The Hope and the Knowing is an upcoming book written by Mandy Berlin. Her journal manuscript contains a chronological account of paranormal and supernatural happenings which began just hours after the death of Max Blau, the author’s husband. Along with the mind-blowing and sometimes miraculous events witnessed by the author, she details a number of bizarre and inexplicable occurrences reported to her by mutual friends and loved ones dear to Max. Ms. Berlin, a former agnostic and research scientist, has kept a fastidious and comprehensive account of episodic data. She refers to a phenomenon as an event, beginning with those that happened the night of Max’s departure, December 23, 2003, and ending with the incredible event that occurred on the first anniversary of his death.
Through research and review conducted after the occurrences of these uncanny activities, Ms. Berlin learned that the phenomena she and her cohorts observed, heard or perceived tended to cluster qualitatively into a number of classes. These categories include but are not limited to: the physical movement of objects in and around rooms; numinous dreams; apparitions and other spirit encounters; synchronicities; automatic writing; the movement of rare coins; object alteration; electrical demonstrations and electrical breakdowns; third eye phenomena; spirit communications received through clairvoyance, clairaudience and clairsentience; astral travel; guide communications; validation of an event through event repetition; and the discovery of validating written records after the occurrence of the significant event. The writer examines these and other topics in the sections that follow key events. These sections, labeled Post Scripts, are reserved for post-event research and review where she offers explanations and an interpretation of the event in question.
Although the time frame of Ms. Berlin’s book is December of 2003 through 2004, the paranormal, supernatural and synchronistic happenings have gone far beyond the boundaries of one journal year. Surprisingly, the rate of occurrence increased in 2005 and 2006, especially with respect to synchronistic activities. She attributes this fact, in part, to an increased focus on event recording over time. The author believes she lost track of some of the paranormal happenings just after her husband died, because she either misplaced her notes or neglected to record them in the face of such awesome activity. Although Mandy’s incredible encounters with Max have not been as frequent as in the early years, they do happen from time to time, notably on special occasions. For this reason, she has staunchly continued to document rare and unusual events, even into the year 2010.
Author’s note: To protect my friends, loved ones and colleagues, I have changed their names in my forthcoming journal. However, I assure you that no character nor story in this book is fictitious. Each and every incident documented in The Hope and the Knowing is true to the best of my ability to capture and record the quintessence of a phenomenological event.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Dumb Animals?
I’m taking a break from my book postings to tell you a story about something that happened last week:
Wednesday 11/24/10
Around 2:00 p.m.
Some say cats are just dumb animals, but I’m here to tell you that 'ain’t' the case.
The day before Thanksgiving, I’m in the mood to meditate but I’m also feeling tired, what with all the rushing around before the holiday. Then, around two o’clock, I can’t seem to stop yawning and start to think it would be great to break all protocol and meditate lying down. (Maybe not a good idea to try this at home. Otherwise you might miss your meditation altogether.)
Tiggi (my cat pictured at bottom of blog) is sunning herself on the love seat as I pull up some stones I bought for meditating. Remember, stones are derived from the energy of the earth. Just as uranium emits powerful frequencies of radiation, stones emit varying energy frequencies. Today my objective is to clear the chakras or energy points of the body, especially those in my throat (thyroid gland) and the frontal lobe (third eye area; seat of the soul). For those who don’t go in for that kind of stuff, simply think of the breathing process involved in meditation and the intense focus on specific areas of the body. The mental concentration along with deep-breathing tend to have a stimulating effect on the thyroid gland while clearing the brain/mind to receive more information.
So I lie down on the couch and put a rose quartz pyramid stone on my forehead, centered just above my eyebrows. I’m sure you can imagine how funny that must look to an outside observer. Nevermind… getting into it, I center a polished green malachite at the base of my neck. Malachite is a lucky stone that aids in sleep, as I am soon to find out. I had temporarily misplaced my all-purpose quartz stone, so I decide to use malachite because of its intense energy properties. Used properly, malachite guards against radiation of all kinds, making it appropriate for a low-functioning thyroid.
Soon I begin the deep breathing process and focus on the malachite and my throat. Feeling good… and in a little while… my alpha brain wave state streams into delta and I drift into a twilight sleep. Sorry to say, I never even had a chance to focus on my forehead or the pink pyramid, but you see, my state of bliss is already complete. So what do I care?
Then, from nowhere, I hear a bleating sound like a goat. Once more, I’m wide awake. But the stones are rearranged all cockeyed and I don’t want them to fall. So I fiddle around with them until they’re dead center again. Lying there, I’m thinking, “Did that sound really come from a cat?”
In next to no time, I sense the warmth of a small body as Tiggi’s head converges on the target; wriggling nose about two inches from my face. I glance slightly to my right to find her eyes moving back and forth from the pointy pyramid… to the malachite stone… and back to the pink quartz again. Soon her green eyes grow nearly as large as the verdant malachite as she releases the eeriest vilification I’ve ever heard coming from the bowels of a cat:
“What the heck are you doing, you strange person?!” She hisses. (Well, that's to put it mildly.)
The stones fall to the floor because I’m no longer able to contain my belly laugh. “Tigg, it’s alright!” I hoot and pick her up and give her a thorough brushing. “See, mommy’s just having a little fun!”
Now Sweet Stripes is purring in my lap, and life is fine once more.
Wednesday 11/24/10
Around 2:00 p.m.
Some say cats are just dumb animals, but I’m here to tell you that 'ain’t' the case.
The day before Thanksgiving, I’m in the mood to meditate but I’m also feeling tired, what with all the rushing around before the holiday. Then, around two o’clock, I can’t seem to stop yawning and start to think it would be great to break all protocol and meditate lying down. (Maybe not a good idea to try this at home. Otherwise you might miss your meditation altogether.)
Tiggi (my cat pictured at bottom of blog) is sunning herself on the love seat as I pull up some stones I bought for meditating. Remember, stones are derived from the energy of the earth. Just as uranium emits powerful frequencies of radiation, stones emit varying energy frequencies. Today my objective is to clear the chakras or energy points of the body, especially those in my throat (thyroid gland) and the frontal lobe (third eye area; seat of the soul). For those who don’t go in for that kind of stuff, simply think of the breathing process involved in meditation and the intense focus on specific areas of the body. The mental concentration along with deep-breathing tend to have a stimulating effect on the thyroid gland while clearing the brain/mind to receive more information.
So I lie down on the couch and put a rose quartz pyramid stone on my forehead, centered just above my eyebrows. I’m sure you can imagine how funny that must look to an outside observer. Nevermind… getting into it, I center a polished green malachite at the base of my neck. Malachite is a lucky stone that aids in sleep, as I am soon to find out. I had temporarily misplaced my all-purpose quartz stone, so I decide to use malachite because of its intense energy properties. Used properly, malachite guards against radiation of all kinds, making it appropriate for a low-functioning thyroid.
Soon I begin the deep breathing process and focus on the malachite and my throat. Feeling good… and in a little while… my alpha brain wave state streams into delta and I drift into a twilight sleep. Sorry to say, I never even had a chance to focus on my forehead or the pink pyramid, but you see, my state of bliss is already complete. So what do I care?
