Mister Rand has been feeling despair concerning the future of his species and the earth itself, mainly due to manmade pollution brought about by centuries of industrial greed. He observes the rioti…
Mister Rand has been feeling despair concerning the future of his species and the earth itself, mainly due to manmade pollution brought about by centuries of industrial greed. He observes the rioting and savagery of those his fellow humans who operate on the consciousness levels of To Force, To Threaten, or To Blame.”I just don’t want to be here any more,” says Mister Rand. He does not wish to live in a world where Love does not rule.
Mister Rand longed for this since he was a child. His parents, wounded by their own pain, gave what love they could, but did not keep him safe either from themselves or [two of] his siblings. And so he began to eat to cover the pain. Other sensitives in his family used alcohol for the same purpose. Many sensitives do. Instead of turning to one another for protection and consolation, they withdrew within their own hearts, decided love not only did not exist for themselves, but that Love did not exist in the world Out There as well. As we see it much of atheism is a coping response to the pain of early betrayals by those whose task was to protect, guide, and console. Much religion is such a coping response as well.
What then is the truth of things? Is Divine Love real? Are Mister Rand’s visions of Divine Love psychological pathologizing? Wish projections from a bereft spirit? This is what Mister Rand wrote last night on Facebook:
“I just came through one of the darkest days of my life, where all love and meaning seemed to drain away from everything, and all seemed hopeless. People showed me love, but I hid what was happening to me, and it didn’t begin to pass until I told 2 people the truth. No more lies. We are in a war of shadow and light, and only light and love can win it. God give me the strength to face my shadow with light fueled by love.”
May all those in despair find the door to Love. And we thank you for sharing. •
—Channeled November 25, 2016
Divine Love has not abandoned us.
Despite Trump’s win, despite the triumph of the Shadow, we can survive this together.
We can band together on a local level, work on a local level, to help one another, whatever happens next.
There are small miracles on the way. Look for them. Expect them. Invite Spirit to work through your voice, your hands, your heart, your goodness, your intelligence, your kindness, your many, many talents to bring hope to your corner of the world.
Miracles can happen still. They are happening even as you read this. They are happening in you and around you: miracles of love, of compassion, of kindness, of goodness.
Divine Love has not abandoned you.
You ain’t seen nothin’ yet!
Nothing in physical reality maintains its form forever. This includes the shape of spacetime itself, if “shape” can be used to refer to a nonphysical, nontemporal probability construct in which the phenomena of energy and matter can form regular recurring patterns. Therefore degradation, delapidation, denigration, and devastation can seem stronger forces than those of re-emergence, recurrence, innovation, renewal, and resurrection. But “Death”, one of the Tarot’s Major Trumps cards, signifies not just endings, but the beginnings that spring from the endings. So a persistent, invasive terror of death, which at times in his life Mister Rand himself has felt, can actually hide a deeper terror: a terror of rebirth.
Stephen Levine, in his book, Who Dies?, observes that in his experience working with hospice patients, the persons who have been the most fearful of living are those who tend to be the most fearful of dying. For much of his life, Mister Rand has attempted to maintain a sometimes precarious existence on the borderlands of consensus reality—i.e., on the sidelines of life. This is because his early childhood experiences had taught him to expect that it was safest to be invisible. So he never developed the skills requisite for a thriving social life, and greatly feared intimacy, for the most nurturing person in Mister Rand’s childhood had also been one of the most abusive. Consequently, Mister Rand did not easily trust intimacy, as witness the fact that Mister Rand had only one romantic partner, the late Stuart “Alex” Lucker, who died two years into their relationship.
Since that time things have changed for Mister Rand. During his years in Santa Fe, attending a Twelve Step group for persons with eating disorders, he has learned to trust many of the persons he has met in his meetings, and some of them have become friends. In addition, his psychic work, and his … involvement with The Celebration, a leaderless Santa Fe spiritual group, has enriched his social life in ways he could only have dreamed of when he was younger and more frightened.
We say these things not to embarrass Mister Rand, nor to solicit pity for him, but to illustrate the limitations of fear-based thinking when considering all the richness of possibility that physical reality has to offer.
