Waking around 4am Nov.4, I thought to explore the misty dark borderland area above Gaza that I worked before. Knowing that I and others had been assisting the recently deceased on both sides for a while now, but usually in an unconscious state, I felt that repeated urge to make at least some of the explorations conscious that interested parties might gain a fuller understanding of the process and its practice.
I felt myself ‘there’ and was wandering about, open to whatever might happen. Then it occurred that I might explore the extensive tunnel system recently reported and videos on digital media. I found myself moving through the maze of tunnels without really knowing the layout, if indeed that was possible. A slight bit of claustrophobia nibbled at the edges of my ‘regular’ calmness. I was surprised not to see more activity. Suddenly I came upon a slumped body, looking like a fighter shot and left for dead. As I looked at the corpse wondering if a spirit was hiding/sleeping inside, as is sometimes the case, I felt an approach from behind. It was the spirit asking what I was doing there. His question felt aggressive if not exactly threatening. I explained my purpose and my neutrality in the situation. He seemed unconvinced. I asked why he did not want to move on to a heaven world. Would it be his heaven world or mine? Ah, suspicion. Did I look Christian? I often thought I must appear to many as if I’d just retired from being an equipment manager for the Grateful Dead. That wizened hippie look has its advantages. I told him it would be a heaven of his choice and that I would not attempt to convert him in any way. He did not use the term ‘crusader’ that I’d heard before but I sensed he was thinking it. He insisted he would be better used here with his comrades defending the honour of his community. I pointed to his corpse at our feet. Yes, he knew. The look in his eyes told me he was still fired up from the passion of his mission, so wished him well and went on my way. I felt a tiny bit of regret coming my way as I nodded and smiled.
Sensing that was it for the night, at least the conscious portion of it, I joined my body in bed and slowly unwound from my curiosity. I did recall an interaction during the Iraq war of 2003 with a group of Kurds, knowingly deceased, but still convinced they could assist their comrades in freeing their people from the yoke of the Iraqis. (11am November 4, 2023)
Further Gaza Retrievals • November 8th, 2023
Having a space of time this morning around 7am I thought to explore the possibility of more retrieval work around the ‘borderland’ area of Gaza City. Focusing took a minute or two as I shunted aside the various ‘things I had to do’ that day. Arriving at the misty twilight area where the confused and fearful dead tend to congregate I came across a firefight between the IDF forces and those of Hamas. Using their assumptions of semi-destroyed walls and doorways as places from which to shoot and duck, these dead-but-don’t-know-it fighters could not be contacted, at least by me at that time. So I moved on and came across a group of civilians – waiting, cowering, shivering. A woman, in ragged traditional dress, boldly asked if I was the one that was ‘supposed to come back for them’. I replied apologetically, saying No, not me, but that we were very busy and whoever was there before might have gotten distracted. I asked if they were all ready to move on to ‘their’ heaven. Assent was murmured by the group so I threw a largish protective bubble around them, guessing at about 20/25, and once energetically sealed, moved us on up a level, coming to a refugee camp, one I recognised, and one that was set up to inspire good feelings of relief in new arrivals. The materials of the large solid- looking tents were colourful and cheerful. Large pots of some stew or soup were cooking over open fires. My group quickly dispersed, as if they knew just what to do, and the woman who first ‘spoke’ to me, turned and reminded me to go back for the others. Assuring her that I would, I disappeared back to the misty twilight ruins, where I soon came across another group, this time with a man as spokesman, who asked if I might lead them ‘away from here’. I assured him that I could, but did everyone wish to go. He told me that some were doubters and others were worried about which heaven they might end up in. Without being explicit I sussed he meant the one for regular believers or the one for fanatics. I told him that everyone might go to where they wished when the time was right and the reception intake had fed and processed them. He turned and communicated as much to the group, which looked to be about 35 at least.
Feeling a bit overwhelmed I just assumed I could do it and threw the protective bubble around them and we shifted level to arrive at the reception area in front of the camp site as before. Again they dispersed without any word from me, as if they knew just what to do. In returning to the misty twilight of the borderland I recalled the various things I had to do and suggested that an aspect of ‘me’ would remain to continue while the physical ‘I’ aspect would go about his day. I was told that that had been happening before the ‘I’ had arrived. I chuckled and saw that it was ‘me’ talking back to ‘me’.
More Retrievals November 17th, 2023
Around 7am, I am lying in bed, moving into the awake state and recalling that my morning agenda was on the light side, I thought to move into conscious retrieval mode. I was relaxed but not quite as focused as I would have liked, and spent a few moments tossing out those random thoughts that can clutter up one’s intention.
Moving into that grey twilight area between the realms where the confused dead often find themselves, or at least find the confusion that swells their doubts and fears. Someone called to me from an abandoned ruin of a building, something like ‘Are you the one?’ I put out the thought, ‘I am one of the ones, can I help you?’ I was waved into what remained of a room to see a raggedy group of a war victims, looking very much like exhausted innocents ‘caught in the crossfire’. It would be an exaggeration to say I was seen as a saviour as I didn’t quite fit the bill for ethnic authenticity, but some played with the thought that I might be. I asked the spokesperson if they were ready to move on and he replied that they were, having already heard the rumours of escape. It was a big group, fifty I would guess, and my momentary fears of ‘could I handle it’ had to be quickly put aside so that I could do what had to be done.
I threw a bubble of protection around the group and asked for an immediate raising of vibration to be executed. Sometimes I ‘do it’ and other times I ‘ask’ and sometimes the two blend seamlessly. We appeared at the refugee intake area, set up as before, and they all walked away in a sort of dazed relief. One of the greeters nodded to me and the spokesperson turned to acknowledge my efforts, or so I thought.
Returning to the twilight ruins I soon came across a group of soldiers, immediately recognised as IDF members who had been shot or blown up in the previous few days. They were sitting around on rubble and leaning against what looked like a disabled armoured personnel carried. They were taking it easy, smoking and talking away quite animatedly. I could sense a variety of opinions on their situation and what they might do to rectify it, with some being keen to continue on somehow and some resentful about their pointless sacrifice. I could sense that some of them were the reservists who had participated in the demonstrations against Netanyahu’s proposed restructuring of the legal system, vowing to fight until he backed down. Until of course the eruption of fighting. We’re talking murmurs of discontent and resentment here and images I was ‘given’ of the demonstrations. Did I need to know? Not really but it did give me the bigger picture. This in seconds. I was asked, none too politely, what I wanted. In the tones, if not the exact words, of ‘Who the hell are you?’ I explained my mission and waited for mockery tinged distrust.
I then sensed that those who knew they were dead had not tried to convince those who still felt very much alive. It was easier to debate politics. That’s a guy thing for sure, amongst the living as well as the dead. Of course I was not there to take sides, although I sensed I might if it would help to ingratiate me with the group. That did not seem to be necessary this time around and I resorted to a more military attitude, insisting, almost ordering them to follow my lead. I threw the bubble around the nine of them, and we were off. Me asking for a culturally appropriate reception center, which of course magically appeared. Two greeters approached, one looking like a hip rabbi and the other more the streetwise hustler with a knowing grin. I got the move and thought how cool is that.
That all seemed like a good example of what goes on as ‘I’ and ‘the others’ do unconsciously what I am making conscious here. Lying abed I took a couple of minutes to memorize as many details as I might and then rose to shower. (11am. November 17th, 2023)
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