Then, from nowhere, I hear a bleating sound like a goat. Once more, I’m wide awake. But the stones are rearranged all cockeyed and I don’t want them to fall. So I fiddle around with them until they’re dead center again. Lying there, I’m thinking, “Did that sound really come from a cat?”
In next to no time, I sense the warmth of a small body as Tiggi’s head converges on the target; wriggling nose about two inches from my face. I glance slightly to my right to find her eyes moving back and forth from the pointy pyramid… to the malachite stone… and back to the pink quartz again. Soon her green eyes grow nearly as large as the verdant malachite as she releases the eeriest vilification I’ve ever heard coming from the bowels of a cat:
“What the heck are you doing, you strange person?!” She hisses. (Well, that's to put it mildly.)
The stones fall to the floor because I’m no longer able to contain my belly laugh. “Tigg, it’s alright!” I hoot and pick her up and give her a thorough brushing. “See, mommy’s just having a little fun!”
Now Sweet Stripes is purring in my lap, and life is fine once more.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
INCESSANT MURMUR SURROUNDS MY BED
Journal Entry
Sunday 11/21/2004
At 6:45 a.m.
In a twilight sleep, I’m hugging a lump of something. Snoozing and waking, I’m inclined to think it’s Max. “I’m sorry I lost you,” I say as tears stream down my cheeks and onto fluffy pillows. A cheery hum fills the room, and in a little while, I come to the cosmic conclusion that the chirp is emanating from an animal of a different sort. Lifting my head nary an inch, I find myself sniffing the shiny mane of a black cat.
“Oh Allie!” I say, snorting and wiping fine hair from my mouth. As if put out, she lets out a high-pitched cry. So I stroke her ear and say, “There there, sweetie, it’s alright.” In a little while, she hangs loose and I pull her close to me. Soon we’re off and away once more.
But not for long. Now something else is trying hard to disrupt that dreamy state of consciousness I so rightly deserve. I groan, realizing I won’t get that extra Sunday snooze after all; for an incessant murmur seems to be surrounding my bed like a high-pitched electromagnetic charge.
Where is this infernal noise coming from? I put my ear up to my little one’s head and she gives me a sideways glance, like hey dude, what’s happening? Her purring has stopped yet the maddening drone persists. I close my eyes.
Before long, I’m able to make out the familiar timbre of it all. Max. And in a flash, an echo as his thoughts stream to the forefront of my brain:
You haven’t lost anything, and you have gained so much more:
in love and compassion, in insight into What Is; into All That Is!
*****
I sigh and breathe into fluffy pillows and relish my dear one’s sentiments for as long as I can without losing them. Then I turn to the end table where I (now) keep pad and pen. Quickly, I scribble his words down on paper for posterity, and maybe with a little luck, for all time.
Sunday 11/21/2004
At 6:45 a.m.
In a twilight sleep, I’m hugging a lump of something. Snoozing and waking, I’m inclined to think it’s Max. “I’m sorry I lost you,” I say as tears stream down my cheeks and onto fluffy pillows. A cheery hum fills the room, and in a little while, I come to the cosmic conclusion that the chirp is emanating from an animal of a different sort. Lifting my head nary an inch, I find myself sniffing the shiny mane of a black cat.
“Oh Allie!” I say, snorting and wiping fine hair from my mouth. As if put out, she lets out a high-pitched cry. So I stroke her ear and say, “There there, sweetie, it’s alright.” In a little while, she hangs loose and I pull her close to me. Soon we’re off and away once more.
But not for long. Now something else is trying hard to disrupt that dreamy state of consciousness I so rightly deserve. I groan, realizing I won’t get that extra Sunday snooze after all; for an incessant murmur seems to be surrounding my bed like a high-pitched electromagnetic charge.
Where is this infernal noise coming from? I put my ear up to my little one’s head and she gives me a sideways glance, like hey dude, what’s happening? Her purring has stopped yet the maddening drone persists. I close my eyes.
Before long, I’m able to make out the familiar timbre of it all. Max. And in a flash, an echo as his thoughts stream to the forefront of my brain:
You haven’t lost anything, and you have gained so much more:
in love and compassion, in insight into What Is; into All That Is!
*****
I sigh and breathe into fluffy pillows and relish my dear one’s sentiments for as long as I can without losing them. Then I turn to the end table where I (now) keep pad and pen. Quickly, I scribble his words down on paper for posterity, and maybe with a little luck, for all time.
Monday, November 15, 2010
VIVID DREAM OF MAX
Journal Entry
Friday 10/22/2004
Half Moon
Around 6:00 a.m.
I had another amazing dream. Well, not just a dream, more like a vision. In this vivid trance, I saw Max dressed in grey as he broke through the front door of our home. Frantically, he called out my name, “Mandy!”
“Mandy, where are you? I can’t see you!”
Awestruck by his wild appearance, I tried to speak or at least say his name. Yet, suddenly, I seemed to have lost my faculties.
At this point, Max became frenetic, pacing back and forth… roaring from the rafters like Panthera onca, “Mandy!”
“Where did you go? I need you!”
Though I wanted to speak, I was mute in the dream. Yet, I wanted and so needed to be there for him. And with that thought, came a sudden ability to scream, “Max, I’m here!”
“Over here!” I cried, running toward him. Our eyes met, like we had achieved some kind of lock-on delirium. He made a lunge for my body and raised me up to his corporeal being. In the dream, he seemed real, like a spirit who had a living, breathing body.
There, at the landing, we held each other in desperation. “Mandy, I’m so sorry,” Max said sadly. “I won’t leave you again.”
“I promise.”
“Max,” I sighed, relieved just to hold him again – and to hear his sweet, soulful sound. Yet, perhaps because I was afraid he might evaporate into thin air, I would not, could not, loosen the grip I had on his arm. He had left me before – in death, that is – and I wasn’t about to let that happen again.
Standing still, it seemed I could read his thoughts and sense his every emotion. As I held him close, I let the water from my eyes bathe his aching heart and soothe his restless soul. Before long, I understood, all these months he had been just as weary as I. Nevertheless, I wasn’t worried, because I knew that together we would find peace and wholeness again, even in a dream….
Hand in hand, like children we drifted out to a captivating Land of cascades, sea green gardens and trickling waterways where every enchanting wish comes true. A breathtaking sense of delight washed over my body, mind and spirit. Falling further and further into a state I can only describe as freedom and joy, at last, I loosened the vice grip I had on my darling’s hand. I certainly didn’t need to hold him so tight… for my consciousness, my entire being began to merge with his as we moved into a state of harmony… into a synchronous state of divinity… a place of endless bliss where we carry on together though physically apart.
*****
What a downer waking up can be. It is at first, but ultimately I know it doesn’t matter.
All that matters is the vision… more real than life itself.
Friday 10/22/2004
Half Moon
Around 6:00 a.m.
I had another amazing dream. Well, not just a dream, more like a vision. In this vivid trance, I saw Max dressed in grey as he broke through the front door of our home. Frantically, he called out my name, “Mandy!”
“Mandy, where are you? I can’t see you!”
Awestruck by his wild appearance, I tried to speak or at least say his name. Yet, suddenly, I seemed to have lost my faculties.
