A Love Letter To Alex, On the Anniversary of His Suicide

Dear  Alex,

Today, January 27th, is the anniversary of the day I found you dead on your bed in 1988. My elderly cat has been sick, and though I love him dearly and will miss him terribly when it is his time to pass, my weeping was so intense today, and my feelings of guilt and shame so pronounced, that I knew what I was feeling had to be about earlier losses, too. Hence this letter.

It’s not the only letter I’ve written to you, by any means; for years I struggled with the persistent notion that I could have saved you from your suicide; that somehow you had killed yourself because I had failed as a partner and lover. Now, so many years, therapies, 12 Step programs, and heart-openings later, I know that your story was not my story. Had I opened the door that night at 10pm when I returned from work to find the light on under your door, I might have delayed your death, for the coroner told me you had died around midnight that night. But in the end, if death is what you wished for (and your ex-wife told me over the phone you had attempted it before, during your marriage to her), you would have found a way to hasten it. After all, a month before you died you warned me what was going to happen.

We were in the car going somewhere, you driving, me in the front passenger seat. You said, “I had a funny dream last night. I dreamed we were in a hospital room. I was lying in bed in a coma, and you were sitting on the chair next to the bed. And I knew that you were all right with my condition, because I’d told you many times that the place where I go when I do deep trance is so beautiful that some day I may not want to come back.” Maybe it was that dream (if it was a dream and not your way of hinting what was to come) that prompted me on some level to realize our time together remaining would be curtailed, for it was in mid-January that I sprung on you that surprise birthday party, where all our friends gathered, and we played a game, and you had cake, and laughed, and said, “No one has ever had a birthday party for me before.” Less than two weeks later you were dead.

My inner child has always been terrified of death. Death, in fact, is my Life Theme, the greatest truth this incarnation of mine has been learning to accept, assimilate, and adapt to. Maybe that’s one reason I was attracted to metaphysics after my rationalist upbringing and my ensuing 7 years as a Fundamentalist Christian—I sought to find evidence that the body is not all of us; that physical death is not the death of something deeper and more core in us; and that somehow Tarot, trancework, channeling and so forth would console me in ways that conventional religion failed to do. And it has helped. After my little brother Jeff, you were the greatest spiritual inspiration in my life. Your deep-trance channelings, which I (suspiciously at first, then more and more credulously) helped you attain with my guided meditations, changed my life completely. My entire spiritual world view has evolved from the talks you gave in your spirit-persona of  “Alexandra”, and I’m not the only one you helped by any means.

I can still recall clearly the sense of peace and nurture that flowed through your Alexandra persona to me and everyone else who attended our meetings in Key West, Florida, Ireland, and later Santa Fe, New Mexico, where you died. And I can recall vividly that the morning I found you, the moment I put my hand on your doorknob at 10am to rouse you for a meeting with a client we had scheduled for 11, I knew you were dead. I opened the door, saw you on the bed, and felt you and Alexandra—not the same person, but two personas—”floating” near the ceiling, witnessing me. I’ve had spiritual experiences since then, several in which I caught a glimpse of that Heaven of Light and Sound which made you so blissful whenever you tranced. But the experience I had that morning was my Lightning-Struck Tower.

Thank you for all you gave me. Thank you for my sense of your continuing presence in my life. I have loved other men since I met you, but you remain uniquely precious.

P.S. Please watch over my cat, and help me release him to the arms of Love when it comes his time to rise. •

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Blog Topics For 2015

Welcome to the New Year! I thought I’d run by you my first-ever poll on which topics you’d like to see explored on this blog during the next year. Vote for as many as you like! There’s even a space at the end for you to suggest a topic not covered above. When you’re done, just click on the VOTE button on the bottom right of the poll. Here goes….

