Date: 98-02-21

by David Wilcock

Harry's breath was fast and hoarse. He had a headache that was like a drill boring into his temples. He ran as fast as he had ever run before. No! He ran even faster. His heart was beating like a jackhammer. He was lost in a bizarre-looking factory. He was being chased. Where could he go? How could he possibly escape this terrible pursuer? He couldn't remember how he had gotten here. His breath came out in harsh gasps. He felt every muscle scream out in protest. His chest burned like a hot iron, an anvil pressing into it. He looked around, trying to find a way out, but he could see nothing. Stacks of boxes. Steam. Long, metallic walls stretching far up. Strange-looking pipes of different sizes. Sweat was dripping down his face. Into his eyes. He ran faster still. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a large, mechanical-looking device, mounted on a pedestal. Smeary image, but familiar. Something common, like some thing he had seen before, large, mechanical, something like...

(an engine, his inner voice quietly informed him)

He ran towards the large, strange - looking object, with its brightly shining chrome and curious, spiraling pipes and ripples. There had to be something else nearby, a full vehicle, if he was now seeing this. Something. He could get out if he had a vehicle. Outrun the bastard that was chasing him. What could he do? He ran past the engine, leaving his hopes along with it. He could hear the fierce sounds of running footsteps behind him. He could tell the difference between his own sound and that of
his pursuer.

Clak- clak- clak- clak, went his feet. Behind him there was another sound. Chok - chok - chok - chok. It sounded familiar, like a horse zooming past at a race. Like the sounds of hooves. The thought made him run with even more persistence. Hooves. Like a terrible beast chasing behind him.

(beast, you’ve definitely got that right, run, if you know what’s good for you)

What kind of beast was this? It had the same fast, persuasive, two step rhythmic sounds as him. That means (two feet, two hooves, two horns?)

(some kind of beast)

(the beast, there’s a devil of an idea, running from the beast, running from the devil)

The sudden realization of the nature of his pursuer made him feel suddenly lightheaded. He looked ahead of himself, but spots of his image were blacking out, as if some robotic electrician had gotten into his mind and had started pulling fuses. His body pitched forward and his hands shot out. His feet faltered, and he barely caught himself, desperately trying to keep on running. His brain surged, knowing that he was doomed to fail. Running to stay alive. Running. Running hard - his breath hoarse, chest screaming, legs tearing apart. Breathing heavily, receiving no air. Running like a tiny mouse, hotly pursued by the ferocious cat.

He looked down the corridor. It ended about thirty yards ahead of him. Veered off to the left. His brain was stinging. He was drenched with sweat. The corridor, turning left not ten yards now, was clearly in sight. He was running as hard as he could. His mind raced with panic. He felt his legs beginning to give. Corner. Turn the corner and try to keep...

WHAM! Dead stop. Clenched. Motion ceased. He felt his arms being grappled on both sides with the strength of a vise. All he could see was red. Red, like a smooth velvet sheet spread over rounded boulders. Boulders contorted like muscle. Red skin. Muscular chest. Right in front of his face. Grabbed. No longer running. Locked into a grip by terrible, strong hands. Claws on the hands. Claws digging into his skin. He started screaming, a sound that pierced through the dreadful laughter that he couldn’t even hear. It was over. He was caught. Life in hell, dragged down into the terrible abyss.

He jerked awake, with a shout, his heart beating furiously. Cold sweat. He frantically looked around, still thinking he was on the run, and realized that he was in his room; it was only a dream. As he desired to return to feeling normal again, he quickly realized that the terrible reality that had become his life was still unchanged. He was, in a sense, stuck between dimensions. The physical world now eemed to be made up of rippling, hazy patterns of energy, and his perceptions seemed to have become considerably heightened.

His thoughts raced at a speed unimaginable in the past, and just to look at one familiar object around the house would trigger a million different analysis at lightning speed; how it was built, where it was built, what materials were used, what the most common uses of it would be, what value it would have to others were he to trade it, what colors he could paint it to make it look differently, what would happen to it were he to throw it out the window and smash it on the ground. The tiniest noise was greatly amplified to a roar, and bright colors were so strong and distinct that they would hurt his eyes to look at them. His body felt like a spiraling, flowing column of energy, and there were even times where he briefly saw his hands or arms becoming transparent. He tried as hard as he could to dismiss these experiences, but no matter what he did, they simply would not cease. He was strongly fearing for his sanity.

Furthermore, in the midst of his new world, he realized that he was by no means alone. He could easily perceive many different luminescent beings that seemed to exist all around him, yet were invisible to others. Many of these beings were malevolent and demonic, and he had no idea how to get rid of them. They seemed to be watching him, taunting him, well aware of his new predicament and of the fact that he could see them. He was unnerved by their presence and longed for a way to make them invisible again.

He had taken two weeks off from work before all of this had started, and now his vacation had expired, and he would have to re-enter the real world, just as he was. He honestly didn’t know whether he would be able to do it. He was able to collect his thoughts enough to regain stability and appear to be normal around others, as he had learned that he could slow his mind down to a certain degree if he tried. Yet, all the information and visions continued to spiral and flow around him, and the world was teeming with entities.

He laughed to himself in desperation at the amazing problem that he imminently faced. How could he have known that if his wish was granted, it would become such terror? These questions had been plaguing him like a disease. Why couldn’t he have wished for something better? A billion dollars. Fame. Anything. Ten more wishes! If he could only go back to that miraculous day again, and somehow change what had happened. Though it was but a few short weeks ago, it seemed like an eternity. The picture hung vividly in his mind as he again thought back to it.