At this point, Max became frenetic, pacing back and forth… roaring from the rafters like Panthera onca, “Mandy!”
“Where did you go? I need you!”
Though I wanted to speak, I was mute in the dream. Yet, I wanted and so needed to be there for him. And with that thought, came a sudden ability to scream, “Max, I’m here!”
“Over here!” I cried, running toward him. Our eyes met, like we had achieved some kind of lock-on delirium. He made a lunge for my body and raised me up to his corporeal being. In the dream, he seemed real, like a spirit who had a living, breathing body.
There, at the landing, we held each other in desperation. “Mandy, I’m so sorry,” Max said sadly. “I won’t leave you again.”
“I promise.”
“Max,” I sighed, relieved just to hold him again – and to hear his sweet, soulful sound. Yet, perhaps because I was afraid he might evaporate into thin air, I would not, could not, loosen the grip I had on his arm. He had left me before – in death, that is – and I wasn’t about to let that happen again.
Standing still, it seemed I could read his thoughts and sense his every emotion. As I held him close, I let the water from my eyes bathe his aching heart and soothe his restless soul. Before long, I understood, all these months he had been just as weary as I. Nevertheless, I wasn’t worried, because I knew that together we would find peace and wholeness again, even in a dream….
Hand in hand, like children we drifted out to a captivating Land of cascades, sea green gardens and trickling waterways where every enchanting wish comes true. A breathtaking sense of delight washed over my body, mind and spirit. Falling further and further into a state I can only describe as freedom and joy, at last, I loosened the vice grip I had on my darling’s hand. I certainly didn’t need to hold him so tight… for my consciousness, my entire being began to merge with his as we moved into a state of harmony… into a synchronous state of divinity… a place of endless bliss where we carry on together though physically apart.
*****
What a downer waking up can be. It is at first, but ultimately I know it doesn’t matter.
All that matters is the vision… more real than life itself.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
THE ETHEREAL EYE
Journal Entry
Saturday 10/23/2004
Around 6:45 a.m.
I woke up to discover the “ethereal eye” in the center of my visual field. When I first noticed it, my eyes were closed. Nevertheless, I have seen this eye in the past as recorded in my journal entry of 6/3, for instance. Sometimes the eye “pops up” as I meditate or as I first awaken.
I find this eye to be mystifying and, at times, entertaining. Sometimes it blinks or moves around in my visual field, but mostly, it remains centered with eyes closed. I have been perplexed and often wonder what is causing it to appear. What does it all mean? I do not know. Prior to February, I had never experienced anything like this.
*****
The eye was certainly a new and rather wild discovery for me back in 2004 when my intuitive side first began to open up.
How would you interpret the eye?
My Post Script for this entry will be forthcoming, on or before Halloween. Check back with me then AND SEE............
Mandy
ETHEREAL EYE - Post Script 1 - Posted on The Feast of All Souls, October 31, 2010
Searching for an answer to my “ethereal eye” encounter, I again broke silence and shared my experience with a few friends. I even discussed it with my work partner, Fred. For a number of years, Fred and I had consulted together on many government projects involving statistical analysis and the technical writing of manuscripts. Along with Steve, our trusty data warehouse guy, we presented our research results to a number of government directors over time.
I found Fred and Steve to be affable, analytical, and work-oriented sorts of fellows. Nevertheless, I also knew that when we weren’t busy blasting out statistical reports, Fred seemed to enjoy talking about non-technical matters and sometimes even topics of a more curious nature. As an all-around guy, he seemed to know a little bit about everything. And so, along with being a friend I could confide in, Fred had become a great source of information for me. For these reasons, I didn’t think it odd to tell him about my eye encounters.
So I told Fred about this vision, and like a seasoned doctor, he nodded as if he had already heard of the eye phenomenon. He said, “I think you’re experiences might be related to the third eye.”
Suddenly, the room began to swirl and something caught in my throat. Though I remembered watching a show about that on TV a long time ago, it was just too creepy. Quickly, I shook my head and changed the subject.
I see now that Fred’s suggestion was just too much for me to deal with back then.
Later on, I talked to another trusted friend on a different angle that had been swirling around my head for weeks on end: maybe Max is sending me signals in the form of an eye. Perhaps I’m receiving images through mental telepathy, i.e., thought forms or pictures from spirit. Is he trying to tell me something important? Like, “Hey, watch yourself!” or “Wait and see what happens next.”
Now it was Tara’s turn to shake her head. “Nah, too far-fetched,” was all she said as she lit another cigarette. She’d been gaining quite a reputation for her right-on reports. On the other hand, she still had to live down her crazy past with that motorcycle papa she married, who by the way, was really a nice guy. However, Tara’s new nickname, Wild Child, stuck. You see, Fred always teased her with it. Soon, everyone in the department was calling her Wild Child.
Honestly, I doubt she cared.
Nevertheless, I was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable about revealing too much, even to Wild Child. “Oh well, just thought I’d bounce that doozy off you and see where it lands, ha, ha.” I never did let on that I still believed that because of all I’d seen, heard and sensed over the last ten months, Max might be trying to send images to my brain.
Was I overwrought? Well, weary yes, but so much had happened that was unfathomable, at least in human terms. Soon, I was beginning to think that there are absolutely no limitations, in terms of life and death possibility – or even probability. Therefore, nothing I could conceive seemed too strange. As a statistician and research scientist, that was certainly a new stance for me.
Before long, a new madcap question came to mind: is Max attempting to give me more information about his 1993 eye accident? This, in itself, was a hair-raising experience. About seven months after our wedding day and two weeks before Christmas, Max injured his eye. Earlier that morning, he had been designing a fire safety system at his place of business. In the process, he realized he needed some important codes from an engineering notebook, the one he had left in his truck. So he got up and went to the parking lot to retrieve it.
As he walked back to the office, he opened his notebook to search for the necessary codes. Reading and walking, reading and walking… I am sure he was just trying to be efficient. I admired how Max would often devised ways of getting his job done before the due date, and with such high precision. And, for this project, the due date was fast approaching. So, book in hand, he moved quickly and as he glanced up, he ran his eye into the corner of the open rear window of a truck.
Max nearly lost it -- his eye, that is. Minutes later, I received the word. I dashed from my office to his and drove him to his ophthalmologist’s where the staff was waiting kindly to receive him. I felt awful for my husband, in so much pain. I was also worried he might lose his eye. Yet, amazingly following the doctor’s swift treatment and three (very long) nights of moaning, Max’s eye began to heal. In the end, he regained every bit of his sight. From this harrowing experience, Max and I both learned that the healing properties of the human eye are nothing short of extraordinary.
And so, when I first caught a glimpse of the ethereal eye in February of 2004, it occurred to me that this might be a new way – and a new thing – for Max to communicate to me.
One thought follows another. Soon, I began to wonder if that freak eye accident had somehow caused the cancer which spread so insidiously through Max’s body. Is this what he was trying to say by projecting the image of an eye? In 2003, the doctors had found malignant tumors in Max’s neck, head and upper torso. Perhaps, I thought, the cancer had first formed in his eye and then spread to his head and neck. This would be possible if any metal, glass or other window bits remained in his eye, only to travel to other parts of the body. I was aware that malignancies often result from toxicity, i.e., such as the contaminants of metal and glass.
