would have been great healers together, and that her thought processes
are some similar to my own as far as religion and spirituality in my life. There must be a reason that I was to never
meet her, but whatever it is, I’m grateful for this small glimpse into to the
life of a woman, my grandmother, who seems to have been a woman I would have loved
dearly, and admired much, had I had the opportunity to do so.
The craziest thing happened
this lady came up to us as we were getting in the car to leave Mel's diner, and pointed to Zoe and asked who's child she was. I told her, She's mine, and Rusty's and pointed to him sitting in the driver seat.
she introduced herself, and said that she had a very overwhelming vibe coming from Zoe and that she will someday come to help many people, and be a great healer. She continued to explain what a unusual encounter it was for her to see a soul like her's, and was almost giddy, she handed me a card with her name and info, and offered to do a reading for us.
It's very weird.. if you read my blog about my mom's mom, and the research I've been doing about her, and what I've found.. you'll understand...
This woman brought tears to my eye's and chills down my spine!
she introduced herself, and said that she had a very overwhelming vibe coming from Zoe and that she will someday come to help many people, and be a great healer. She continued to explain what a unusual encounter it was for her to see a soul like her's, and was almost giddy, she handed me a card with her name and info, and offered to do a reading for us.
It's very weird.. if you read my blog about my mom's mom, and the research I've been doing about her, and what I've found.. you'll understand...
This woman brought tears to my eye's and chills down my spine!
The "yeah well... " Types..
Why is it whenever a person is feeling down and expresses it, some
ass-wad has to come up and say "You shouldn't feel bad because MY life is
MUCH worse!" Seriously? that is like a person with AIDS telling a
person with CANCER that they shouldn't feel bad because THEIR disease
is MUCH worse! What kind of heartless pig uses this as an argument?
For instance, one time I had to listen to a multi-million dollar business man tell
me how depressed he was that his company just lost 10 MILLION dollars.
Instead of telling him that he has NO RIGHT to feel depressed losing
his hard earned money, I LISTENED. How can I not identify with someone
frustrated over losing something he worked so hard for? Even if I do
wish I was in his position? What kind of worthless fuckwad would I be
if I started jumping on someone who is obviously depressed just for
having FEELINGS?
So, to those of you who walk through your
pathetic lives telling other people they have no right to have EMOTIONS
because your life is SOOO pathetic and sad...you might want to dismount
that horse. it's a wee bit too high for your ass!
ass-wad has to come up and say "You shouldn't feel bad because MY life is
MUCH worse!" Seriously? that is like a person with AIDS telling a
person with CANCER that they shouldn't feel bad because THEIR disease
is MUCH worse! What kind of heartless pig uses this as an argument?
For instance, one time I had to listen to a multi-million dollar business man tell
me how depressed he was that his company just lost 10 MILLION dollars.
Instead of telling him that he has NO RIGHT to feel depressed losing
his hard earned money, I LISTENED. How can I not identify with someone
frustrated over losing something he worked so hard for? Even if I do
wish I was in his position? What kind of worthless fuckwad would I be
if I started jumping on someone who is obviously depressed just for
having FEELINGS?
So, to those of you who walk through your
pathetic lives telling other people they have no right to have EMOTIONS
because your life is SOOO pathetic and sad...you might want to dismount
that horse. it's a wee bit too high for your ass!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
