Dealing with Negative Thought-Forms

According to the levels of reality system originally channeled by my late partner, Stuart “Alex” Lucker, “Thought Reality”—sometimes referred to as the “astral plane” or the “plane of Mind”—is the sum total of all conscious minds. Anything that anybody has ever thought, is thinking right now, or will be thinking 10 minutes, 10 days, 10 weeks, 10 months, 10 years, 10 centuries, 10 millennia from now, all these minds meet and color one another in Thought Reality.

We’re not talking just profound, enlightened, fascinating, beautiful, ennobling  minds here. We’re talking shallow, resentful, boring, ugly, destructive minds, too. If you’re the sort of person who happens to be psychically sensitive to the Thought Reality plane of existence, you can feel bombarded at times by feelings, thoughts, and mental impressions that did not originate in your own brain.

Such overwhelm is particularly prevalent in these modern times. Through most of human history, people were unable to read or write. Furthermore, we had contact with those outside our local group only occasionally—as late as the 19th century, many living in rural communities seldom traveled far from their birthplaces, to the point where, at some places in England, people from one village could not understand the dialect of people from a village 20 miles away. (When I was a boy in the Fifties and Sixties, there was an illiterate woman in Roxbury, my local Connecticut village, who had never been to the larger town of New Milford, 11 miles away. When asked why, she’d replied that she had thought of going there, but really hadn’t seen the need.)

In rural days humans got our sense of the world outside through reports from occasional travelers, rumor, tradition, folktales, and the teachings of local religious leaders. All that began to change when the growth of cities brought different populations in close contact with one another, and when literacy began to grow beyond the boundaries of monasteries and convents into (what we would now call) secular society. And in the centuries since, the advent of schools, trains, newspapers, motor vehicles, radio, the telephone, television, cell phones, and the Internet have opened millions of us—sensitives and non-sensitives alike— to the thoughts and feelings of others in a way that would have been thought impossible even a hundred years ago.

How do we protect ourselves from Thought Reality overwhelm? Various suggestions include:

  1. Relaxing: Feet flat on the floor, take a slow breath in and a slow exhale. Breathing normally, mentally go up your body from the soles of your feet to the top of your head, noticing any area that feels tense or agitated. Breathe in again, and as you exhale start relaxing your muscles starting with the top of your head and proceeding down to the soles of your feet. As you progressively relax, imagine an invisible, lightweight, force barrier is forming around you from the top down. It lets in light, air, sensory information, and love, but keeps out all negative thought-forms, no matter how loud or scary.
  2. Confronting: Sometimes a particularly disturbing thought-form will leap into my consciousness. When this happens, instead of fleeing it or shoving it under the surface (which ultimately makes such thought forms stronger), I imagine myself turning and facing it. In my mind I say, in a strong, demanding voice, “Who are you really? And what do you really want?” Then, whether it replies or not, I choose either to imagine a gigantic spirit-animal (such as an elephant) stomping the thought-form flat; or I imagine a flood of Divine Love pouring down upon it, absorbing it into Itself.
  3. Writing: Sometimes it helps me to sit down with a pen and paper and write down everything the negative thought-form is saying to me or showing me. I can even draw a picture of the thought-form if I want to. the act of writing down the thought-form begins to separate myself from it, and robs it of power.
  4. Change the Channel: TV, radio, and the Internet bombard us 24 hours a day with frightening imagery and information. When I consider turning off the negative thought-form spewing TV, radio, computer, or iPhone—or switching over to a more positive channel on those devices, such as the Good News Network— I get voices that say things like, “Coward! Real grown-ups don’t deny the evil in the world!”, or, “If you don’t listen to our warnings, how will you protect yourself and your loved ones when the disaster strikes?” Change the channel anyway. If the thought-form persists, see #2 above. 

What techniques have you found assist you in repelling or disempowering negative thought-forms? Let me know and I’ll print them here! •

Focusing on this image can help me to dissolve the power of negative thought forms

A Message from “The Family”: A Threefold Approach to Fear Mitigation

Mister Rand has been experiencing a great deal of anxiety concerning the fate of gay half-Jewish psychics like himself under the present political system. While to an observer this may seem a dread unlikely to be fulfilled due to the specificity of its parameters, Mister Rand’s fears are generated not by reason but by memory:

  • Mister Rand’s memory of his secular Jewish father’s dread of antisemitic persecution;
  • Mister Rand’s memory of persecution at the hands of his abused and abusive older brother;
  • A memory of the sense of Otherness which caused Mister Rand to hang back from full involvement with life from an early age; and
  • The memory of other incarnations to which he is linked on a spirit and soul level.

mercy

The multidimensionality of persistent, fearful life outlook cannot be ignored without sometimes severe repercussions in the life of the fearful one. In our observations of human existence, it appears to us that the best approach to take for clearing the soul of such limitations is an approach that employs physical, psychological, and perceptual tools in more or less equal measure.

