Shared Consciousness
Sitting in the front seat of my car, daydreaming and drifting because I was about half an hour early for a book signing at Leapin’ Lizard’s in Freeport, Maine.
Without warning, I “bumped into” another energy. I was surprised and curious. The other energy reacted as it was also surprised.
Without thinking, I expressed energetically, “What are you doing here in my consciousness?”
“I don’t know,” he replied energetically.
“Me, neither,” I added.
“I guess I am confused,” he said, and his energy dispersed. “People I love don’t speak to me any more and I think they don’t even see me. When I reach out to touch someone, touch does not come back to me. And the craziest thing is that the wind goes through me.”
I took a long breath and breathed to the bottom of my belly to center myself and then tapped my fingers against the steering wheel before I spoke.
“But you hear me, right?”
“Yes, but not through my physical ears,” I said softly.
“Do you see me?”
“I see you as energy, like I feel your Essence, but I do not see your body or what you look like.”
“Do you know what I am?” he asked.
Before I could reply, he said, “I didn’t do drugs, honest, and this feels too big and it has lasted too long to be a dream.”
“What’s the last thing that you can remember about when you had a body?” I asked tenderly.
“A big blast and then darkness.”
“I don’t think there is an easy way to tell you this. I don’t even know your name. But I believe you are dead.”
“Are you dead, too?” he asked.
“No, I am sitting in the front seat of my car about ready to do a book signing.”
“How come you ‘get’ me and nobody else acts as if they know me anymore?”
“I have experience communicating with people who are dead. Although I prefer to call these people Inspirited Ones rather than dead. Sometimes I help people who are stuck between the dimensions of living and dying to ‘further on,’ if that is their choice.”
Silence.
“How did you find me?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Feels to me like we kind of bumped into each other. Maybe you found me,” I offered.
“I am still confused.”
“I might be able to help you understand; are you up for that?”
Silence.
I sensed his nervousness and confusion.
“I am wondering what you believed happens to people when they die.”
“No Noth…nothing. Life is over. Kaput. Over. Song ended.”
“And then? ” I asked.
“Nothing, over is over.”
“So you do not believe that the journey continues after death.”
“Right. That is all poppycock.”
I sighed, hoping words would come to me. I did my best to explain that what we believe creates our reality whether we are living or Inspirited. I suggested that perhaps he has created no future because he had no belief that energy continues after death.
Then I stopped talking because I was aware that words were creating a gap between us rather than a connection. I wanted to stay connected to him and our conversation.
I breathed a few times. Then I continued, “Look, one of the reasons we are communicating is because I believe it is possible to talk to people who are no longer in their bodies. I have done this many times. That experience leads me to believe that life continues. I was not raised to believe this way.”
“I believe you, but I don’t know what I believe about being dead. “
“Of course you do. You believe exactly what you are feeling. There really is no difference between living and dying when it comes to beliefs. We receive precisely what we believe.”
“Are you telling me that if I believed that family members and my ‘Nam buddies who are dead would be able to see me and help me—they would?”
“Yes, that is what I am saying. And the stronger you believe a thought, the quicker it will happen.”
I took a clearing breath and sensed him drifting away. Intuitively, I knew he was in the process of crafting a different reality.
I smiled, threw him a kiss and bountiful blessings.
Then I unbuckled my seatbelt, opened the car door, and walked rather unsteadily to the door of Leapin’ Lizards for a book signing about Soul Befriending, smiling at the soul befriending experience I had just left.