Attempted Retrievals In Maine (October, 27th 2023)

     
     Some hours after hearing the initial news (while looking for updates on the Georgia Election interference trial) I asked spirit, as I often do, assuming guides have info that I don’t, were there any victims still earthbound in the trauma.  I was told they thought a couple were still there, though some had been ‘moved on’ by astral plane helpers.  That was about 11pm Thursday night.  Around 4am Friday morning, awake after a washroom visit, I felt I could focus to move to the affected locations in that town in Maine.  Expressing the intention to move back in time to some time after the shootings and departures, I came to the bowling alley, empty as far as I could tell, but assuming it had been cleared and locked, I shouted out ‘Anyone still here?’ a couple of times, trying to sound friendly and not scary and suspecting that was a vain hope given the shock of the situation.  A young man, who might have been a teenager, or maybe just reacting like one, made his presence known to me, emerging from what I think was from underneath a table or chair.  He wanted to know who I was and what I was doing there.

     I tried to assure him I was there to assist him in getting some help for his injuries.  Of course he was ‘dead’ but didn’t know it, being much too traumatised to even figure that out.  With some more chat I was able to convince him to let me help out by taking him to a place where he might be quickly attended to.  I asked for a small hospital/clinic environment to be created for his benefit, which, not surprisingly, had already been done. We arrived in a flash and I lead him in.  A nurse met us right away and said some reassuring words to him and led him off.  I knew to go back to the ‘bar’ for others and found myself inside a neighbourhood ‘joint’ where the comfort zone enjoyed by locals had been overlaid by the terror vibe.  That I could even sense this was amazing to me, for a second or two, but there you go.  Psychic sensitivities seem to increase as you practise this ‘craft’ and I’ve been ‘at it’ for many years, though mostly unconsciously while asleep.

     I was just kind of there, looking about what looked like a movie set with the requisite carnage.  My timing had been a little too sharp I think, perhaps I should have waited.  Anyway a man appeared, seeing angry as well as shocked. He told me I even knew the guy and tried to stop him but he got me.  Again he felt injured rather than dead, his energy level higher than the terrorised man in the bowling alley, mainly due to that kind of ‘how dare he’ kind of anger.  I suspected but did not actually know that after being ‘killed’ he kept fighting the shooter (ineffectually of course) in his spirit body and would have gone after me if he thought I was connected somehow.  Immediately I projected concern and kindness, which is easy enough when you’re doing this sort of thing, and again I convinced him we should go somewhere to take care of his wounds, which we did, arriving quickly at the same small hospital/clinic atmosphere and being met.  The ‘body count’ of traumatised spirits still hiding may be off, but I felt the situation had been taken care of and settled back to sleep.  (This written around noon Friday from notes.)

Retrieval Efforts At Gaza October 30th, 2023


     Sunday Oct 29, 11pm:  It was on my mind after reading of the latest and much disputed casualty figures and the many bodies still under rubble and I went to bed mulling it over.  Waking around 3am I obeyed my bladder and lay awake listening to the patter of light rain.  Taking a few minutes to get focused as random thoughts on personal issues jostled for attention until finally feeling I could project to the intended destination, I found myself there, in that familiar misty twilight-lit border area that exists at all times with or without conflicts raging.  Unconscious astral bodies floated by me, perhaps a few more than usual for that area.  I came across a group of them huddled together more for companionship than the warmth they might seek while still physical.  Images of ruins and rubble as vague as clouds formed a backdrop.  I wondered if these unconscious astral humans had brought them along as expectations, or perhaps earlier waves of the newly dead had done so.  Ultimately of course it did not matter.

      I had not by then put out any telepathic signal but was merely getting used to the environment, but this ‘group’ clustered around closely, as if waiting.  My ‘light’, dimmed for the occasion, must have given them hope rather than doubt or despair.  All this in about five seconds.  I put out the question: Do you want to move on away from here.  The wave of response, feelings not words, seemed to imply a Yes.  So I threw a ‘bubble’ of protection around the group, eight to ten at a quick guess, all ages, and expressed the intent to raise vibration and bring us out of there.  Suddenly we were in a grassy field/meadow, a sprinkling of wild flowers, occasional trees and flat rocks that were quickly used as benches.  It was far from the little entry level paradises or organised refugee camps that I’d been accustomed to over the years and I assumed that astral helpers had quickly created it as a temporary resting spot for those long unused to open spaces.  Folk sprawled on the grass and sat on the flat rocks as if they were easy chairs.

     Unsure as to how I might continue I asked for assistance from their community and soon two men appeared, going around the scattered group greeting each one.  Had they been community leaders in the physical?  Probably, and I quickly exited the scene and back to the misty borderland area, where I began to wander about, to see what I might encounter.  Astral replicas of rubble and the remains of walls created an atmosphere of streets, with dazed folk leaning against what they thought were bits of structures and some wandering about, looking lost.  One man approached me ‘asking’ if I was the guide he’d heard about.  I nodded ‘saying’ I was one of them.  Were there others he might find for the trip? He ‘said’ there was and I assured him I would return soon and take any group he had gathered.

     I walked off, pretending to have some purpose in mind, basically to give him ‘time’ to bring out his group, which I suspected was hiding in the shadows, shadows they may have perceived as walls or maybe basements.  As I wandered, wondering who else might show up and suspecting I was being eyeballed by suspicious heads here and there, like neighbours parting curtains to peek at strangers. I came back to the spot to find a group lead by the man who ‘spoke’ to me.  He was obviously a trusted member of their neighbourhood and they looked to him rather than me.  I put out they thought that we might leave for paradise soon if they were ready.  A wave of assent hit me, so I threw another ‘bubble’ around the group and off we went, arriving at a seemingly prettier and more organised reception area, where they all walked of towards some greeters waving and quickly approaching.   My part completed, I returned to the borderland area and  wandered about some more, seeing a couple of shack-like soup kitchens and coffee places stacked up against broken walls and near piles of rubble.  They both had ‘customers’ standing by looking to be served.  One of the ‘servers’ glanced at me knowingly.  They can tell by your light, although dimmed, that you are visiting with a purpose.

      I felt myself drawing away from that ‘aspect of me’ that was on patrol and slipping back into the bed  and the prospect of sleep. I knew from many earlier trips over the years that ‘aspects’ like this could easily detach and operate independently, so I allowed myself to move back into sleep, wondering if maybe I should get up and take notes but eventually deciding I would recall when required, as I am doing now, Monday 10.30am.