Physical, because the neuromuscular systems bear their own memories of pain inflicted upon them in the sometimes deep past, pain that can respond well to empathic bodywork, tension-relieving exercise, dietary changes, deep breathing, progressive relaxation, sexual play, and certain medications;

Psychological, because even the most rational humans, contemptuous or dismissive of such notions as Inner Child, Inner Parent, and intergenerational trauma transmission, can respond positively to mental fear-mitigation practices such as therapeutic mentorship, mindfulness training, support group involvement, and journaling; 

Perceptual, because the way one views reality can have stress-relieving, stress-inducing, or numbing effects on the sufferer, depending upon the world-view adopted.

(Mister Rand is somewhat embarrassed by our discussing his vulnerabilities so publicly. We remind him, however, that he has complete control of what we say and how it is disseminated. We further remind him that, as his neglect of this blog has allowed his followers and their “hits” to dwindle to almost nothing, it is highly unlikely that what he writes here will spread like wildfire across public media.)

Next Time:  Fear mitigation exercise #1 — Identifying the fears that rule you.

A Message From “The Family”: On the Loss of One’s Youth

Mister Rand is often overwhelmed by feelings of loss, particularly the loss of his brother, Jeff, to AIDS when Jeff was 35 years old. Losing his body is also a concern for Mister Rand. He is now 67 years old, and weighs 268 pounds, with osteoarthritis and pinched nerves causing pain in lower back, right side, ankles, and knees, particularly upon rising or attempting to walk. Although his heart is healthy, a genetic inheritance from his motherline, Mister Rand can no longer do the many physical things he enjoyed doing before the accident that triggered his pain. So Mister Rand grieves the loss of that capable, strong body, in part because now he must ask for help to accomplish things that he used to be able to do himself, and he was taught by his family and broadcast culture that men must be independent and self-reliant or they are weaklings worthy of despisement.

Why do bodies change over time? They change over time because, in physical reality, everything changes eventually, from galaxies on down to the paramecia in your digestive tract. Bodies can be thought of as conscious meat machines. All machines wear out or break down with long use or poor use, even if they have been regularly examined and treated for their conditions. Eventually, every machine needs to be replaced with a new one, including the machine of the human body.

In your advertisements, the photographs are always of fit, goodlooking people. In America, these people are usually Caucasian, and dressed in the style of the upper economic classes. Even in magazines devoted to older populations, the photographs are of the fit and beautiful, because there are products or services the advertisers in these magazines wish to promote, and they have found that pictures of real-looking people—people with wrinkles, or too much fat, or other divergences from the model community from which the advertisers draw their actors—do not attract readers to the products or services the advertisers wish to sell to them.

The problem with this ubiquitous image-saturation is that it trains readers to think of youth and fitness as the human norm, a snapshot of core humanness, with the result that humans who no longer possess these qualities frequently develop loathing for their bodies. And that loathing can lead to sometimes fatal self-neglect.

The reason why humans can be led to obsess about the youthful and fit is [partly] biological: the body has built into it by evolution a passion to join sexually with another, fertile body capable of engendering progeny.  [What physical attributes humans find most attractive vary from culture to culture.] A worldwide cultural study that Mister Rand read about found that there are only two things all cultures tend to find most attractive in men and women: in men, shoulders wider than waists, and in women, hips wider than waists, both evidences of genetic fertility. Attraction to breast size and penis size—hallmarks of American porn—are culturally based, not biologically based. So is the idealization of large buttocks found in some African cultures, and the attraction to small feet [found] in certain Asian cultures.

How does one deal with the grief one feels at the loss of one’s youthfulness? One first acknowledges it, taking a serious look at one’s physical capabilities as they truly are, not as one wishes they were. Then one asks questions of appropriate persons, questions [firstly] aimed at achieving understanding of the physical changes that have taken place; and secondly, questions aimed at achieving understanding of which changes can be ameliorated by changes in eating and exercise habits and which probably cannot. Next, one makes the decision to treat one’s body with the loving respect it deserves as the noble workhorse it has been since one was born into it. “Would I treat a beloved pet, or a beloved child, the way I treat my body?” is a question Mister Rand has found useful to ask, for he has found that often he expresses anger towards his body in passive neglect or active abuse of it.