Breathe and Release

I don’t know about you, but I find the holiday season pretty stressful. I have to remind myself all the time these days that I don’t need to be perfect in order to be acceptable to Spirit or myself. I can’t please all the people all of the time; and 5 minutes taken out of every hour to stretch and take some deep breaths can help me soften around my tension and make me 10 times more productive than if I just gritted my teeth and barreled through my days.
My brother Jeff, 1954-1990

My brother Jeff, 1954-1990

Another thing that comes up for me at the holidays is sadness over loved ones who have died or moved far away. I particularly miss my brother Jeff, who died of AIDS at age 35 in 1990. In the past I used to try to stuff such feelings with food, overspending, or overwork. Now I ask Spirit to help me relax around my grief, and let myself feel it, offering it to the Heart of Love as I weep.

And I let myself remember Jeff in the good times, when we laughed and sang Gilbert & Sullivan songs together. Remembering the good times I had with one I have lost can be very painful, too, because such memories seem to make my grief worse for a while. But this I think is an illusion. What good memories do is reconnect me with Love, which makes my heart feel safe enough to show me what it has already been feeling underneath my consciousness. Bumper Sticker Of the Day: “There is no healing without feeling.” The best is yet to come!
-Dec. 15, 2014
P.S. Looking for the perfect stocking stuffer? Click on the image below to order via PayPal a 20-minute psychic reading with Rand! Or give him a call to place your order at 505-469-9782, including the name and email or snailmail address(es) of your chosen recipient(s). When payment is received, Rand will send each recipient a gift card bearing the message of your choice. Good for New Year’s, too!

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Visions of Divine Love: An Audio Talk

Spent last Sunday morning giving a little talk at the Celebration, a spiritual congregation in Santa Fe. I told them about some spiritual experiences that I had last fall. Those of you who are interested in this sort of thing might enjoy giving my talk a listen. Of course, being a Pisces, I got choked up with emotion several times.

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On Giving Up Theology

MAJORTRUMPS.XII.TheHermitI tend to continually compare my idealized inner picture of the world as I feel it should be with the reality I perceive around me. As a result, I am usually disappointed, because physical reality has its own rules and patterns that often do not square with my idealized inner picture. In an attempt to discover and understand these rules and patterns, I have spent most of my life exploring different philosophies, religions, and lifestyles, hoping to find one that would feel like home.

The Good Boy

As a child, I thought by being “good” according to my familial value-set, I would be rewarded with the love, safety, and belonging that I craved. When that didn’t work, I asked my Dad to send me to a psychiatrist, because I felt something was wrong with me, and if I just fixed it, everything would be smooth sailing from then on. That didn’t work, either.

Bible College

My father died suddenly, and I had a psychological snapping experience: I converted to Fundamentalist Christianity. I found a community of Bible-believing Christians who were really trying to live their faith. I did my best to follow the rules, which entailed giving up sexuality, dressing conservatively, and accepting the doctrine that I was bad through and through, a sinner deserving of eternal punishment in Hell. I even went to Bible College at my pastor’s urging and with my family’s money. But in the end, I found that no matter how hard I tried, the Fundamentalist doctrinal system was not for me the doorway into the unconditional love I’d been craving. I would pray and pray and confess sinful thought after sinful thought, but I never felt the love of Christ we sang about in chapel.

Coming Out

After that, I got into looking for love big time. I lost weight and sought out other gay men. I figured as long as I stayed slim, placed enough personal ads, and had sexual encounters in which I put my partners’ sexual needs before my own, the Universe would reward me with a longterm lover. I did find a lover, Alex, and we were together for two years, working as psychics, before his sudden suicide put an end to our earthly relationship. But if truth be told, having a lover did not satisfy me either. Almost as soon as Alex and I had moved in together, I had started gaining weight again in an unconscious attempt to put a shell of protection around myself. Inside I was still convinced I was ugly, unloveable, weak, bad, and a failure at being a man. Furthermore, I had failed to save him, so I was a failure as a partner as well.