Nevertheless, Wild Child’s unassuming words came to mind. Before long, this idea began to sound far-fetched as well.
Post Script 2
Since those early, probing years, I have come full circle – back to the third eye hypothesis first posed by Fred. I must say, it took close to three years of mind-blowing change to even begin to accept the third eye, not only as a concept but as a way of life; of seeing and sensing things. My eventual breakthrough gained further support from those in the know, intuitively speaking. You see, in 2004 after Max died, I had started meditating a lot to help me relax and sleep. It seems that the frequency and depth of my meditation exercises caused something to virtually bust loose in my head. And I began to connect with spirit in ways I had never considered, or even dreamed possible.
The third eye is characterized as the seat of the soul, the eye of wisdom. In certain spiritual traditions, it refers to the brow chakra or pineal gland located in the center of the cranium. The third eye signifies the higher self, the ego-free part of one’s consciousness. It is associated with visions, clairvoyance (clear vision which is one form of ESP), and precognition. See, for example, Adele Nozedar’s book, The Element Encyclopedia of Secret Signs and Symbols (2008). Readers will also find numerous treatises concerning the third eye on the Internet and in almost any local library.
Saturday 10/23/2004
Around 6:45 a.m.
I woke up to discover the “ethereal eye” in the center of my visual field. When I first noticed it, my eyes were closed. Nevertheless, I have seen this eye in the past as recorded in my journal entry of 6/3, for instance. Sometimes the eye “pops up” as I meditate or as I first awaken.
I find this eye to be mystifying and, at times, entertaining. Sometimes it blinks or moves around in my visual field, but mostly, it remains centered with eyes closed. I have been perplexed and often wonder what is causing it to appear. What does it all mean? I do not know. Prior to February, I had never experienced anything like this.
*****
The eye was certainly a new and rather wild discovery for me back in 2004 when my intuitive side first began to open up.
How would you interpret the eye?
My Post Script for this entry will be forthcoming, on or before Halloween. Check back with me then AND SEE............
Mandy
ETHEREAL EYE - Post Script 1 - Posted on The Feast of All Souls, October 31, 2010
Searching for an answer to my “ethereal eye” encounter, I again broke silence and shared my experience with a few friends. I even discussed it with my work partner, Fred. For a number of years, Fred and I had consulted together on many government projects involving statistical analysis and the technical writing of manuscripts. Along with Steve, our trusty data warehouse guy, we presented our research results to a number of government directors over time.
I found Fred and Steve to be affable, analytical, and work-oriented sorts of fellows. Nevertheless, I also knew that when we weren’t busy blasting out statistical reports, Fred seemed to enjoy talking about non-technical matters and sometimes even topics of a more curious nature. As an all-around guy, he seemed to know a little bit about everything. And so, along with being a friend I could confide in, Fred had become a great source of information for me. For these reasons, I didn’t think it odd to tell him about my eye encounters.
So I told Fred about this vision, and like a seasoned doctor, he nodded as if he had already heard of the eye phenomenon. He said, “I think you’re experiences might be related to the third eye.”
Suddenly, the room began to swirl and something caught in my throat. Though I remembered watching a show about that on TV a long time ago, it was just too creepy. Quickly, I shook my head and changed the subject.
I see now that Fred’s suggestion was just too much for me to deal with back then.
Later on, I talked to another trusted friend on a different angle that had been swirling around my head for weeks on end: maybe Max is sending me signals in the form of an eye. Perhaps I’m receiving images through mental telepathy, i.e., thought forms or pictures from spirit. Is he trying to tell me something important? Like, “Hey, watch yourself!” or “Wait and see what happens next.”
Now it was Tara’s turn to shake her head. “Nah, too far-fetched,” was all she said as she lit another cigarette. She’d been gaining quite a reputation for her right-on reports. On the other hand, she still had to live down her crazy past with that motorcycle papa she married, who by the way, was really a nice guy. However, Tara’s new nickname, Wild Child, stuck. You see, Fred always teased her with it. Soon, everyone in the department was calling her Wild Child.
Honestly, I doubt she cared.
Nevertheless, I was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable about revealing too much, even to Wild Child. “Oh well, just thought I’d bounce that doozy off you and see where it lands, ha, ha.” I never did let on that I still believed that because of all I’d seen, heard and sensed over the last ten months, Max might be trying to send images to my brain.
Was I overwrought? Well, weary yes, but so much had happened that was unfathomable, at least in human terms. Soon, I was beginning to think that there are absolutely no limitations, in terms of life and death possibility – or even probability. Therefore, nothing I could conceive seemed too strange. As a statistician and research scientist, that was certainly a new stance for me.
Before long, a new madcap question came to mind: is Max attempting to give me more information about his 1993 eye accident? This, in itself, was a hair-raising experience. About seven months after our wedding day and two weeks before Christmas, Max injured his eye. Earlier that morning, he had been designing a fire safety system at his place of business. In the process, he realized he needed some important codes from an engineering notebook, the one he had left in his truck. So he got up and went to the parking lot to retrieve it.
As he walked back to the office, he opened his notebook to search for the necessary codes. Reading and walking, reading and walking… I am sure he was just trying to be efficient. I admired how Max would often devised ways of getting his job done before the due date, and with such high precision. And, for this project, the due date was fast approaching. So, book in hand, he moved quickly and as he glanced up, he ran his eye into the corner of the open rear window of a truck.
Max nearly lost it -- his eye, that is. Minutes later, I received the word. I dashed from my office to his and drove him to his ophthalmologist’s where the staff was waiting kindly to receive him. I felt awful for my husband, in so much pain. I was also worried he might lose his eye. Yet, amazingly following the doctor’s swift treatment and three (very long) nights of moaning, Max’s eye began to heal. In the end, he regained every bit of his sight. From this harrowing experience, Max and I both learned that the healing properties of the human eye are nothing short of extraordinary.
And so, when I first caught a glimpse of the ethereal eye in February of 2004, it occurred to me that this might be a new way – and a new thing – for Max to communicate to me.
One thought follows another. Soon, I began to wonder if that freak eye accident had somehow caused the cancer which spread so insidiously through Max’s body. Is this what he was trying to say by projecting the image of an eye? In 2003, the doctors had found malignant tumors in Max’s neck, head and upper torso. Perhaps, I thought, the cancer had first formed in his eye and then spread to his head and neck. This would be possible if any metal, glass or other window bits remained in his eye, only to travel to other parts of the body. I was aware that malignancies often result from toxicity, i.e., such as the contaminants of metal and glass.
Nevertheless, Wild Child’s unassuming words came to mind. Before long, this idea began to sound far-fetched as well.
Post Script 2
Since those early, probing years, I have come full circle – back to the third eye hypothesis first posed by Fred. I must say, it took close to three years of mind-blowing change to even begin to accept the third eye, not only as a concept but as a way of life; of seeing and sensing things. My eventual breakthrough gained further support from those in the know, intuitively speaking. You see, in 2004 after Max died, I had started meditating a lot to help me relax and sleep. It seems that the frequency and depth of my meditation exercises caused something to virtually bust loose in my head. And I began to connect with spirit in ways I had never considered, or even dreamed possible.