In your Bible it says of the story of redemption, “These things the angels themselves desire to look into.” While in the original the Bible writers intended this sentence as a reference to the concept that Jesus of Nazareth was the Messiah or Savior of the world, we submit that it can also be employed to refer to physical reality itself—that unbodied spirits long to directly experience for themselves what life in physical reality is like.
What does physical reality have to offer that the nonphysical realities do not? This is an important question, because in your theologies, “Heaven”—being a reference to not only the intangible “afterlife” but also to the sky above your heads—is considered superior to “Earth”, the physical plane in all its manifestations. Yet there are some experiences only available in physical reality, and it is these experiences that the angels desire to look into. Some of these experiences include sensory experiences of light, sound, color, music, scent, texture, movement, and temperature; the pleasures of creativity through art; the pleasure of patient guided unfolding of a possibility as it changes into a reality; and the expansion of understanding triggered by incarnational experiences such as birth, sickness, romance, reproduction, child rearing, freedom fighting, [observing and interacting in love with animals, plants, and insects], and the recovery from illness. The experience of the passage of time itself is an experience that can only be enjoyed and benefitted from by those in physical reality.
In looking over our list, Mister Rand asks (. . .), “But is the joy that physical reality affords us worth the suffering it also affords us? What of the millions suffering unspeakable pain? How can smelling a flower offset the sheer weight of their dismay?” The answer, of course, is that a person dying of AIDS in a back alley needs consolation, water, food, medications, and supportive social interactions, not just the smelling of a flower. And since the hands of God are the hands of Mister Rand and those other spirits who have taken on flesh, seeking God’s will for assessing what help to give the dying person is the responsibility of Mister Rand and his acquaintances. For the joy of helping to relieve another’s suffering is another experience that only physical reality (and thought reality, its close sibling) can provide.
In the nonphysical realities, there is no sense of separation between Self and Other. Individuation does exist in the nonphysical, but it is individuation seen and felt always in its context of All-That-Is. In physical reality, where consciousness often appears limited to, or framed by, the brain organ, physical and emotional separation are regularly experienceable. So opportunities to reveal these separations as the illusions they are at core are precious, and if taken with care and awareness, yield exquisite experiential results.
So there is, in our opinion, a case to be made that Heaven is not superior to Earth; they are two sides of the same coin, different but equal. And Divine Love is present throughout both realities. Call upon It today to make Its presence known to you in your life as you really are just at this moment, and keep on calling upon it until you become aware of the answer. And we thank you for sharing today. •
— Channeled by Rand Lee, 11/2/16, 3:11:16 AM
I’ve spent most of my sixty-five years of life looking for a person, doctrine, or organization that I could build my life around. I started out looking to my parents to fulfill this role. I found early on that I could depend upon my father to provide us with shelter, clothing, food, and the luxuries of upper middle class Anglo life, but that he was largely unavailable emotionally and could not protect me from my abusive older brother. My mother I found I could depend upon to provide me with delicious meals, delightful books, affection, and consolation, except when her alcoholism and borderline personality disorder symptoms turned her manipulative, vindictive, and sexually abusive.
For years I felt torn between the two of them, and my ambivalence took an odd turn.
Mother put pressure on me to choose her over my father, which—let’s be frank—it wasn’t hard to do, given his loud, gritted-teeth complaints, self-isolation, and demands for absolute obedience. But I liked the fact that he was a writer, and I think I sensed his self-loathing, and I identified with him more than I liked to admit at the time. Now in the bedroom they shared, my father slept on the left side of the bed, my mother on the right. So at night I felt torn. If I slept on the left side of my bed, would I be symbolically choosing my father over my mother? If I slept on the right side of my bed, would I be symbolically choosing my mother over my father? So I compromised: I taught myself to sleep flat on my back, a habit I tend to follow to this day.