Opening To Channel

After my lover’s death, I tried to practice, and expand upon, the the spiritual system Alex had channeled. I began doing trancework myself, and gradually, as I got better at opening my heart and mind to spirit, I felt a measure of that peace I had been seeking as long as I stayed in trance. But you can’t stay in trance twenty-four hours a day and function in physical reality. When I wasn’t channeling, I still found myself miserable, lonely, and scared.

Twelve Steps

After bulking up to over 360 pounds, in 1998 I got into a Twelve Step program for compulsive overeaters. I followed that system’s rules and procedures, and worked the Twelve Steps, a series of introspective spiritual surrender exercises. Suddenly, I started for the first time sensing a Higher Power’s benign presence around me, and lost half my body weight in 2 years. So there I was, thin again, and guess what happened? Despite my spiritual progress in the program, I still felt ugly and unloveable inside. So I left my Twelve Step program, and, increasingly tormented by the fear that the Universe was just an unconscious meat machine with no Divine Love, no survival of consciousness after death of the body, and no inherent purpose, I started overeating again. I ended up regaining all but around 60 pounds of the weight I had lost.

Letting Love In

Last November, at 302 pounds, I finally gave up the idea that any single system of philosophy or psychiatry or theology or spirituality was going to save me from my internal pain. I realized, finally, on a deepest gut level, that I had been embracing systems in an attempt to gain some control over my life.  So one day I threw up my hands and said to Divine Love, “I give up my illusion of control over my life and death. I open my heart to You fully. I realize that all the love and safety I had been seeking in a constantly and inexorably changing physical reality is only found in You. Please fill me with Yourself.” Then I went about my normal business.

But a few weeks later, something unexpected happened. While leading a group of clients in a Heart Chakra meditation, I suddenly had the first of a series of spiritual experiences that left me breathless with a genuine, transformative awareness that Divine Love is real—and not only real, but unconditional, for It is complete in Itself and needs nothing from me, only seeking my good. And the Love felt familiar—it felt like home. I thought, “How could I have forgotten You’ve been there with me all this time and I never noticed?” It was that real. Again, the high did not last for more than a few months. But in the course of it I started a love relationship with another gay man. When the Divine Love high wore off, all my incest trauma crap came rushing up, and I was forced by my escalating terror to terminate the romantic aspects of my relationship with him. I thought, “How could I have been so stupid as to think my so-called Divine Love experiences were real? The atheist materialists must be right. Spiritual experiences are just brain farts with no inherent meaning.”

Love and Flesh

celloatSarajevoIt’s been several months since my breakup with my lover and my fresh cascade of self-disappointment. I’ve calmed down a bit, and have realized a few things. Just as I had tried for years to immerse myself in systems and communities so I would not feel ugly and lonely, I had been trying to stay in the high of my visions so I wouldn’t have to feel the pain that physical reality often triggers in me. I had become, in a sense, addicted to spiritual bliss. I was using spiritual bliss to numb my pain and keep me in a protective shell where nothing could touch me, exactly the way I had once used sugar. I was trying to use spiritual bliss to protect my heart chakra from pain.

I realize now that my visionary experience of Divine Love last fall was not a brain fart, or withdrawn because I am a sinner. I know that that Love still exists whether I feel it or not. And because It is Truth as well as Love, Love refuses to be used by me to close my heart to my own pain and the pain of others. Love knows that, ultimately, I am safe; and that, ultimately, I will learn to keep my heart open to It even when I feel lost and abandoned. And I do not have to learn in isolation. Divine Love is expressed not only in visions, but through people, animals, and Nature as well. Recognizing Divine Love in the world around me is now my stated goal, and my prayer.

How have you experienced Divine Love? I would like very much to hear your story. •

A Message From “The Family”: On Ghosts, Aliens, Spirit Guides and Hauntings, Part 1

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And we thank you for sharing.