On a warm spring day, he had received a phone call from his old college buddy Ray, who had just returned from several years of graduate level anthropology fieldwork in Mexico. Harry was entranced to hear that Ray had discovered a bizarre, brain - shaped cactus that apparently had very powerful psychedelic qualities, and had been used by a small indigenous band of shamans, or medicine men, that he had been working with. Many years ago, the cacti had appeared overnight in a large, blackened crater that appeared in the desert sands, and several members of the tribe had seen a bright light plummeting to earth the night before. Though the cacti had long ago been safetly hidden away and cultivated, Ray had earned the honor of being given one of the sacred plants, through his deep involvement with the tribesmen. He had somehow managed to smuggle it through customs and bring it back to America.

The shamans had warned Ray that the cactus was very powerful, and should only be taken by those of strong will. Harry, eager to try new things, was delighted that Ray had offered to serve as his guide to embark on this adventure. The initial idea was that they would take turns, one person staying focused and sober in order to guide the experience of the other. Soon after the sharp-tasting juice had hit Harry’s tongue, he had an experience that, for some reason, no one else had ever gone through when
using the sacred plant. He found himself floating out of his body, and he had entered some sort of grey area. To his great surprise, a being of Light had appeared, and it had identified itself as the wish-giver. He was asked what he wanted more than anything else in the world. Of course, the typical things entered into his mind, such as money and wealth, but that wasn’t enough. More than anything else, he wanted true knowledge, which would then give him something rarely, if ever, attained by anyone
else on the planet. In his undying curiosity, he asked that he become conscious of all reality, both physical and spiritual.

He had good reason to do so. The problems and paradoxes of things like the UFO phenomenon, ghosts, psychic phenomena and the paranormal had become almost a daily obsession for him over the years, and he ached for the answers. There was just so much out there that he knew he did not understand, and his heart burned for it. Obviously, somebody knew all about it, and he wanted to be that somebody. It seemed to be the ultimate idea; no matter what the government was hiding, no matter what the mystery, he could see through to its core. How could he have ever possibly known what to expect? Couldn't he see the signs earlier? How could he have possibly known exactly what reality was?

He bit at the nail on his index finger. He could already hear the shuffling noises of the spirits. He must have aroused them with all of his screaming from the dream. He stared up at the ceiling. His life had gotten so maddeningly complicated; nothing worked according to tradition anymore. He couldn’t take reality for granted; it was like he was an alien in his own body.

He could hardly stand it. He was beginning to break down. His dreams were so much worse...he had to sleep, to escape the world, but he would only enter a new one, where anything could happen and he could expect nightmares of the most hideously cruel kinds. As he stared at the ceiling, embedded in his own thoughts, the curious spiral patterns of stucco began to flow, spin around, and change shape. Bizarre image fluctuations such as this were one of his first observations after acquiring the damnable ability. Nothing was really a solid object. The plane of existence that he used to live on was such a shallow one. Solid objects could be trusted as solid, and they wouldn’t move or disappear, as was all too common now.

He sat up, and the bedsprings creaked under him. A figure that was peering out from behind his closet door whisked out of sight. “I'll never be safe now,” he thought to himself.

He stood up and stretched, noticing that the peculiar egg-shaped aura of light surrounding his body was glowing differently than its usual light, healthy color. There was a sinister flood of swirling darkness around his stomach. He was wildly hungry.

As he picked his pants up off the floor, a small creature vaulted off of them and ran out of sight.

“GOD DAMN YOU!” he shouted. Well he thought to himself, God already has. For all that exists which is good, there is evil; for every yin, there will always be a yang. Who could tell how many people’s lives were secretly tormented by these little gremlins? They were so curious - almost too curious. And they were seemingly everywhere.

Putting on his shirt, he noticed one of the little dogfaced atrocities peering at him from behind a shelf. Enraged, he picked up a baseball lying on the floor and hurled it at the little beast. All he could hear was a high-pitched snickering that pricked up the hackles on the back of his neck.

He put a hand to his forehead. He thought to himself, “Why did I ever want to know what reality was?” He was almost sure there was no turning back. Although only two weeks had gone by since his visions first started, it seemed more like years, perhaps centuries. The past two weeks were like a dismal nightmare that he couldn't wake up or hide from.

He had a career to manage, people to talk to, and responsibility. The actual importance of all these things was beginning to dwindle. Just keeping sane around other people was becoming enough of a problem for him. The thought of going back to work gripped him with fear. He had been doing
his best to keep afloat, but he felt like his life was closing in on him on all sides.

He buckled his belt. Taking a deep breath, he began walk to his bathroom. He opened up his bedroom door. On first day, this was when he truly felt psychotic.

He slowly closed the bedroom door, making sure that he was quiet. Gingerly, he let the bolt slide back home into the door frame. He wasn't about to attract attention.

He shot a quick glance down the hall. There it was, halfway down the hall on the left, that leafy monstrosity. It was a big plant, one that he had been taken care of daily for several years. He looked at the pretty, multi-colored aura that surrounded it with slight awe. He would never have known before that plants were so alive.

“Hi, Harry,” the plant said. “How are you this morning?”

“Oh, fine, I'm just fine,” he said.

“Is that so? Come on, now, Harry, you can’t fool me. I can tell that you are definitely being troubled by something. What's on your mind?”

“These damn plants know so much,” he thought to himself.

“Well, we don’t know everything,” the plant said, “but if you had to sit in one place all your life doing nothing, you’d become pretty interested in the people you lived with too.”

“I hear ya, but I'm not used to counting a plant as a ‘person I live with.’ You never used to say anything!”

“At least now you're lucky enough to be able to talk with someone who has known you for many years. That's more than you can say for most of your friends.”

“Yeah, I guess you’ve got a point there,” Harry said.