Physical reality can be a place of pain, emotional and physical. Learning to live in physical reality necessitates accepting that one cannot thrive in spacetime all on one’s own.  So grief over the loss of one’s youthful bodily capabilities necessitates sharing one’s grief with others who can empathize without judgment. Sometimes these are genetic relatives; more often, in Western culture, these are friends, support groups, or counselors. But one must become willing to feel, and support is essential to dealing with the feelings that arise. •

— Channeled Dec. 19, 2017.

 

 

 

A Message From “The Family”: Why Psychic Readings Fail

When Mister Rand first began psychic work, it was because he sought specialness and meaning for his life. In college, he was very shy, and hung back from socializing, preferring the company of one or two friends, his books, and fantasies of finding the perfect mate. He was twenty years old.

In a bookshop he discovered the first Tarot deck he had ever seen, The Aquarian Tarot, an art nouveau deck of limited trance-inducing usefulness [for him] but of considerable graphic beauty. To the friends and girlfriends of dormitory acquaintances, Mister Rand gave readings for free, and he was surprised by the positive reactions he got from those he read for. “I assumed they were remembering the things that applied to them and forgetting all the many other things that didn’t,” Mister Rand says. He had no belief in a spiritual reality or in psychic ability.

We speak of these things now because, forty-six years later, Mister Rand is still pulled from one belief system to another. His many years of experience as a consulting intuitive have given him evidence after evidence that, while much of what passes for psychic accuracy can be attributed to (1) common sense, (2) conscious or unconscious body language and voice tone reading, or (3) accident, a significant percentage of each reading contains elements that cannot be easily attributed to chance. Why, then, do so many critics of the psychic process declare that no evidence exists for psychic ability or a spiritual reality?

We find it amusing that we are discussing this, given that, as “The Family,” we embody various information gathering vectors, most of them located in Mister Rand’s unconscious.

From our viewpoint, the human mind is a doorway into a multidimensional reality connected to probability lines; other selves in other lives; and the consciousnesses of animals, plants, and the Earth itself. The Greater Self of the individual human creates a reality in which that individual human can experience spacetime directly rather than via detached observation. And part of the experience of spacetime is a narrowing of focus in which the individual human’s awareness of the nonphysical retreats from waking consciousness. This is necessary because only in physical reality and thought reality can pain exist. Therefore the individual’s consciousness must be equipped to notice spacetime opportunities for nurturance and safety, so that pain is kept if possible to a minimum.

The great challenge, therefore, for an incarnated consciousness, is to keep enough of a focus on spacetime conditions and events that the physicalized body and mind can survive and thrive the various challenges that physical reality affords, while simultaneously develop and maintain enough of an awareness of, and access to, the nonphysical realities that hope, consolation, wonder, and Divine Love may serve as tools and framing mechanisms for the individual’s spacetime experiences.

As your quantum physicists are discovering, atomic particles and processes, when observed by a human consciousness, behave differently than when they are observed by a mechanism. On the macrocosmic level, this process manifests for psychics as a shifting variability of successful psychic insight conditional upon not only the skill and detachment of the psychic reader, but also upon the willingness of the experimenter or scientific observer to allow for an expansion of his or her belief systems. In other words, Mister Rand cannot read anyone who, consciously or unconsciously, does not wish the experiment to succeed, either because of intellectual bias; a fear of being penetrated and violated by another’s consciousness; a fear of the information the reader comes up with; or emotional prejudice against “New Age” practices.

Mister Rand says to us, “Do you mean to claim that all experimenters and scientific observers participating in unsuccessful psychic experiments are biased against objective results?” We do not claim this. For there is another vector involved in failed attempts to read a subject, and that is the reader’s fear of those he or she is reading for. Mister Rand has found that if he is afraid of possible negative repercussions of participating in a reading, his fear will shut down the objective detachment necessary for a reading to succeed.

Mister Rand has experienced public humiliation as a result of a reading experiment before an audience containing significant numbers of individuals hostile to the reality of psychic abilities, and the shock of finding he could not pick up any information from those in the audience nearly caused  him to quit his psychic work entirely.

Sexual attraction to the one being read can also block a successful reading. •

Channeled November 4, 2017 by Rand B. Lee

A Message From “The Family”: Seasons of the Soul

There are many seasons in the soul. Some are fresh and green; others, old and brittle; others, a rampage of hungers and searches for satiation. When one is caught up in a wash of internal seasonal weather, one can feel cast adrift, out of control, spinning into unknown waters.

At such times, Knowers—those for whom reality is best perceived [and dealt with] via spiritual, religious, intellectual, or scientific practices—often seek to stand back from their [emotional] experiences, observing them [from a distance], whether in meditation or scientific study. Other Knowers may seek to avoid getting in touch with their internal experiences [at all], sometimes even going so far as to insist that humans have no internal consciousness; that consciousness is an illusion manufactured by the chemical factory of the brain.