Once I entered adolescence, I more or less gave up trying to find refuge in my parents’ world and I sought refuge in my private dream world of comic books, science fiction, fantasy, mythology, and chaste fantasies of joining Robin Hood’s band of Merry Men, or being adopted as innocent school mascot by my brother Anthony’s Air Force Academy classmates. When I became aware of my homosexuality, I began fantasizing about finding a Mister Right, the perfect man who, in exchange for my exclusive devotion and access to my body, would console, protect, and give shape and direction to the rest of my life.
The problem was that, owing to incest trauma, I felt sex was dirty—not just homosexuality, but all sex. I got this feeling from my mother. So I decided that I did not want to be sexual at all. After my father’s sudden death in early 1971, I sought out the sexuality-free surrogate family I’d always fantasized about: I became a celibate Fundamentalist Christian for seven years.
The people with whom I worshiped were good people, genuinely trying to live by Jesus’s teachings of love and forgiveness. Although my self-betrayal ate away at me, the love and acceptance they showed me had a healing effect on me. They gave me a refuge from the storm of my life. But in the end I left the church, and Fundamentalism, in large part because I felt I had been putting on an act. Though I was indeed celibate for most of the seven years I was with them, I now know the difference between celibacy, born of lifestyle conviction, and sexual anorexia born of abuse trauma. And I was not the only one who left. Several years ago I discovered that the pastor of the last church I attended had been gay, and had committed suicide because he had not been able to reconcile his faith with his physicality.
All this took place many decades ago. Today, at 65 years old, five feet seven inches tall, and 290 pounds, I am far from healed; I like to joke that I have more issues than National Geographic. But I have a renewed faith in Divine Love, from Whose womb I was born and to Whose womb I shall return, and for Whom my homosexuality is a natural species variation, not a monstrosity or a curse worthy of damnation. And I have been fortunate in meeting numerous fellow travelers, straight, gay, in between, and undecided, whose kindness has consistently reached out to me in dark times.
So if you are tempted to give up who you are to get love, don’t give in to that temptation. Start asking for help, and keep on asking until you start getting it. It can and does get better, but only if you refuse to let your abusers win. •
[On January 27, 1988, I walked into my love Stuart’s bedroom and found him dead on the bed. He and I had been lovers for only 2 years. We worked as psychics together in Key West, Florida and Santa Fe, New Mexico; we met originally when he came to me seeking Louise Hay-type guided meditations for boosting his immune system. One day, during such a meditation (which he claimed did indeed make him feel better), Stuart manifested a feminine information source he called “Alexandra” whose calm, understated manner was a stark contrast to his Aries exuberance.
[About a month before he died, Stuart—who was suffering from AIDS symptoms at a time before the current, longevity promoting, AIDS “cocktail” of meds had been developed— told me that he had dreamed he was in a coma in hospital, and that I was sitting beside his bed. He said that in the dream, I understood that it was so beautiful where he went when he was in deep trance, that someday he would not come back from there, and that I was OK with it. When I found his body that morning in 1988, I realized then that his account of his “dream” had been his way of letting me know he was planning to kill himself with a heavy injection of painkiller that he had been hoarding since his job as a med tech at Key West Island Hospital.
[The following channeling discusses my experiences regarding Stuart since his passing. -RL]
When Mister Rand first walked into the room where he found his lover’s body, he had no sooner set eyes upon Stuart’s prone form than he felt, floating somewhere near the ceiling on the lefthand side of the bedroom, two energies or consciousnesses. One of the consciousnesses was in fact that of Stuart, Rand’s lover; the other, that of the so-called “channeled entity” that 2 years previously had, at its first appearance, announced its name as “Alexandra”.
Now “Alexandra” was the feminine persona of the channeler, Stuart. In a sense, Mister Rand feels she is still present in his life; at other times she seems a very distant memory. Stuart himself feels to Mister Rand even more distant. Mister Rand’s younger brother, Jeffrey Robert Lee, died in 1990 from AIDS; his consciousness, by contrast with Stuart’s, seems much more present in Mister Rand’s life, particularly when Mister Rand is channeling or doing psychic readings for clients.