“So come on, now, Harry, something is plaguing your thoughts. You’ll feel better if you can get it off your chest. What’s been bothering you?”

“Well,” Harry said, “I guess you’re right. I actually am upset. I can't handle this world anymore. Everything about my life before these last few weeks seemed so much easier to get through. Even if I was loaded with work, or struggling with a deadline, it couldn’t match up to the minute-by-minute struggle that I have to fight now just to stay sane-looking.”

“Yes, I imagine that in your case that could prove to be quite difficult,” the plant said. “What exactly has been causing you so much grief?”

“There’s just too damn many of these negative, obnoxious life forms on this world. I can't seem to go anywhere without seeing demons and hearing things talking to me or talking amongst themselves. I used to think that the forest was quiet...but now it seems that I can never truly be alone

“Well, that doesn’t mean you should have a negative response,” the plant said. “There’s always something around to talk to, and I would think that should be a great comfort, as you can no longer suffer in the prison of your own private thoughts.”

“If the loneliness was all it was, I would be all right,” Harry said, not really listening to the plant’s point. “But the real problem is the company itself! I’m so caught up in the spirit world, I can hardly make any time to talk to real people! Every time I see the negative ones, I feel like they’re watching me, plotting against me or something. Who knows what the little buggers could do if they banded together?”

“Well,” the plant said, “the truth is that in the spirit world, there is always a balance that can be reached between good and evil. You should concentrate more on the good spirits than the evil ones. We are here for you, and we can guide you through your troubles.”

“Thank you,” Harry said. “Look, I do like to talk, but I have to get ready for work. I think I must have been still dreaming when my alarm went off. It was like I was trapped inside my own mind. I don’t know which is worse...being awake or dreaming! I can hardly tell the difference now. That's what’s so damn scary. I really thought with all my soul that I was going to be dragged down into hell this morning. And then I wake up to find that I barely have enough time to shower and leave!”

“Yeah, I can imagine how that type of thing can torment you. You’d better get going if you want to make it. Just remember that someone’s always there to talk to you who can help you. You should never try to weather your experiences all alone. That’s when other, more powerful things can come breezing in. Just watch it, kid. Go take your shower.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, “I'll see you later.” He gripped the white knob and entered the bathroom, still fearful of the almost impossible experience that had happened so recently to him.

Harry listened to the swishing sound of him brushing his teeth. He stared blankly into the black paper that he had taped onto the bathroom mirror out of sheer terror. This was one of his most frightening problems: it seemed that mirrors were some sort of gateway into an entirely different universe, sometimes called the 'Beyond', where what few physical laws he could still grasp on Earth did not seem to apply at all. From what he could gather, the Beyond was a dark place, entirely made up of pulsating blue energy. Though the physical world was still visible, all the objects would appear to be nothing more than shadow projections. It seemed that when these entities traveled in his own world, it was rather slow and laborious, but on the other side of the mirror, they could get around quite

He often wondered about what he might see or experience over there, and he was scared to death of it. He was already powerfully affected by what he saw just within his own space, and he somehow knew that not even those rules applied in the 'Beyond'. Anything living in any dimension could be reached through this gateway, and to enter the earth and become visible to him, interdimensional spirits needed only find a large enough mirror. Even the surfaces of puddles and lakes could be used if the skin was calm and undisturbed. Now that he could see them and could no longer doubt that they were real, he was petrified at the thought of being near one of these portals, as he was well aware that in his new body, they could apprehend him if he were not careful.

He felt a chill rolling onto his nerves. It was only a week ago that he had made the discovery, there in the bathroom as he was brushing his teeth. He had been watching the strange energetic ripples he could now see over his face as he scrubbed away, and he tipped his head down to spit out the thick, minty foam. When he brought it back up, he almost choked on the remaining toothpaste, as there in the mirror, standing directly behind him, was the flat image of a jet-black hooded figure that seemed to curve inward around its edges. He could make out nothing except the outline, but what was so frightening was that it was as if the form itself was some sort of vortex in space and time that threatened to suck him into it.

He felt as though the ground itself had dropped out from under him, and instinctively his hands gripped for the side of the sink, the toothbrush uselessly flying off to the right. Spit and foam vaulted off of his lips as he spun around to face the vortex, and nothing was there, nothing except a curious pressure and a feeling of cold air. Slightly relaxing, he turned back around to face the mirror, only to find that the same figure was still there. Adrenaline kicked into high gear, his nerves zapping with electric fire, and his heart strained under the pressure, feeling very heavy as his mind was abruptly pulled far away, time slowing down to an eternity.

Considering that it was a glass mirror, in desperation he instinctively tried to punch the image and close the doorway; the condition of his fist afterwards would matter little to him, as long as he destroyed the horrible menace. With great force, he drew back and threw the punch. His adrenaline turned to a dizzying, stomach-churning nausea as his arm plunged deeply into the mirror, without breaking it, all the way up to the shoulder. To his shock, it behaved as though it were nothing more than a thin membrane leading in to something else. He desperately tried to free his hand, and an ice so cold that it burned seemed to be drawing him in further and further in sharp tugs, at times bringing him in almost up to his neck. He trembled uncontrollably as tears streamed out of his traumatized face, and he cried pathetically, like a young child, with a surprisingly high pitch. The harder he cried, struggled and fought, the deeper he got sucked in, and he desperately positioned his foot next to the mirror to stop himself from entering it.