The third eye is characterized as the seat of the soul, the eye of wisdom. In certain spiritual traditions, it refers to the brow chakra or pineal gland located in the center of the cranium. The third eye signifies the higher self, the ego-free part of one’s consciousness. It is associated with visions, clairvoyance (clear vision which is one form of ESP), and precognition. See, for example, Adele Nozedar’s book, The Element Encyclopedia of Secret Signs and Symbols (2008). Readers will also find numerous treatises concerning the third eye on the Internet and in almost any local library.
Friday, October 8, 2010
ELECTRIC LIGHT SHOW!
Journal Entry
Sunday 10/03/2004
Waning Moon
Around noon
I was standing at the sink doing dishes. Suddenly, the floodlight beamed above and I felt an unmistakable pinch at the waist. “Yeow!” I shrieked and jumped back.
Was it just an electrical charge?
About as bright as a blitzkrieg, the light show continued to flicker, pop and flash, gaining in power with every flare. Dazed, I just stood there like a cat gawking at glaring headlights. Then, at last, the floodlight began to normalize and the crazy demonstration sputtered to its end. But even more remarkable than the electric light show was the fact that the bulb never did burn out.
Eventually, I gained my wits about me and realized my hands and legs were shaking. So I left the dishes in the sink. Had to go sit down.
*****
Post Script
How many wacky electrical events have to happen before I “get it”? Has skepticism been so engrained in my brain that I am unable to see the light for looking?
Sunday 10/03/2004
Waning Moon
Around noon
I was standing at the sink doing dishes. Suddenly, the floodlight beamed above and I felt an unmistakable pinch at the waist. “Yeow!” I shrieked and jumped back.
Was it just an electrical charge?
About as bright as a blitzkrieg, the light show continued to flicker, pop and flash, gaining in power with every flare. Dazed, I just stood there like a cat gawking at glaring headlights. Then, at last, the floodlight began to normalize and the crazy demonstration sputtered to its end. But even more remarkable than the electric light show was the fact that the bulb never did burn out.
Eventually, I gained my wits about me and realized my hands and legs were shaking. So I left the dishes in the sink. Had to go sit down.
*****
Post Script
How many wacky electrical events have to happen before I “get it”? Has skepticism been so engrained in my brain that I am unable to see the light for looking?
Thursday, September 16, 2010
EARRING AND POST HOLDER "FLY" INTO EAR!
Journal Entry
Sunday 09/19/2004
Around 2:30 a.m.
Having slept flat on my back, I am awakened by a persistent buzzing in my right ear. The sound reminds me of a cell phone on “vibrate” only louder. At the same time, I feel a load in my ear and weird movement. Startled, I jump up and cry, “There’s a giant bug in my ear!” and I shake my head wildly to get it out.
But to my amazement, rather than a bug, two objects fall into my hand: my right earring and the earring post holder. I am so relieved I didn’t find an insect! However, I am perplexed. How could these two objects have “traveled” from my earlobe up into my ear as I slept?
Indeed, I have outlined the following questions for anyone who would like to analyze this one:
1. How does an earring travel from the pierced part of the earlobe into the ear above it, rather than below it? Is it possible for an earring to move or “float” into one’s ear while one is asleep? I suppose it is possible but highly unlikely. The force of gravity ought to enter into play here.
2. A post holder secures a pierced earring in place. Of course, the holder itself is secured behind the earlobe. Tell me then, how is it possible for a post holder to travel from the back of the earlobe to the front, and then “float” vertically into the ear above it while one sleeps? Shouldn’t gravity cause the post holder to descend and drop directly onto the pillow or bed?
Yet, in this case, the post holder shifted with a semi-circular motion and ascended before landing in my ear. This is not simply bizarre. It is contrary to natural law.
3. What may have triggered the long, loud buzzing noise? It felt as if this sound and the corresponding sensation (of an energy charge or a pulsing electrical current) had “caused” both of these objects to float or otherwise travel into my ear.
Though stunned by this rather off-the-wall event, I lie down again and try to get some rest. Before long, I fall back to sleep.
*****
Same morning – around 4:00 a.m.
As I glance at the clock, my heart is doing “flip-flops” in my throat because the phone is ringing.
“Who would be calling at this ungodly hour?” Sitting up, I rub my face. “Could be an emergency – better get it.” And so, half asleep, I stumble across the room and fumble around for the receiver.
“Hullo,” I say, not even trying to stifle a yawn.
Yet no sound is coming through.
So I growl, “Hello!” about as cranky as Kong.
Still no response….
So I wait… and wait… still hoping to hear something, anything!
Alas, a click. “They hung up,” I say in frustration, putting the receiver down to rub the goose bumps on my arms. “Must be the night air.”
Resigned, I plop down on the bed and hug my quilt as I replay the mental tape of all that transpired in one wee morning. Even so, I sigh and shake my head. Too full of “stuff” to sort it all out. So I get up, about as frozen as a popsicle, grab my robe and turn on the heat.
With all this tomfoolery, I’m wide-awake now. No point in going back to bed.
Soon, big slippers stomp off in the inevitable direction of the kitchen. “It’s a darn good thing I like coffee!” I say to the walls or anyone who would deign to listen.
Sunday 09/19/2004
Around 2:30 a.m.
Having slept flat on my back, I am awakened by a persistent buzzing in my right ear. The sound reminds me of a cell phone on “vibrate” only louder. At the same time, I feel a load in my ear and weird movement. Startled, I jump up and cry, “There’s a giant bug in my ear!” and I shake my head wildly to get it out.
But to my amazement, rather than a bug, two objects fall into my hand: my right earring and the earring post holder. I am so relieved I didn’t find an insect! However, I am perplexed. How could these two objects have “traveled” from my earlobe up into my ear as I slept?
Indeed, I have outlined the following questions for anyone who would like to analyze this one:
1. How does an earring travel from the pierced part of the earlobe into the ear above it, rather than below it? Is it possible for an earring to move or “float” into one’s ear while one is asleep? I suppose it is possible but highly unlikely. The force of gravity ought to enter into play here.
2. A post holder secures a pierced earring in place. Of course, the holder itself is secured behind the earlobe. Tell me then, how is it possible for a post holder to travel from the back of the earlobe to the front, and then “float” vertically into the ear above it while one sleeps? Shouldn’t gravity cause the post holder to descend and drop directly onto the pillow or bed?
Yet, in this case, the post holder shifted with a semi-circular motion and ascended before landing in my ear. This is not simply bizarre. It is contrary to natural law.
3. What may have triggered the long, loud buzzing noise? It felt as if this sound and the corresponding sensation (of an energy charge or a pulsing electrical current) had “caused” both of these objects to float or otherwise travel into my ear.
Though stunned by this rather off-the-wall event, I lie down again and try to get some rest. Before long, I fall back to sleep.
*****
Same morning – around 4:00 a.m.
As I glance at the clock, my heart is doing “flip-flops” in my throat because the phone is ringing.