On the subject of ghosts and spirits much has been written, yet Mister Rand is desirous of our thoughts on these subjects. So we share what we know of them from our perspective as conduits [to the nonphysical worlds]. From the perspective of the nonphysical self, ghosts spirits, aliens, and hauntings all derive from individual need for those experiencing them to connect to their Greater Self and the transfinite aspect of the superpersonality.

That is, a ghost for one person may meet that person’s specific need for experience; as may an alien UFO sighting or a spirit guide manifestation. So in a sense, every person’s experience of the unseen is slightly different from anyone else’s experience of it.  This is not to say that these experiences are bogus or aways generated by the fears and hopes of the experiencer. Sometimes they are, but not always, particularly in those cases when multiple experiences of very similar phenomena have been recorded by people who differ greatly from one another regarding their beliefs in the occult or the spiritual or the Woo Woo Land as some may individuals term it (<-this is a joke.) So we may organize the different experiences of spirits, boojums, fairies, pookahs, redcaps, trolls, dragons, Grey Men, demons, elves, and so forth according to which spoke on the Wheel of Creation they correspond to.

Spirits of Passion: What we may term “spirits of passion” are other-worldly beings generated by sexual frustration; that is, thought- and feeling-forms arising from the experiencer’s passionate desire to merge with a human being the way that experiencer remembers having merged with All-That-Is before birth. Such spirits may take the form of fantasy sexual figures, sex gods and goddesses from mythology, lovers the experiencer has enjoyed (or wishes s/he had enjoyed) in the past, or even animals. In many cases the experiencer is led into an Underworld by such a spirit, or appears to be; or feels the spirit physically present during sexual self=manipulation; or has a dream in which such union takes place. Such spirits are normally thought-forms, and the extent to which they appear frightening or malignant is usually a sign of the experiencer’s own attitudes towards his or her sexuality and sexuality in general, formed in part by culture and in part by molestation or sexual abuse in childhood or young adulthood. It is in fact during young adulthood that such spirits of passion are most often manifested, for this is a time of enormous outpouring of sexual energy within the nervous system and cells of humans.

Where such spirits appear to take on deviant forms, or forms that mock the accepted morality of the experiencer’s religious training or upbringing, they usually mask a desire below the consciousness of the experiencer to satisfy the feelings of the body without the guilt, shame, or moralizing associated with such feelings. This does not mean that all sexual urges should be acted upon. Some, such as pedophiliac fantasies, or rape fantasies, would if acted upon cause harm to others, and this is not acceptable if one wishes to rise above consciousness levels of Force, Threat, and Blame and embrace creative, joygiving consciousness levels of Acceptance, Understanding, Giving, Loving, and Knowing That One Already Has all that one needs. However, all such images ought to be interacted with, particularly if they are disturbing to the experiencer; and counselors can be useful for this.

Spirits of Belief: Spirits of belief are spirits that come in response to the experiencer’s desire for understanding the true values of life. Often such experiencers are religious people who are losing their faith, and so they experience visitations which seem to shore up their faith and strengthen it, according to these experiencers’ needs and symbols. Other spirits of belief come to inspire intellectual understanding by facilitating the explorer’s perceptions of connections among otherwise seemingly disconnected phenomena. So for the first spirit of belief, the spirit of faith, the experiencer might encounter a visitation by a religious figure or icon that is common within his or her belief field. In the [case of the] second spirit of belief, the experiencer might experience feeling filled with creative or philosophical certainty, as though a Greek Muse had descended upon him or her and granted him or her momentary genius. (For most people are geniuses, though they may not know it.)

Spirits of Strategy: Spirits of strategy are messengers from the past or future or an alternative present, that is, one that exists in another space-time continuum parallel to the one in which you find yourself as you read this. Some spirits of strategy take the form of the experiencer’s ancestors; others, as figures from science fiction. Other spirits of strategy have messages from the past self [or a self] in another incarnation. During past life regressions, the being is a spirit of strategy that appears at the bottom of the rainbow staircase to lead the regressee into a past life useful for him or her to know. During future-castings, a spirit of strategy may appear as a guide showing the way to a desired future, or a warner-away designed and determined to help the experiencer avoid a possible future that would not fulfill his or her desired life purpose. We call these spirits “spirits of strategy” because a strategy is a roadmap for getting from where one really is to where one really wishes to be, and once cannot devise, understand, or execute such a strategy unless one has made peace with the past.