Without warning, his screaming noise suddenly stopped for a split second, and in the fleeting gap, an image appeared in his mind, nothing more than a sudden flash. He couldn’t quite make it out, but it was very bright light. It appeared to be in the form of a tall, luminescent man wearing a robe. His screaming noise came back loudly, seemingly uninterrupted as he struggled and cried with the fearsome vortex, and then suddenly, the halting flash came again. Then again. And again. Each time, it was a little bit longer, the image slightly clearer. In desperation, he tried to focus on this, as this apparition seemed curiously calm about the whole thing that was happening to him. As he honed in on the image, a part of him seemed to be transported there, and a voice appeared in his mind.

“Send love to him, send love with all your might, and he cannot hurt you.”

Quickened by the possibility of a solution, he felt a deep power surging within him. Somehow, the robed being was apparently guiding him through this. Through a profound inner knowing, he could feel that all the love he had ever experienced was building together to a critical mass, and as this force welled up inside of him, the chaotic struggle faded into the background, his physical body still tossing and turning. He was cool and crystal blue as the power welled up, deeper, deeper, more and more powerfully, soaring upward, until it threatened to expand him beyond his own limits. He tried to assemble the energy into a single point in his forehead, and then with a great shout, he blasted it directly into the image.

Instantaneously, the room filled with a blinding white light, and the gripping pressure was suddenly released. His body was tossed wildly back from the sheer force of the effort he had been making. He spun back, unable to grab onto anything, and landed on top of his laundry basket, smacking into it with a hearty thump. It really hurt his back to land there, but that was the last thing on his mind. He had to get the hell out of there, and that's exactly what he did. Stumbling backwards, he ran out of the
bathroom screaming.

This frightening event had given him a very strong fear of mirrors. He wondered what would have happened and where he would have gone if he had been dragged in by the fearsome image. This paranoia had caused him to tape up all his mirrors with a black cloth, so nothing could come after him. Everything seemed to be fine when the mirror was actually covered - he could put his hand on the surface and it wouldn’t go through.

Despite the warmth of his shower, Harry could not help but feel paranoid from his bad memories. He had almost blocked out the being, and the solution that it gave, clinging instead to the sheer carnal fear of any further attack. He had no idea whether the “love” trick would work again, or whether the force would be there to assist when he needed it. In short, he didn’t trust the experience. So many new and shattering things were becoming known to him that he could hardly organize them into any logical framework. His response was raw, unrelenting paranoia.

He combed his hair and shaved his face, staring into the black fibers of the thick cloth and imagining what his face would look like in the mirror. He had gotten pretty good at doing all of his bathroom-type of stuff by feel, but he couldn’t help nicking himself now and then with the razor. It was important to him to keep on shaving in the midst of all of this; his hygiene was part of what kept him feeling that he wasn’t insane. When he got all finished rinsing off and drying his hair, he put on his clothes and headed downstairs. As he descended, for a second he thought he could see bizarre patterns and maps in the dark lines of the carpeting. They looked clear, but he could make no sense out of them.

“Well, if this is reality, I guess I’ve still got a lot left to learn,” he said.

“Yes,” an unseen voice replied, “you sure do.”

He jumped at the sound of the voice. It was the ghost who shared the house with him, named John. John had lived in Harry's house for thirteen years, before he died of a sudden heart attack. It was said that he had gotten to smelling rather funky afterwards, because he had lived alone and was found by the meter maid several days after his death. Unfortunately, his death was an incomplete one, in that he left unfinished business on Earth. Because he could not detach himself from his material world, he had
remained in his old house, existing as a spirit. It certainly had freaked him out to walk around his house like everything was fine, then go into the room where his body was slowly decaying and observe his remains.

John had gained the power to move about in other dimensions, but this was in no way a complete attainment of spiritual advancement. He was not yet able to achieve cosmic consciousness, that point where a spirit has learned enough to achieve the gift of merging with the One, spreading out evenly among the entire universe and its parallel neighbors, becoming conscious of everything there is to know, and having an active role in the creation of entire new dimensions. So, he tried as best he could to enjoy himself, always looking for a way out, so he could achieve freedom. He silently knew that Harry was the way out, and in a sense, it frustrated him.

Harry tried not to show his sudden rush of fear when the ghost spoke to him. “Hey, John,” he said. It had taken Harry a while to be able to deal with John. He had never been around a ghost before, and his initial reactions were of sheer terror. He had been able to deal with the situation pretty well, though, for he had realized that the ghost was essentially a pretty cool guy who was simply at a different stage in his spiritual development from Harry’s.

“So, Harry, how are you holding up?” John asked.

“Well, I guess I'm alright, besides the fact that I’m starving to death.”

“Come on now,” John said to him. “Something’s going on. I saw how jumpy you were when I said hello to you just now.”

“Well, I guess you could say that this whole thing is really freaking me out,” Harry said. “I mean, it’s so much more than I ever thought I’d have to put up with. Everything seems to be falling in on me from all sides, and there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop it.”

This statement caused John to think deeply as he and Harry walked into the kitchen. As Harry reached for the breakfast cereal drawer, John began to speak again. “I dont know if you’re really all that powerless,” he started. “You know, every person is the charioteer of their own vehicle of
destiny. You can do anything you want to do if you just believe in yourself. I only wish I had learned my lesson while there was still time. It’s not all that hard to be successful in life - you merely have to believe in your own strength, and you have to have the willpower and determination to succeed.”

Harry had pulled out a cereal bowl and a spoon from his cabinets and drawers. The cereal box was open, and he began pouring it into the bowl. He looked into John’s eyes with such fascination that he didn’t even notice that the Rice Chex were spilling onto the table.

“Hey, watch yourself,” John said. Harry looked down and realized what he had been doing.

“Oh, shit!” Harry shouted.