“Who would be calling at this ungodly hour?” Sitting up, I rub my face. “Could be an emergency – better get it.” And so, half asleep, I stumble across the room and fumble around for the receiver.
“Hullo,” I say, not even trying to stifle a yawn.
Yet no sound is coming through.
So I growl, “Hello!” about as cranky as Kong.
Still no response….
So I wait… and wait… still hoping to hear something, anything!
Alas, a click. “They hung up,” I say in frustration, putting the receiver down to rub the goose bumps on my arms. “Must be the night air.”
Resigned, I plop down on the bed and hug my quilt as I replay the mental tape of all that transpired in one wee morning. Even so, I sigh and shake my head. Too full of “stuff” to sort it all out. So I get up, about as frozen as a popsicle, grab my robe and turn on the heat.
With all this tomfoolery, I’m wide-awake now. No point in going back to bed.
Soon, big slippers stomp off in the inevitable direction of the kitchen. “It’s a darn good thing I like coffee!” I say to the walls or anyone who would deign to listen.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
BAFFLING WARNING AT THE GYM!
Journal Entry
Sunday 08/15/2004
Around 5:00 p.m.
While exercising at the nearby gym, I had been standing next to one of the weight machines. Even so, I was unaware just how close to the heavy bars I came. Looking down all the while, I had no idea what was about to befall me; or would have if I had not responded to an adamant voice, a telepathic echo roaring the words, “Move now!”
Reflexively, I hopped. In an instant, a load came crashing to the floor! The weight, on its way down, just about grazed the top of my down-turned head. Sheer luck does not even come close to describing my fortune. If my crown had taken a direct hit, I would have suffered a concussion, no doubt. Otherwise, I might have been killed.
In a daze, I rolled onto a mat and whispered, “Thank you, whoever you are.” Choking back the tears, I cried in silence, I am so grateful! Then I sprawled out on the mat and towel-dried my face. Some people came running over.
“What happened?” a broad-shouldered man asked me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said, working up a would-be smile. “Just a little stunned. Hey, thanks for checkin’ in on me.” The nice man nodded and they all smiled. I winked at the bunch and they skipped back to their exercises. At that point, I moved to the corner of the room, planning to take five and complete my workouts. But just as I stooped, I glanced down to find my hands and legs shaking like streamers on a gift box; an apt reaction to utter disbelief.
Well, time to go. So I scraped up my gym bag and made my wobbly way to the car. Awestruck by the baffling warning that had saved me from a disastrous fate, I fumbled around with the keys and eventually flung my junk into the trunk. In due time, I managed to get into the car, turn on the ignition and back out of the parking space. Driving home like a turtle, I poked my head up toward the windshield. And, as if someone up there could hear my every word, I whooped and hollered again and again, “Thank you for being there, whoever you are. My God, thank you!”
Sunday 08/15/2004
Around 5:00 p.m.
While exercising at the nearby gym, I had been standing next to one of the weight machines. Even so, I was unaware just how close to the heavy bars I came. Looking down all the while, I had no idea what was about to befall me; or would have if I had not responded to an adamant voice, a telepathic echo roaring the words, “Move now!”
Reflexively, I hopped. In an instant, a load came crashing to the floor! The weight, on its way down, just about grazed the top of my down-turned head. Sheer luck does not even come close to describing my fortune. If my crown had taken a direct hit, I would have suffered a concussion, no doubt. Otherwise, I might have been killed.
In a daze, I rolled onto a mat and whispered, “Thank you, whoever you are.” Choking back the tears, I cried in silence, I am so grateful! Then I sprawled out on the mat and towel-dried my face. Some people came running over.
“What happened?” a broad-shouldered man asked me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said, working up a would-be smile. “Just a little stunned. Hey, thanks for checkin’ in on me.” The nice man nodded and they all smiled. I winked at the bunch and they skipped back to their exercises. At that point, I moved to the corner of the room, planning to take five and complete my workouts. But just as I stooped, I glanced down to find my hands and legs shaking like streamers on a gift box; an apt reaction to utter disbelief.
Well, time to go. So I scraped up my gym bag and made my wobbly way to the car. Awestruck by the baffling warning that had saved me from a disastrous fate, I fumbled around with the keys and eventually flung my junk into the trunk. In due time, I managed to get into the car, turn on the ignition and back out of the parking space. Driving home like a turtle, I poked my head up toward the windshield. And, as if someone up there could hear my every word, I whooped and hollered again and again, “Thank you for being there, whoever you are. My God, thank you!”
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
The Hope and the Knowing
by
Mandy Berlin
What is it? The Hope and the Knowing is an upcoming book written by Mandy Berlin. Her journal manuscript contains a chronological account of paranormal and supernatural happenings which began just hours after the death of Max Blau, the author’s husband. Along with the mind-blowing and sometimes miraculous events witnessed by the author, she details a number of bizarre and inexplicable occurrences reported to her by mutual friends and loved ones dear to Max. Ms. Berlin, a former agnostic and research scientist, has kept a fastidious and comprehensive account of episodic data. She refers to a phenomenon as an event, beginning with those that happened the night of Max’s departure, December 23, 2003, and ending with the incredible event that occurred on the first anniversary of his death.
Through research and review conducted after the occurrences of these uncanny activities, Ms. Berlin learned that the phenomena she and her cohorts observed, heard or perceived tended to cluster qualitatively into a number of classes. These categories include but are not limited to: the physical movement of objects in and around rooms; numinous dreams; apparitions and other spirit encounters; synchronicities; automatic writing; the movement of rare coins; object alteration; electrical demonstrations and electrical breakdowns; third eye phenomena; spirit communications received through clairvoyance, clairaudience and clairsentience; astral travel; guide communications; validation of an event through event repetition; and the discovery of validating written records after the occurrence of the significant event. The writer examines these and other topics in the sections that follow key events. These sections, labeled Post Scripts, are reserved for post-event research and review where she offers explanations and an interpretation of the event in question.
Although the time frame of Ms. Berlin’s book is December of 2003 through 2004, the paranormal, supernatural and synchronistic happenings have gone far beyond the boundaries of one journal year. Surprisingly, the rate of occurrence increased in 2005 and 2006, especially with respect to synchronistic activities. She attributes this fact, in part, to an increased focus on event recording over time. The author believes she lost track of some of the paranormal happenings just after her husband died, because she either misplaced her notes or neglected to record them in the face of such awesome activity. Although Mandy’s incredible encounters with Max have not been as frequent as in the early years, they do happen from time to time, notably on special occasions. For this reason, she has staunchly continued to document rare and unusual events, even into the year 2010.
Author’s note: To protect my friends, loved ones and colleagues, I have changed their names in my forthcoming journal. However, I assure you that no character nor story in this book is fictitious. Each and every incident documented in The Hope and the Knowing is true to the best of my ability to capture and record the quintessence of a phenomenological event.