Spirits of Harmony: Spirits of harmony are in many ways the most emotionally fulfilling of the spirits to be experienced. Angels, maternal figures, goddesses of mercy such as Kwannon, Jesus, the Shekinah–figures of mercy, compassion, forgiveness, and love often fall into this designation. Often these spirits are experienced in the Dream State, during prayer, or during meditation, but their effect is always to reassure, calm, and support peace within the heart of the experiencer. Spirits of harmony can be resisted, and when they are resisted they may take frightening forms symbolic of the experiencer’s resistance to acceptance and growth in the area represented by the symbols involved. But as soon as such frightening forms are confronted, and it is demanded, “Who are you and what do you want?”, they dissolve, revealing behind them the loving presence that was there all along.

Mister Rand experienced such a spirit of harmony one day when he was driving back from a twelve step meeting. He felt a spiritual presence around him that seemed to wish to crush him into obedience or conformation with a moral value that Mister Rand did not recognize as valid. So Mister Rand [thinking the spirit making itself known was from the Creator of All or God) cried out, “You made me a homosexual. So if you want a relationship with me, you must accept me as a homosexual, for that is what I am.” And immediately the feeling of the presence shifted to one of unconditional love and acceptance. Mister Rand had confronted his own self-rejection, and his thought form, which had been masking the true Presence of Love, dissipated.

NEXT: Spirits of Action, Support and Communication. 

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On Fear of the Dark

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I have always been afraid of the dark. When I was a boy in rural Connecticut, I used to lie awake at night, listening to our old house creak around me, watching shadows creep up the walls of my room and across the ceiling. I was afraid to go down into our cellar, where the washer, dryer, and Mother’s canned goods were kept, because there was a back room, seldom lit, that opened on a cavernous passageway so thick with darkness you could see no farther than a few yards into it.

If you have lived all your life in the city, you may not appreciate just how dark rural nights can be. Outdoors, night transformed our friendly open fields and woods into thick dense shadow, particularly when the moon was on the wane. Affable nocturnal cricket-chirp and brightly lathered starshine mitigated my outdoor night-fears somewhat, but I still feared the gaping open mouth of our barn, and watching horror movies on our black-and-white T.V. didn’t help matters. The shows that scared me were ludicrously tame by modern standards: Invaders From Mars, Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein, the British horror series Way Out, every episode of which ended in maniacal laughter. Nonetheless, afterwards, upstairs in my dark bed, I would clutch my stuffed animals and my mother’s rosary to me as though my life depended upon their protection.

Bathrooms, too, scared me at night, particularly bathrooms with the doors shut. So did bathtubs with the shower curtains drawn.

I know why, of course. In the dark, the familiar turns alien, just as when people the child depends upon for security and solace suddenly and without apparent warning show unexpectedly strange, severe, or malignant sides to their personalities. My alcoholic, emotionally disturbed mother’s sudden personality-shifts, my older brother Manfred’s sudden, sneering, verbal and physical attacks from nowhere, my parents’ unpredictable fights, all these terrors I projected onto the Enemy Out There Somewhere, unforeseeable in the dark.

I am 63 years old now, and I wish I could say I am no longer fearful of shadows. After all, I have spent a good part of my adulthood examining my own shadow material, as the psychologists call it, and I have had moments where visions of Divine Love have made all shadows flee away. But still they return. And one thing I know: I must learn to make friends with the dark if I am to someday face my inevitable death with equanimity. For as much as I preach that death is the doorway into Light, my inner child fears otherwise. And we ignore our inner children to our peril.

— Copyright 2014 Rand B. Lee.