“Relax, it’s only cereal,” John said. “You’ve gotta stop being so worried about everything. Just dump the cereal into the bowl. Try to remember that you were imbued with incredible abilities at the same time that you were weakened by what you saw. You can make things work out the way you want them to. Just think about it - you have an ability that no other living human on Earth possesses, as far as you know. If you start using it to your advantage, the results could be fabulous. I think you should just abandon your fears and come through the mirror with me. I guarantee that you will see people and places that are more fascinating than anything you could have ever imagined.”

“Come on now, I said I’m not ready for that. Stop trying to pressure me, man! If I feel ready, maybe someday I'll do it. It’s just far too outrageous for me to even think about it right now. I have no idea what to expect. Isn’t that where all the lower-level creatures live?”

As John began speaking again, Harry set in to hungrily devouring his breakfast cereal. His mind raged with his good old late-to-work paranoid feeling, and in a sense, being paranoid about something concretely physical was a great relief. “Don’t worry about those creatures. Usually they don’t have any beef with me. If they do, I know how to handle it. You see, our spirits are considerably higher than theirs in the Great Chain of Being, with God on top and Satan on the bottom. That means that we can jump from dimension to dimension much quicker than they can. We can literally outrun them through various levels of time and space.”

Harry exclaimed, with his mouth full, the following: “Well, that’s great for you, but what about me? If that appariton had dragged me into the mirror, there’s no guarantee that my soul wouldn’t have become anything more than power food now.”

“Don’t worry about it,” John said. “I can teach you how to travel through dimensions.” Harry chewed greedily, his teeth gnashing the crunchy Chex as he stared at John with intense awe. “You simply have to learn what to say, and remember the names and image forms of the different dimensions. Once you know those simple things, it is easy to do what you want. You have been imbued with nearly godlike abilities, in a sense, and all you do is spend all your time sitting around and sulking.”

That touched off a nerve. “What the hell do you know?” Harry shouted, with small droplets of milk and cereal shooting out of his lips, eyes widening. The spoon clattered into the bowl as he made a sweeping gesture with both hands. “You have no concept of how much all this has bothered me! I had no idea that these powers could be so frightening or intense. Plus, I feel like I’m constantly being ursued by demons, and that isn’t exactly conducive to a happy personality,” he added, with a sarcastic grin.

“I guess I see your point,” John said. “It is going to take some adjustment to get you to the point where you are comfortable. And you will not be alone in this; you’re just doing it a little earlier than everyone else. All human beings have the capability to do things that they could only dream of in their regular lives. It’s only through “modernization” that we lost all of these ancient spiritual teachings. The audacity of your scientists, to think that you only have access to ten percent of your brain! The cactus you took provided one way for you to open the floodgates, and now your entire brain talks to itself in your conscious perceptions, and recognizes those other levels of vibration surrounding it. You could have done all of this without the plant, but it would probably have taken several years of dedicated effort to get there. At least, that is, until the vortex opens.”

“What vortex?”

“Well, you see, Harry, we are heading into a time where these experiences are going to have to be handled by all of your people, whether they are ready or not. For you to go through all of this now is a blessing in disguise, for it is much easier to overcome your fears when the world around you is still largely stable. This vortex I speak of is a window in the dimensions that is partially caused by a cycle in your Sun. It would take me a long time to explain it to you, but I could try someday, if you want. Let’s just say for now that you are a front - runner to the most fantastic experience in the history of your planet. Most other people would require tremendous effort at this point to get the same results that you are now experiencing.”

“Sounds like I took a hell of a shortcut,” Harry said, exhaling deeply, his tense muscles starting to relax.

“No doubt,” John replied. “Where most people only use a very small amount of these natural abilities, you now have access to almost all of them. That gives you an incredible advantage. In time, you’ll discover how fascinating it really is.”

“I'm sure not very fascinated now,” Harry said as he finished the last few Chex that were floating on top of the milk. “My life is fucking hell, and besides that, I’m beyond late! What time is it?”

“It’s almost eight,” John replied.

“Holy shit, I've gotta move,” Harry replied. He took his bowl over to the sink and dumped his milk down the drain. John spoke from behind. “Aren’t you going to save any for our furry friends? I've even seen one around here that looks like a cat. Think about it - we could take ‘em in as pets.”

“Very funny,” Harry said as he put his dishes into the dishwasher. “That’s about the last thing I want. Fuck the little bastards.”

“Come on now, you’ve got to at least try to accept them,” John said. “If they sense your fear, they may report you back to their commander, which could attract even more attention. Then we’d really have a battle on our hands.”

“I don’t know,” Harry said as he closed up the cereal box. He picked his keys up off of the table. “I’m not going to waste my time worrying about it. The situation is bad enough as it is.”

“That’s true, but still you have to try not to show fear. You really need to start taking my suggestions seriously, as there are a lot of different entities vying for your attention here.”

“What a nice thought,” Harry exclaimed. “It’s bad enough that I see all the little ones - now you’re telling me that this is only the tip of the iceberg. What should I do if I see something really big?”

“Just pretend that you don’t see him, and he probably won’t notice you,” John said.

“What if he does notice me?” Harry cried, genuinely concerned.

“Then pray,” John said, “and send me a mental message of your dilemma. I’ll send help your way as fast as I can.”

“Well, that’s reassuring,” Harry said. He thought back to the experience in the bathroom for a brief moment, picked up the cereal box and began opening the cabinet. As it opened and the light shined within, two small, furry creatures ran off. They had been linked together in a suggestive way, possibly sexual. It was too much for Harry. He smashed the cereal box back in place, screaming, “Fuck you all! This is my house! I hate you bastards!” He slammed the cabinet door closed, and it bounced against the wall and flew open again.

“Come on, come on, relax,” John said. “You allow them to do this to you. Just ignore them.”

