Lynn

I'm dead.

Well I am dead from your point of view anyway. From your point of view I have been dead a long time. Yet I speak from the One. If you didn't get forced into this place, this timelessness, this collective, either before or after your physical death, you won't know what I am talking about.

It seems incomprehensible to those who have not had the experience and even to some who HAVE had it. It is incomprehensible to ALL of us at first. It is like being slam dunked into the infinite, a state beyond our capability as human beings...like being forced into total meaninglessness/meaningfulness without any guideposts of any kind. The fear is quite literally overwhelming.

I was alone in the endless expanse of all creation. No one helped me. No one heard me. No one saw me....I fell off the earth. I fell into the vastness of space. My isolation was complete.

The called me crazy.

They thought it had nothing at all to do with them. They were wrong but they could never BE wrong you see. So instead, they heard all I said as symptoms of my insanity. They use their precedent settings and their training to do that. They had heard it all before you see...it goes back over time to our beginnings and planned confusions of the Spirit they called the Devil way back then. The one who told the original pair, “don't listen to God as He is trying to trick you! HE is jealous of YOU. He knows that if you stop listening to Him you will get his power and He does not want to share it.” 

It was all the same old Bait and Switch Con between the truth teller and the liar. Of course, the original pair of humans did not understand that then, and so that old snake in the grass of Eden caused them to doubt themselves and to doubt God. The game has continued over our human history  because of it, even though some of us know the truth. 

They said I was not 'like them.' But I was you see. I saw them too well...far too well and I would not play the game with them; so they had to call me crazy. Finally I GOT crazy and the smiled about it...SMILED, as if they were now satisfied.

At first it was all an outer experience. They distanced themselves from me. They seemed to need to do that. Then when I could not get near them to tell them what they were doing and how it was affecting me, the outer game became the inner game as well. It was like coping with the same experience on two levels at the same time and the inner one could not be stopped or silenced, not for one minute, day or night. It was even more exhausting then spending time every day putting up with the sanctimonious staff of the psychiatric hospital, excuse me 'health centre' acting out all day when they saw me in the streets.

I remember all the little scenes they performed, for me often in little groups oblivious to their own stupidity and projecting it onto me.

There was this one in my town who was a head case of her own, denied of course as they all do, who just loved to go down to the town square and 'observe' me sitting six feet away from her while she discussed me with groups of others. Often she felt moved to express her derogatory opinion of me to ex patients of the psych hospital as well, most of them from the addictions unit there, who were eager to get from her all the latest rumours out of the hospital with me as the topic. She was more than happy to accommodate them too.  I watched her doing it over and over again, always it seemed oblivious to my seeing her, or maybe she was just so smug and arrogant that she didn't care...I Remember two consecutive days when she and others like her put on a performance for me.

I was sitting in the town square one day waiting for a bus when Magpie Maggie was also sitting on a bench about 10 feet away from me. A group of addiction graduates was sitting with her. One of them spotted me and so felt compelled to let Maggie magpie know. She turned and looked at me. I looked back. Her expression remained self deluded as always. I knew she felt invisible to me. As was her habit she then began to talk about me as it I was not there.

She asked the others observing me like a specimen what I was doing. “She is just sitting there” one of them replied.

“What is the expression on her face?” she asked. Sort of nothing replied the objective observer with her. (I resisted the urge to say, Somewhat less stunned and deluded than your own dear...” but one cannot correct the ‘correctors’ without awareness that more 'help' may well be the result of doing so you know..so I only thought it when i was alive and suppressed the urge to say it out loud.”)

This was not enough of an assessment for Maggie so she then said, “I have to look for myself...” So she got up out of her seat which had been with her back to me, punctuated furtive glancing from the side of her head and switched seats with the woman who had been giving her the bulletins so she could observe me for herself. I looked at her. As always she did not see me seeing her. Maggie had been doing a running commentary with me as her topic for many years. She never could figure out that she was not hidden in plain sight.  Of course, I could never tell her either, or anyone else like her, as that might have upset THEM and it was always how everyone else felt that mattered. That is what they kept telling me...over and over they kept telling me.

As Maggie acted this out, a man who had been watching all this drama for many years sat right near her on his scooter. He looked at me and then at her. I looked at him and then at her. He shook his head like bloody amazing...He lived in the ‘disabled’ apartment building downtown and had hear it all too...over and over again.

The next day, Maggie was seen doing her rounds in the downtown mall. A psychiatric hospital volunteer saw her and rushed over to give her a big hug. Maggie needed to be soothed as apparently someone at the hospital had said something to her which caused her a little upset.

The volunteer wanted her to know that there were a whole lot of people who agreed with her. She did not want her to feel bad about any problems she had caused me or any of the others by keeping me away from the sick. Clearly she was right. The store clerk agreed.

When I died, I was still being told, usually with big exasperated sighs, that if I ‘thought’ that store clerks I did not even know, psychiatric hospital staff and many volunteers were talking about me often right in front of me as if I was not there, it meant I needed a change in medication.

Our reality never dies but it remains the unseen world to those who need to deny it exists and to deny they are a part of it.