Why do some dead feel more present to us than others? The answers in part depend upon our ultimate view of reality. An atheist-materialist-ethicist [might] say that the memories of the dead, not the dead themselves, are present with us in direct proportion to how willing we have been to release those relationships and move on to new ones in physical reality—in other words, the more emotionally attached you are to the memory of your dead friend or relative, the more present they will seem to be. By contrast, a spiritualist might say that some dead feel more present to us than others because some of our dead have been willing to “move on”—detach from identification with their former self, former life, and former acquaintances (us)—and others of our dead have not.
We see the situation as possessing elements of both explanations. Let us say that Mister Yiffniff dies. At first, depending upon his spiritual practises in the life just ended, Yiffniff [may be] a bit disoriented; he may even feel that his death is a mistake, that he has so much “unfinished business” to attend to before he is ready to depart fully. Other, less conflicted individuals, may be ready to “move on” immediately—may be even glad that they have died, for now, if they wish, they can take on a new physical form in a new place or position in spacetime. Still other beloved dead may select to remain focused in our physical plane in order to keep watch over the physically living—to act, in a sense, as spirit guides to those whom they have loved and still do love. Mister Jeffrey, Mister Rand’s baby brother, is just such a one—committed, as it were, to stay by Mister Rand’s side until it is time for them to become balls of joyous light together. Each case is different, however, and must be evaluated as objectively as possible by the psychic researcher. •
I am a spiritualist, not a materialist, so in my experience spontaneous psychic insights occur in direct proportion to how alert I am to subtle signals or hunches, and to how willing I am for Spirit/HigherPower/God/Invisible Sky Friend/Goddess/Great Mystery/Divine Love to use me to help people I encounter during my day. Last year I was standing in line at a grocery store when I noticed a young man serving as bagger next to the checkout station. Immediately I saw and felt an image of a plane around him, a plane that he was piloting. There was nothing about his clothing or demeanor that would have suggested piloting experience. So I casually asked him, “Do you have any interest in flying airplanes?” He gave me a look of surprise and said, “It’s been my dream for a long while to be an airplane pilot.”
David J. Hand, a professional statistician, says in his book, The Improbability Principle,that the underlying nature of physical reality mandates frequent appearance of seemingly miraculous coincidences. He does not believe in psychic ability or a spiritual reality; he would say my experience with the young would-be flier was an intrinsically meaningless coincidence. I disagree. I believe that the young man and I showed up at the precise moment in time and space for a purpose; that I was meant to plant a seed of encouragement in that young man’s imagination in order to nudge him a bit closer to his heart’s desires.
When I read Tarot cards or do trance for a client in my psychic business, they come to me with a question or questions, and I use the tool of the Tarot to seek patterns in their probable futures that might be useful for them to know about. So I guess this is a kind of “exercising my psychic ability as a muscle.” But even with Tarot readings, alertness, relaxation, and openness to the experience is necessary for any insights to occur; and I can screw up a reading big time if I try to control how the reading turns out.
Can psychic “muscle” defeat and lift a curse? To answer this question it’s vital to understand that there is no evil power in curses. Their only power is psychological. Curses are only effective if the person cursed believes in them, because when I believe something very bad is going to happen to me, my fear often gets so great it muddles my thinking, and I can bring about the very thing I’m afraid will happen.
Having said this, if you can’t get the notion of the curse out of your head, there is a ritual some of my clients have said works for them. (Rituals are useful psychological tools that work even if you don’t believe in them.) When you are about to go to bed at night, put a bowl or cup of water in each corner of your bedroom. Put one drop of an essential oil you like into the cup, such as sage oil (rescue), lavender oil (cleansing), rosemary oil (Divine Mother), or oil of jasmine or ylang-ylang (consoles and melts away fear). You can buy oils like these, or any other that appeals to you, at most health food stores. Then go to bed. Lying in bed, pray a prayer like this one: “Lion father, protect me; wolf mother, watch over me; Mother of Love, melt away my fear and keep all shadow from my door.” The next morning, pour the water out of the bowls onto the ground outside or down the toilet.
Repeat this ritual every night for a month, and by the end of the month (and sometimes long before) my clients tell me their fear has left them.
But remember: there is no curse that has any power over you except the one you give it. •