“Yeah, you’re right, my mother used to say the same thing about bullies. It was always a lot harder to actually ignore them, compared to what she made it sound like.”

“Well, you’ve got to try; you make things a lot more difficult this way.”

“Yeah, great,” Harry said. “Look, I’ve got to get to work now, or I could lose my job. They’re not paying me to chill out at home.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Get your ass out the door!”

“All right, later,” Harry said. He slammed the cabinet shut and headed for the door. “Take it easy.”

“You should take your own advice,” John replied.

“Wiseass,” Harry mumbled as he opened the door and began walking out.

“I love you too, Harry. Have a good day at work, and try to stay focused. With your new abilities, you are going to have to remain very focused in order not to tip them off that something about you is different.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said. “All I can do is my best.”

“That’s quite a hell of a lot, especially once we really get rolling here.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I am right. Now get going.”

Harry walked out the door, and the invigorating feeling of freedom again belonged to John. Harry’s return to work would finally allow John a good amount of time to open up one of the cloth - covered mirrors and go fool around in different dimensions. It had been far too long already.

“I think I’ll go snag a copy of the 5D Weekly,” John jokingly thought to himself, and smiled. In reality, it wasn’t a newspaper at all, and as he hadn’t been there in a little over two Earth weeks, it wasn’t really weekly, either, but he still liked to play around with Earth terminology. He walked in to the living room. “He’s a nice guy, but he is very frustrating entity to work with,” John thought to himself. “And he is still totally unaware that I am assigned to him, and of what our true mission is here. When the time is right, I will hopefully begin showing him around and take him through the mirror. He’s still got a hell of a long way to go.”

He continued as he walked through the house. “It’s too bad that he can’t use his powers for good things. There’s so much that he could do, if he would only accept his fate wholeheartedly rather than fight against it. Why does it always seem like some of the worst personal problems are among
the easiest to solve? The demons can’t really do much more to him than if they were squirrels or rabbits. I just wish there was some way I could show him what he’s really capable of doing for himself. Oh well, at least I can use the powers constructively, and with the proper timing, I must
teach him to do the same.”

John walked into the living room. There, in the center of the room, was a large, vertical slab of dark cloth that hid one of the most majestic mirrors in the entire house. It stood regally there on the wall, as if the mirror itself knew what it was capable of and was very proud of that fact. John stepped up to the mirror and carefully began removing the layer of electrical tape, starting at the top left. He slowly peeled it down until he had exposed a good three - quarters of the entire surface.

“I hope Harry doesn’t come back,” John thought to himself. “He would flip out if he knew that I was lowering his protective shield of paranoia over the mirror. Besides, I don’t think we’re about to inherit any wandering nasties.”

John curiously admired his reflection. There was an interesting background to it, as it looked like he was staring through a two-way mirror at a store and could almost see the office on the other side. He grabbed the sides of the mirror frame, and stepped onto the hassock underneath the mirror. He put his other foot up into the mirror, planting it firmly on the bottom of the frame. With a sudden, thrusting motion he propelled himself head - first through the mirror. He vaulted off of the frame with his foot to insure that he would get all the way through.

His body flew through the portal, and he entered the 'Beyond'. Everything was identical in shape, but there was a dreadful absence of light. A hazy, iridescent form of blue energy flowed around all natural objects, and since there was a lot of wooden paneling and furniture in the house, you could see your way around pretty well, as it all glowed. Vision was slightly altered in this realm, and everything had a blurry, indistinct fog surrounding it.

John landed feet-first on the carpeted floor, kicking up the dust that was only rarely taken care of. He looked around with a definite level of respect, for there was a great deal of usable energy surrounding this place that he could tap into. He could already feel himself lightening, and the longer he did so, the more difficult it would be to return. He began to walk out of the room he had landed in, which was on the opposite side of the wall from where the mirror was mounted.

As he headed towards the doorway leading into the kitchen, he decided to experiment with a strange phenomenon that was a characteristic of 'Negative Land'. He had done it hundreds of times before, but it still interested him greatly. He walked through the archway of his old den, and headed into the kitchen. As he went towards the doorway leading into the living room, he nearly bumped his leg into the side of a table that was sticking out. He laughed. He was such a stickler for tradition...even though he was a spirit, he would only rarely go through solid objects. It simply was not his style.

“Ah, what the hell,” he said with a smile on his face.

He took a few steps back, and suddenly broke into a tearing sprint, heading straight for the table. With a crazy leap, he jumped over the table and plunged through the wall feet-first. He misjudged the jump, and he ended up landing flat on his tailbone in the living room.

“I’m glad that I’m in spirit form,” he thought to himself. “Regular people would be crippled for days after a landing like that.” He got up and dusted off his butt. In the Beyond, matter was not as solid as it was in the regular Earthen dimension. All energy fields existed very close to each othe r there, which made it very easy to warp from dimension to dimension. One only needed to know the names and shapes of the dimensions, and a thousand universes would be yours to explore.

He found it interesting that the mirrors themselves had a very interesting property out in the Beyond. If they were not covered by dark paper such as Harry had done, they showed up as an eerie, slate - gray color. They reflected the light from the other side in a bizarre, hazy glow that looked like a reflection off of the surface of a lake. Despite the color variations, the overall appearance was like a giant slab of marble. The simple act of visualizing where he chose to go would direct him to the appropriate mirror or surface, and the dim reflections would give him a fuzzy idea of what he would be going into. To step through the mirror was to slow down, to deaden, to thicken. Harry didn’t realize this, but it was quite difficult for him to spend so much time around him, as the 'Beyond' was his natural habitat. There was quite a bit about him that Harry did not yet understand, and would not be able to know until much later.