Mandy Berlin
Chandler, Arizona
June 1, 2010
Mandy Berlin
What is it? The Hope and the Knowing is an upcoming book written by Mandy Berlin. Her journal manuscript contains a chronological account of paranormal and supernatural happenings which began just hours after the death of Max Blau, the author’s husband. Along with the mind-blowing and sometimes miraculous events witnessed by the author, she details a number of bizarre and inexplicable occurrences reported to her by mutual friends and loved ones dear to Max. Ms. Berlin, a former agnostic and research scientist, has kept a fastidious and comprehensive account of episodic data. She refers to a phenomenon as an event, beginning with those that happened the night of Max’s departure, December 23, 2003, and ending with the incredible event that occurred on the first anniversary of his death.
Through research and review conducted after the occurrences of these uncanny activities, Ms. Berlin learned that the phenomena she and her cohorts observed, heard or perceived tended to cluster qualitatively into a number of classes. These categories include but are not limited to: the physical movement of objects in and around rooms; numinous dreams; apparitions and other spirit encounters; synchronicities; automatic writing; the movement of rare coins; object alteration; electrical demonstrations and electrical breakdowns; third eye phenomena; spirit communications received through clairvoyance, clairaudience and clairsentience; astral travel; guide communications; validation of an event through event repetition; and the discovery of validating written records after the occurrence of the significant event. The writer examines these and other topics in the sections that follow key events. These sections, labeled Post Scripts, are reserved for post-event research and review where she offers explanations and an interpretation of the event in question.
Although the time frame of Ms. Berlin’s book is December of 2003 through 2004, the paranormal, supernatural and synchronistic happenings have gone far beyond the boundaries of one journal year. Surprisingly, the rate of occurrence increased in 2005 and 2006, especially with respect to synchronistic activities. She attributes this fact, in part, to an increased focus on event recording over time. The author believes she lost track of some of the paranormal happenings just after her husband died, because she either misplaced her notes or neglected to record them in the face of such awesome activity. Although Mandy’s incredible encounters with Max have not been as frequent as in the early years, they do happen from time to time, notably on special occasions. For this reason, she has staunchly continued to document rare and unusual events, even into the year 2010.
Author’s note: To protect my friends, loved ones and colleagues, I have changed their names in my forthcoming journal. However, I assure you that no character nor story in this book is fictitious. Each and every incident documented in The Hope and the Knowing is true to the best of my ability to capture and record the quintessence of a phenomenological event.
Mandy Berlin
Chandler, Arizona
June 1, 2010
Friday, July 16, 2010
A SHINING PIECE OF SILVER
The following poem is based on a true story. I will tell you more about the phenomenon in my upcoming video, to be uploaded to youtube around mid-August. Both the video and the poem concern a fantastic paranormal incident I witnessed in my home on August 29, 2004. As you can see, the style of my poem is a bit Victorian; perhaps this is because the Victorian Era was a favorite of mine. ~ MB
A Shining Piece of Silver
Gath’ring up my courage with my clothing
For a voyage I knew that I must take
All purpose had died along with you, dear,
Oh Lord, it was a time I couldn’t shake.
Packing jewelry, thinking and rememb’ring
My wedding ring you carried to your grave,
When before me, a quaking at the table
And the tablecloth flew off with a wave!
Before I knew it, clutter crashed on ceramic ~
Books and orchids, my lovely purple vase.
“This can’t be happ’ning!” I said in sheer amazement,
Then sat and stared at the remnants, in a daze.
Befuddled, I picked up all the pieces,
And the tablecloth that was so elegant,
Lay pointing to a shining piece of silver
Hidden shyly beneath a blooming plant.
Perplexed, I sat down with the silver
Not knowing from where the coin had come.
I studied that shining piece of silver
Most certain it wasn’t from that room!
So simple, it looked just like a quarter,
But it wasn’t ~ the coin was something else!
I shook my head, returning to my business,
And slipped the piece safely in my purse.
The day arrived when I’d venture on my journey
And a thunderbolt hit me through and through ~
I locked the door, keys landing on the silver,
And remembered something that you used to do.
“You’re trav’ling, my sweetheart,” you would tell me,
“And to ensure that there is no blasted curse,
Take this coin along with you on your journey
And keep it tucked away inside your purse.”
“And when you’re weary and your trip is over,
Fly back to me and I will see you through,
But don’t leave behind this little piece of silver;
It will guarantee that I’ll be seeing you.”
‘Though we’re parted and you’re so far away now,
I keep your silver coin tucked away inside
To remind me, again, we will be meeting
When my journey takes me to the Other Side.
A Shining Piece of Silver
Gath’ring up my courage with my clothing
For a voyage I knew that I must take
All purpose had died along with you, dear,
Oh Lord, it was a time I couldn’t shake.
Packing jewelry, thinking and rememb’ring
My wedding ring you carried to your grave,
When before me, a quaking at the table
And the tablecloth flew off with a wave!
Before I knew it, clutter crashed on ceramic ~
Books and orchids, my lovely purple vase.
“This can’t be happ’ning!” I said in sheer amazement,
Then sat and stared at the remnants, in a daze.
Befuddled, I picked up all the pieces,
And the tablecloth that was so elegant,
Lay pointing to a shining piece of silver
Hidden shyly beneath a blooming plant.
Perplexed, I sat down with the silver
Not knowing from where the coin had come.
I studied that shining piece of silver
Most certain it wasn’t from that room!
So simple, it looked just like a quarter,
But it wasn’t ~ the coin was something else!
I shook my head, returning to my business,
And slipped the piece safely in my purse.
The day arrived when I’d venture on my journey
And a thunderbolt hit me through and through ~
I locked the door, keys landing on the silver,
And remembered something that you used to do.
“You’re trav’ling, my sweetheart,” you would tell me,
“And to ensure that there is no blasted curse,
Take this coin along with you on your journey
And keep it tucked away inside your purse.”
“And when you’re weary and your trip is over,
Fly back to me and I will see you through,
But don’t leave behind this little piece of silver;
It will guarantee that I’ll be seeing you.”
‘Though we’re parted and you’re so far away now,
I keep your silver coin tucked away inside
To remind me, again, we will be meeting
When my journey takes me to the Other Side.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
THE HAIR DRYER AFFAIR
Mandy’s Journal Entry
Tuesday 07/20/2004
Around 6:45 a.m.
Standing in the bathroom, I’m talking to Max as I sometimes do while getting ready for work. After all, who is there to listen to me besides my two little ladies? Perched in the hall are my cats, gawking at me now. Their little ears flick with each inflection. Nattering on, I pat on some blush and dry my hair. Then, I turn off the dryer and set it down on the counter. But as I brush back my hair, at once, I hear the word “Beautiful!” full-bodied as it can be, causing me to turn around and really look.
You see, when Max was here, “Beautiful” had become a standing joke between us. Sometimes when we got ready to go out for the evening, he would lean up against the bathroom door and watch me fix my hair. Then, as I’d finish getting ready, he’d peek in and say, “Beautiful!”
“Max,” I’d smile, and we’d smooch or something.
At other times when I was getting ready, Max would walk by and say, “Beautiful!” in passing. When this happened, I’d peer into the hall, and say, “Oh, you’re just saying that to get me to move faster” ~ as in, hey you look fine, but let’s get going!
Still, he seemed sincere. Sweet moments held forever in memory, forever in time….
So I’m standing in the bathroom looking in the mirror, brushing the same spot over and over again. And, from nowhere, again comes that high-spirited sound, “Beautiful!” like an echo through time immemorial.