Consciousness deniers frequently seek solace in their intellectual constructs, which reduce the world to biological process, and treat emotions as no more meaningful than sparks emerging from a car battery, mechanical problems that distract from the broad tasks of pattern assessment and phenomena analysis.

There are Doers, [those for whom reality is best perceived as a series of practical problems to be solved or tasks to be accomplished], who also treat internal experience as unworthy of contemplation, unless they can see its practical applications for survival, task completion, and biological needs gratification. “Of what use is a feeling unless it triggers action of some kind?” these Doers may think. So for them, Love is not real  unless it is expressed in giving another objects of value, enjoyable shared [physical] experiences sexual and otherwise, and enhancement of physical and economic stability and power.

For Feelers, reality is what is experienced internally, and Love is an internal sensation of longing, belonging, and consolation. What to Knowers is a pattern of understanding and identification with the Other, and to Doers is a relationship useful for creating mutual external experience, to Feelers [is what fills the emptiness they feel at their core].

–Channeled October 14-21, 2017

 

Fools rush in where angels fear to tread

Rand_holding_light     I’ve worked as a psychic in Santa Fe and nationwide for many years. Around 20 years ago I was invited to attend a local skeptics conference. I was interested because I had long thought intuition and reason are both crucial to a balanced understanding of psychophysical phenomena, and I had been yearning to find a group that honestly and without bias investigated paranormal claims, experiences, and practices. To me a “skeptic” was an honest seeker of truth, in contrast to a “debunker,” an ideologue whose mind had already been made up, and whose purpose was to reveal as fake or erroneous a practitioner and his or her practices.
     When I arrived at the conference I sat with my host in the audience. The leader of the conference, a distinguished looking academic type, called the meeting to order and introduced me as the guest speaker. I politely informed him that I had not been told I was the guest speaker; I thought I had been invited as just another attender and observer. I noticed that he had on his table a compilation of fliers and other literature I had posted on bulletin boards around town to advertise my workshops and services; there had clearly been planning involved in the event.
     The conference leader acted confused and surprised that I had not been told I was to be the guest speaker. I glanced at the man who had invited me—the husband of a client—and the grin on his face made it clear that he was enjoying the situation. (I later realized that he resented the work I had been doing with his then-wife and that this was a form of retaliation meant to lower me in his wife’s estimation.)
     They invited me to give a demonstration of my trancework. I explained to them, essentially, that I was an agnostic spiritualist—that I did not know anything for sure about the existence of the paranormal—and I informed the group that I told my clients that I did not speak from any spiritual “authority.” A woman politely asked me if she could take my pulse as I did my trance; I told her I did not like being touched when I was in trance. Another woman asked me if my psychic abilities were proven to be imaginary, would I be willing to give up my career as a psychic? My honest answer was, “I hope I would have the courage to do so.”
     I attempted a demonstration, and it was a complete disaster. I felt surrounded by a 6 foot high, 6 foot thick, impenetrable wall. Absolutely no impressions of any kind reached me until the very end of the session, when I picked up a few mini-“hits” about two of the men in the audience. One set of impressions I received spontaneously, about a man’s popularity with his young students; the other set of impressions came as a response to a question that later proved to be a complete fabrication. At one point I saw an elderly man at the back of the audience staring at me, and the look on his face was pure unmitigated contempt. When I was done, I saw the delighted looks on the faces of a number of the audience members, and it was clear that I was not in a skeptics group, but in a debunkers group, and that they had gotten the experience they desired.
     After the meeting I was ignored by everyone in the group, and left quietly. A week or so later one of the audience members interviewed me privately, and although he was very polite, it was clear from the questions he asked, and the details he dropped about himself, that he was a conservative Catholic who believed that spiritual guides were Satanic deceivers promoting humanism above the revealed doctrines of the Church. Later he wrote a letter to the local paper claiming “Rand Lee may be the only honest psychic in Santa Fe,” a reference I believe to my hope that I would have the courage to quit my profession if proven a fake–and though some might take this as damning with faint praise, it did console me a trifle that at least one person at the conference did not believe I was a charlatan, just self-deluded.
     It took me many years to regain my confidence in my abilities. But I learned from this experience that (1) when I am in an altered psycho-receptive state my critical analytical faculties are offline, and I am unable to detect when I am being conned or lied to; (2) that I cannot read through my own fears—I must feel safe in order to relax and get objective impressions of my audiences; (3) that I cannot read people who do not wish to be read; and (4) that I have the right to say “No” to any situation aimed at humiliating me. I see now that I should have refused to give a demonstration at that meeting, and called out the man who invited me for his act of passive aggression. Not to have done so was, I fear, foolish. I regret that decision to this day.
—October 2, 2017
I’ve recently come across a very enlightening website that addresses the issue of honest skepticism vs. the current fashion in verbally abusive online pseudoskepticism. The site is http://www.skepticalaboutskeptics.org.