Thinking on all these things, John walked up to the mirror, where minutes before his reflection had been staring at him. A smile turned up at the sides of his mouth as he pushed his hands into the mirror. It still appeared a little shocking to him to have his arms appear as stubs at the wrist. He pulled his hands out of the mirror and stood on one foot. He pushed the other foot into the mirror. “AAAHH- MY LEG!” he screamed, laughing heartily. “It’s time to stop horsing around. I’ve got to get the paper,” he exclaimed. Though it was by no means a newspaper, he had gotten accustomed to the Earth vernacular over time, and he liked the sound of it.

He took a deep breath and prepared to say the words. He was well aware that in order to travel like this, all he was really doing was raising his vibrational level to a different frequency. The actual “space” that he traveled to could very well be in the same physical, coordinate location; the difference was, he was now aware that he could hold a certain specific focus, which would allow him to perceive a certain dimension in the midst of all the others. In order to jump from one place to another, all he had
to do was think of it, and he would arrive there. He chose to verbalize his requests in order to avoid confusing and at times upsetting jaunts into other pockets of reality that he had no desire in visiting. Though he could usually find his way out fairly easily, it still was not something that he could say he enjoyed.

He began the words. “Dimension Zaladriel, sector ZQX - 33. Transport.”

He felt the familiar pressure as he whipped through a dimensional wormhole at incredible speed, arriving at his new destination. The area that he went to was the surface of a planet that existed in what would be the fifth dimension to Earth scientists. Despite the higher level of vibration, inhabitants there still had a form of a body, and it was remarkably humanoid in appearance. The only thing was, their abilities were far beyond that of humans. The body’s composition was far more akin to that of pure light than most humans could ever dream of, and they had an ability to instantaneously manifest any object through the force of thought alone. Plus, they were able to tap into the collective memory banks of the Creation, and pull out any necessary information. And that was just the tip of the iceberg; John knew that it would take Harry quite some time to get a grip on all of this new information.

The actual planet itself would have been most unsuitable for a physical human body, possessing large quantities of argon, sulfur, and ammonia gases. It orbited a typical binary sun, which caused rather interesting patterns from the surface of the planet. In far distant times in the past, the inhabitants had worshipped and made sacrifices whenever the two suns would cross each other’s paths, which was about once a year. They had long since evolved past such barbarism, having now ascended two full spiritual levels higher than that. It was fully millions of subjective years in the past, though time had long since lost any meaning to them.

In a sense, John felt a longing to return here, as this was his true home. The story about him dying in Harry’s house was true; he had, in fact, incarnated as a human, which was by no means difficult, as all souls throughout the universe were of the One, and composed of the same intelligent energy. Immediately after his death, he recalled his abilities and his connection to Harry. He made the decision himself to stick around on Earth; no one else did it for him. He was well aware that he had volunteered to help Harry through this especially difficult phase of his life, as many new and wonderful things would be happening to him, and he was still at the stage of shock, horror and disbelief.

John knew that his persistence would pay off. He had learned that Harry had also come from the same double-star system as he did; that he was, in fact, a long-lost brother. He had to wait until the right time to reveal this to Harry, as if Harry fully remembered who he was, he would very quickly lose interest in staying on Earth if not properly trained. John had to avoid that at all costs. One glimpse of his true home at the wrong time could spell certain disaster. John had to play his cards delicately,
carefully plotting out the schedule for the different revelations to be given.

Here at home, John found peace. He would check back from time to time to see how the other projects that his people were involved with were progressing. There were some major efforts going on in terms of bio -forming a new world, and as they could step outside of the framework of
linear time, they could monitor the long - range effects of their progress as they went along. Several of John’s friends were actively involved in designing the thoughtform templates for the various species that would inhabit this new planet, and their mission was an interesting one. They had to design a world to meet equal specifications to Earth. There would soon be a time where they might just need it, with the opening of the 25,000 - year vortex in the Earth system. Their work was now nearly complete.

There were some other interesting things going on that were being handled by various smaller committees. All of their brothers who had volunteered to incarnate as unknowing humans on Earth had at least one or two entities on the outside act as their guide and mentor, keeping them spiritually connected to their home planet, while they went through their punishing Earth experiences. The teams were designed to program events in the human lifetime, using whatever subtle means they had at their disposal, in order to try to keep the errant human in line with the higher principles of Love and of Light. There were special committees designed solely for dream planning, and periodically they would insert one of their own creations into the normal dream patterns, with the hope that the person would at least remember something from it, and catch a glimmer of whom they really were.

The job was far from easy, as it required a great deal of energy to slow oneself down enough to enter into the Earthen world. John’s ability to do so for prolonged periods was only because of how recently he had incarnated there. Though he very much wanted to be able to go back to his home on a
regular level, he knew that to do so would be to make the process of re-entering Earth as excruciating as getting “the bends”, as though trying to surface too quickly from the deep sea of the spirit world to the harsh, polluting atmosphere of Earth. Thus, he could only take these jaunts home for a short time, and there was an additional challenge presented with the fact that Harry was steadfastly blocking off the mirrors, his gateway. He maintained his vigilance, and would not easily be defeated.

Through thought alone, John appeared in the council room, an area where his cohorts would gather to discuss the latest progress on a variety of fronts. He knew they would be eager to hear what he had to “say,” as a great breakthrough had occurred in the life of Harry; he just didn’t realize its value. Harry was still drawn up in the trials and tribulations of it all.