I brood at the mirror, staring at the woman who is scratching her forehead, staring back at me. Is this just another one of those memories, a fond recollection of a time gone by?
Or am I “hearing” his thoughts?
So I set my brush down and stand very still, close my eyes and breathe like I do when I go into a meditative state.
“Max, are you here?” I ask aloud.
Then, focusing more, I say, “Hey, if you’re here Darling, would you give me a sign?”
I put on my lipstick and start to laugh, “You know, I remember the time….”
In an instant, whoosh, the hair dryer begins to blow, like all by itself! It’s moving all over the counter. I’m amazed it doesn’t fall on the floor. Aghast, I let out a blood-curdling scream and jump back as if it’s a Gila monster about to devour me! (By this time, the cats have vacated the premises.)
The Lizard rages on and on.
Then, just as astoundingly, it stops.
Yep, the hair dryer turned itself OFF, or so it appeared. I never touched the thing, I promise.
Stunned, I sat down on the toilet seat and tried to comprehend what had just happened. Needless to say, I had a bit of trouble getting to work on time. I was just a little freaked out.
Post Script 1
Since Max died, my hair dryer had turned itself ON a number of times (four, I think) without my intervention. This is strange in itself because it never happened before he died. What is more, the hair dryer had never turned OFF without my first switching it off ~ not until today, that is.
Of course, I had to be sure my hair dryer was still working. So, as I continued getting ready for my proverbial job (if, indeed, I still had one) I decided to test the contraption:
I turn the switch ON. No hesitation there; the dryer starts as usual and blows with as much force as ever. Then I flip the switch to the OFF position; no problems there either. The dryer stops as it should. Then, to be sure, I flip the switch several times in succession to find that my hair dryer is still working quite well. No problems at all.
Yes, my hair dryer had turned ON by itself several times in the past. And yes, this time it stopped (clicked to the OFF position) without my ever touching it ~ certainly something new and out-of-the-ordinary there. But I’m still overlooking something. What is the missing link? Hmmm…. I need another cup of coffee, but I don’t go get it. Instead, I go back to the toilet seat to collect my thoughts and pull at caked-on mascara.
Then, as I breathe and pull, the answer comes: Bingo! Oh wow, I can’t believe it. The dryer turned itself ON right after I asked for a response.
“Darling, would you give me a sign?” No more than seconds later, The Lizard goes Whoosh…. The hair dryer comes ON!
Pattern: Stimulus ~ Response ~ Contiguous in time
Post Script 2
Was this hair dryer affair just another fluke ~ another coincidence within an inordinately large series of coincidences and bizarre happenstances? I don’t think so.
In light of the fact that I have determined I have a fully functioning hair dryer:
The ON signal which arrived within seconds of my verbal request as well as the hair dryer turning OFF without any human intervention whatsoever ~ both phenomena, which occurred contiguous in time ~ suggest the involvement of a higher intelligence.
There comes a time when one must concede there is more going on than meets the eye.
Tuesday 07/20/2004
Around 6:45 a.m.
Standing in the bathroom, I’m talking to Max as I sometimes do while getting ready for work. After all, who is there to listen to me besides my two little ladies? Perched in the hall are my cats, gawking at me now. Their little ears flick with each inflection. Nattering on, I pat on some blush and dry my hair. Then, I turn off the dryer and set it down on the counter. But as I brush back my hair, at once, I hear the word “Beautiful!” full-bodied as it can be, causing me to turn around and really look.
You see, when Max was here, “Beautiful” had become a standing joke between us. Sometimes when we got ready to go out for the evening, he would lean up against the bathroom door and watch me fix my hair. Then, as I’d finish getting ready, he’d peek in and say, “Beautiful!”
“Max,” I’d smile, and we’d smooch or something.
At other times when I was getting ready, Max would walk by and say, “Beautiful!” in passing. When this happened, I’d peer into the hall, and say, “Oh, you’re just saying that to get me to move faster” ~ as in, hey you look fine, but let’s get going!
Still, he seemed sincere. Sweet moments held forever in memory, forever in time….
So I’m standing in the bathroom looking in the mirror, brushing the same spot over and over again. And, from nowhere, again comes that high-spirited sound, “Beautiful!” like an echo through time immemorial.
I brood at the mirror, staring at the woman who is scratching her forehead, staring back at me. Is this just another one of those memories, a fond recollection of a time gone by?
Or am I “hearing” his thoughts?
So I set my brush down and stand very still, close my eyes and breathe like I do when I go into a meditative state.
“Max, are you here?” I ask aloud.
Then, focusing more, I say, “Hey, if you’re here Darling, would you give me a sign?”
I put on my lipstick and start to laugh, “You know, I remember the time….”
In an instant, whoosh, the hair dryer begins to blow, like all by itself! It’s moving all over the counter. I’m amazed it doesn’t fall on the floor. Aghast, I let out a blood-curdling scream and jump back as if it’s a Gila monster about to devour me! (By this time, the cats have vacated the premises.)
The Lizard rages on and on.
Then, just as astoundingly, it stops.
Yep, the hair dryer turned itself OFF, or so it appeared. I never touched the thing, I promise.
Stunned, I sat down on the toilet seat and tried to comprehend what had just happened. Needless to say, I had a bit of trouble getting to work on time. I was just a little freaked out.
Post Script 1
Since Max died, my hair dryer had turned itself ON a number of times (four, I think) without my intervention. This is strange in itself because it never happened before he died. What is more, the hair dryer had never turned OFF without my first switching it off ~ not until today, that is.
Of course, I had to be sure my hair dryer was still working. So, as I continued getting ready for my proverbial job (if, indeed, I still had one) I decided to test the contraption:
I turn the switch ON. No hesitation there; the dryer starts as usual and blows with as much force as ever. Then I flip the switch to the OFF position; no problems there either. The dryer stops as it should. Then, to be sure, I flip the switch several times in succession to find that my hair dryer is still working quite well. No problems at all.
Yes, my hair dryer had turned ON by itself several times in the past. And yes, this time it stopped (clicked to the OFF position) without my ever touching it ~ certainly something new and out-of-the-ordinary there. But I’m still overlooking something. What is the missing link? Hmmm…. I need another cup of coffee, but I don’t go get it. Instead, I go back to the toilet seat to collect my thoughts and pull at caked-on mascara.
Then, as I breathe and pull, the answer comes: Bingo! Oh wow, I can’t believe it. The dryer turned itself ON right after I asked for a response.
“Darling, would you give me a sign?” No more than seconds later, The Lizard goes Whoosh…. The hair dryer comes ON!
Pattern: Stimulus ~ Response ~ Contiguous in time
Post Script 2
Was this hair dryer affair just another fluke ~ another coincidence within an inordinately large series of coincidences and bizarre happenstances? I don’t think so.
In light of the fact that I have determined I have a fully functioning hair dryer:
The ON signal which arrived within seconds of my verbal request as well as the hair dryer turning OFF without any human intervention whatsoever ~ both phenomena, which occurred contiguous in time ~ suggest the involvement of a higher intelligence.
There comes a time when one must concede there is more going on than meets the eye.
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