Do You Believe In Fairies? Clap Your Hands

Spoiler Alert: Last night, on Netflix, I watched a British film called “Hippopotamus”. The main character and narrator is a  late middle aged British critic whose sardonic skepticism is equaled only by his sense of personal failure and self-loathing. In the film, he is called to an aristocratic country home to investigate rumors that a younger son there—the critic’s godson—has developed supernatural healing abilities. A man, a horse, and several women have been reported as cured of life-threatening illnesses when the boy laid hands upon them.

“Hippopotamus” is well scripted and well acted. The main character’s acerbic wit both appeals and appalls. But the ending is predictable. The critic—a former poet plagued with writer’s block for decades—unmasks the “healings” as a con on the part of the boy: one of the women dies, and the others’ symptoms return, except for the horse’s, who turns out to have been suffering from nothing worse than a hangover brought on by lapping up an alcoholic beverage accidentally dumped into its water bucket by the critic.

There is a happy ending of sorts: the boy admits to the con; is reconciled with his father, whom the con had been designed to impress; the critic’s writer’s block dissolves; and he starts making poems again. But the underlying assumptions of the film are what I’ve come to expect from modern secular media: there is no God; “miracles” are simply chance occurrences explicable by natural law; and anyone who believes in God, the supernatural, faith, or life after death is a self-deluded lamebrain.

True confession time: The movie depressed me. Against all experience and true expectation, I had deep down hoped that the main character would at least have been left with some doubts about the certitude of his materialism. When the hope was dashed, my ancient doubts concerning the true nature of my own mystical and psychic experiences rose up chattering. This is nothing new—my mind has always been a house divided, rationalist on one side, mystic on the other—and when such dark moods descend on me, I feel like a charlatan who has wasted his life living in a dream world.

Oddly enough, when I go into trance, or throw the cards for a client, or am in the presence of others who have had mystical experiences, my doubts recede, and the quiet joy of knowing that Divine Love is real, and that we are all,  ultimately, safe, returns.  But when I am alone in my flat, at night, it is more difficult to recapture that startling sense of peace I experience in the day.

This dualism is in part inherited: My father was an agnostic and purported rationalist; my mother, a high church Episcopalian who taught me from an early age “If I should die before I wake, I pray my Lord my soul to take.” I always felt torn between them, to the point where, as a child, I taught myself to sleep on my back rather than on my left or right side, because Daddy slept on the left side of the bed he shared with Mommy, and Mommy slept on the right side, and I felt if I chose right or left I would be siding with one parent against the other.

Tonight, as I lay in bed suffocating beneath the dread that the materialists are right, and that my mystic experiences are nothing more than brain farts, I could understand how some people believe in demon oppression or soulsucking negative thoughtform attacks—because I felt attacked, not by demons, but by the overwhelmingly pessimistic materialism of modern secular intellectual culture. And the thought came to me: You don’t have to give in to these doubts. You have a choice, based upon your experience, to believe in spirit guides, nature spirits, ghosts, reincarnation, soul travel, ESP, Tarot, channeling, and other manifestations of nonlinear consciousness, or not to believe in them. Which choice makes your life run more smoothly while not violating either your reason or your intuition? Choose now.

My lifelong difficulty reconciling my father’s agnosticism with my mother’s emotional religiosity was predicted, many years ago, when I was a sophomore at St. John’s College in Annapolis, Maryland. I developed a crush on a bisexual upperclassman who dabbled in the occult, inspired by the characters in John Fowles’ The Magus. One day, while in a pot-fueled trance, he predicted that I would spend my life standing on the crossroads showing the way for others to follow, while never taking that path myself.

Tonight I say: I choose to believe that life is more than a molecular dance, wondrous though that dance may be. Tonight I choose to believe that Spirit is real, and that my experiences of It are glimpses of a truth underlying, upholding, and surrounding the truths of physical reality. To put it another way, words deliberately chosen to irritate the the sophisticated atheist who lives inside me: tonight I choose to believe in fairies. And if you choose to believe in them, too? Why, do what Peter Pan invited us to do when Tinker Bell lay at death’s door. If you believe in fairies, clap your hands. •