The rounded council room had very high ceilings, and there were no sharp corners to be seen whatsoever. The room itself was bathed in a warm luminescent glow that seemed to emanate from everywhere, and it was rather like a dome in shape. In the middle of the room, where the light was most
strongly focused, was a crystal-white table where his robed brethren were seated. As they sensed his sudden dimensional shift and entrance, they rose to greet him. No spoken words would ever be exchanged, as they had evolved far past such primitive methods.

They sent the first thoughtform to him. It was the image of his face, a sense of a long stretch or duration of time, followed by a happy emotional energy. Loosely translated into English, it read, “John! It’s been a long time. We are very happy to see you.”

John replied instantaneously. Relief emotions. Images of light and Love. Then, the image of Harry on Earth, followed immediately by the image of his true face, and then an image of an animated bar graph that was increasing in level, followed by an emotion of rapid change, loosely felt as a swooping motion in the body. Translated, it might have read, “Believe me, I’m happy to see you guys, too. I greet you in the presence of the Once Creator. As you are aware, Harry, or Ska - re - ta, has been greatly increasing in his abilities in our “hospital” at a very rapid speed.”

The council replied with the image of a typical wormhole portal into Earth that they would use for viewing, which showed a bird’s eye view from about twenty feet above of John and Harry interacting, and if visible to those on Earth, would have looked like a small sphere of light. Four examples then flashed by of times where John had helped him, and each one was imbued with the tremendous appreciation that Harry felt, which felt to them like a rising current of joyful energy. Then, an image of Harry embracing John and feeling the need for guidance from him, which took the image of luminescent strands emerging from Harry’s aura and drawing energy from John, with a background emotion of sorrow. “Your efforts in helping John have had wonderful effects in making him feel more at ease on the planet. He is counting on you for strength in these difficult times.”

Still standing in the same position, John sent an image of himself crouched in a chair, holding his hand to his forehead in frustration and perplexment. He then streamed a rapid - fire burst of six clearly different images of probable futures that he had tried to steer Harry into, such as the speedier acceptance of the smaller beings and of himself, and successively faded each image into grey, following it with a heavy feeling that weighed the body down. “I’ve been thinking quite a bit about this, and doing everything that I can. I have tried to provide him with several different alternatives that would make his life much easier to deal with, and he allows them to disappear without a second thought. It gets very difficult at times.”

The council responded with an image of John’s face, and then of a stream of ten fleeting images of other, more unfortunate probable realities, had John not interceded and helped as he had already done. They followed this with the image of a man shrugging his shoulders and holding his hands out to the side, followed by an image of Harry slowly climbing a flight of stairs. “But you see, John, many other things could have happened that would have been far worse, had you not come in to help him. So what can you do? Either way, he is still climbing ahead, even if it is slow.”

The dance of thoughtforms continued along, resulting in an alive, active dialogue that invoked images, emotions and feelings in the body. This was the lexicon used throughout the entire universe, a method of communication that superceded all needs for speech and / or languages. There was very
little room for doubt when a communication was made, which made it much easier for them to understand each other. To them, these symbols, pictures, emotions and feelings were nearly ten times faster in terms of communication speed than the human mind could ever hope to calculate in English, as it was far quicker and more accurate than the mouth could ever form the crude words. The conversation, now directly translated here, progressed.

“I’ve been doing so much for him, and it can be very distressing,” John sent.

The reply was quick and positive. “You need to be aware of the good that you are doing for him. Remember that his progress, which to us seems to be so repetitive and slow, is actually quite good for someone trapped in the third density vibration. We know that you will succeed in bringing him
back to full awareness.”

The light in John’s body flickered and dimmed. “I know, but it is very difficult; I feel very drained at times.”

The Council gave an image of a blinding white light and an overwhelming feeling of Love. “Remember, John, remember the One. This is part of what we must do in order to return. Go forth, then, and train the boy.”

The intensity of John’s lightbody grew. “You’re right. I can’t give up on him; his development is crucial to our further successes. We can see the different probabilities that he has of reawakening now, and they are many in number.”

“And growing anew each day, as per your efforts.”

“That is true. What does the Council suggest for further action at this time?”

John knew that with this question, the normal speedy response would not be there. The entities moved close together into a perfect circle, and began humming in unison, harmonizing in musical tones and glowing brightly, going into a deep state of trance awareness used in order to answer such
questions. A rippling, undulating column of brilliant energy spiralled up from their circle into the sky. They were, in fact, contacting levels even more advanced than they were, levels which they relied upon for guidance before taking any final action. After several moments, they began to return to their normal color, the circle again drifted apart, and the humming ceased.

“The One has spoken,” they flashed him. “It seems that Ska-re-ta has an even more important mission than we realized. A powerful learning tool is about to be given to you. You are to approach the One at your next rest period, and your further instructions will be given at that time.”

John’s energy field wavered. “What further instructions? What do you mean by a more important mission? Fill me in, guys!”

“He is supposed to help many people. He is being trained to go and speak these truths to others. He must fully assimilate as much of our knowledge as we can give him, and in so doing open up the universal communication protocols that we use here. In short, he is to be a messenger for the
Council. As we are all aware, the time before the dimensional vortex allows the harvest of Souls from his density grows exceedingly close. He must tell the others that this Ascension / harvest is possible. The One has mandated that this be done by providing a voice for us, that we may speak, through him, directly to his brethren.”

“What does all this have to do with my own training?” John quickly imaged, with an inquisitive, lilting energy.

“That you are to find out yourself, in the near future.”

John became aware that he was having a very difficult time maintaining his presence in the room. This translated as, “My connection here is growing thin; I must take my leave of you.”

They both then extended the universal closing thoughtform, a beautiful image of light with an overwhelming emotion of Oneness. “Peace be with you in the Light of Everlasting Love.” - John

by David Wilcock

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