Yesterday, anticipating this birthday, I was writing about where I had come to in my life, realizing that a lot of my worries had been a waste of time, and it naturally flowed into a brief but meaningful exchange with my friends upstairs about our place in the universe, which I thought I’d better share with you.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

So tomorrow is my birthday.

I can see that I am loved by many I have scarcely thought of. My habit of considering only what I can see you’re here, and not imagining what takes place around me, has distorted my perceptions all these years.

My life has had cumulative results, too, however little it has seemed to me to be amounting to anything. And, as with everything else, it is the things I did for their own sake that lead to other things. I cadged that free Guidelines course on the strength of a promise of an article that, in the event, I was unable to get placed. So I determined to publish any TMI-related manuscript I came across, and one led to another. I joined VML [the Voyagers Mailing List, a Monroe-oriented email group], and participated actively — and in fact (how could I have forgotten?) I was responsible for Tony Sanders starting VML, though that little bit of history has been lost.

Participating on VML gave me a certain stature among many people, and my continuing to publish so many authors give more, and then Muddy Tracks began its slow but ever-increasing impact. Now I am an expert, being more than 50 miles from home. But — very satisfying – it is an earned reputation.

And then there was my conversation with Skip Atwater [who ran TMI’s consciousness lab] that led to 10 black-box sessions in 2000 — and led to my sessions with Rita — and led after long delay to The Sphere And The Hologram — and led to The Cosmic Internet. Another reputation, one scarcely begun perhaps.

Maybe it is time to begin to write that memoir that [my friend] Gordon Phinn was encouraging me to write. It could be done easily enough, a bit at a time, and I suppose it could help me clarify a perspective. But what I wouldn’t want to do is write about Hampton Roads and authors etc. No interest in that. Something about business and what I realized only too late, yes. An interesting idea.

But first there is the Hemingway book, still cooling off, though with its final chapters not yet written.

So, gentlemen, what’s new?

You mean, “well watchman, what of the night?”

That’s right. I couldn’t quite remember.

Your newer perspective is giving you tranquility, is it not?

It is. I noticed that.

About time.

Maybe overdue?

Things take as long as they take. We’re glad to see it whenever it arrives.

And besides, there are other versions of me; you don’t have all your bets on one horse.

Well, let’s just say that every living experiment — living essay, we might say — is infinitely precious. We don’t have any less interest in anyone, any more than you would have less interest in any one part of your physical body, or less interest in any one day of the week or month or year — at least, when you’re seeing straight you realize that they are equally valuable, because inseparable from everything else. What part of your life could you dispense with and still be unchanged? And how could you have any idea of the effects of the simplest change?

I couldn’t.

This is the sense behind “God loves you and cares about you” that materialists have been unable to fathom. Yes, the words have gone dead on them, but more, the sense of it is lost. They can’t see how it could be possible, therefore conclude it isn’t possible, therefore conclude that the massive intelligences of the past that believed it were either children intellectually or were afraid of shadows — or, easiest, they have remained ignorant of those great minds, and have no data to reconcile.

Whenever we get into one of these provocative exchanges, I get all impatient to put it all together in a book. An e-book, perhaps, but a book. Yet I can see that the blog may be a better way to do it. More current, more active.

You’ve got a blog entry right here, if you care to use it.

Hmmm, so I do. Perhaps I shall. It could appear tomorrow.

Birthday Musings

Could do a little better than that, I think. Perhaps “Another Birthday.”

Well, that’s your department.