Day after day I experienced unusual moments of Ah-ha’s and insights. First thoughts on waking in the morning were often the understanding a word in a new context. The word realize, now means seeing with my real eyes – with vision rather than sight. The word bargain, clearly showed that we bar-gain to gain something.
Among these discoveries were thoughts that made me say, “Where did that come from? Shut up yellow brain, you can’t talk like that to or about me!” I heard Ram say that “90% of thinking is negative.” That information was verified time after time when in the middle of a thought I wasn’t pleased with I’d have a brief episode of heart burn.
I spend 90% of my time alone, if you don’t count being on the computer for a couple of hours a day. When you live alone you can believe that you’re quite an agreeable kind of person. You can side-step drama most of the time, unless you’re aware of your thoughts and the ugliness that shows up in them. I was feeling an urgent need to be with people to find out how I was doing, which led me to invite myself to spend a weekend with two other long time RSE students.
The student with whom we were staying treated the three of us to breakfast on Sunday morning before I rode back home with the other student. On the drive to the restaurant I could hardly sit still in the front passenger seat while I looked at the new scenery. I was unusually excited about the newness of it all.
“Okay, I’m going to remote view our breakfast experience.” I said, and closed my eyes. I let anything that came across my frontal lobe be okay. Or that’s what I thought that I was doing. I remote viewed a rustic building with a second floor and an outside eating area, but the image came so fast I doubted its reliability and I didn’t voice it. After that act of cowardice I said what I saw without fear of being right or wrong. “I see an elderly couple in front of us going into the restaurant. Inside the waiting room there will be four people; a young couple with two small children. Although it’s the breakfast rush we’ll be seated within five minutes. Are there waiters rather than waitresses? I asked. “Oh, you can’t tell me that.” “Okay, the first person who waits on us is a male; probably a busboy. Our waitress is slim and she’s wearing a blouse or shirt with some kind of decoration; maybe a pin of some kind.’ At the sound of the car’s turn signal, I said, “I’m going to write this next thing down because the driver can influence the outcome of this”. I took an envelope from the tote that was on the floor at my feet and wrote; Red car on the right side of us in the parking lot and a tan vehicle on the left…bigger than a passenger car – either a station wagon, van, or SUV.
We pulled into the lot and parked between There was a black car on our right and a light tan minivan on the left. On the way across the parking lot the only other people were an elderly couple in front of us going into the Restaurant. Inside there were four people – not a couple with two young children, but two young couples. The hostess thought that my friend was alone because she signed only her name on the seating chart. “It will be a few minutes before a table for one is available.” She said. “There are three of us.” My friend said. “Oh, in that case, follow me.” We were seated within moments when a male wearing a white half apron came to the table and poured water for each of us. He left and a slim young woman about twenty came to the table. “Was the man who poured our water a waiter?” I asked. “No, he’s the manager. He was helping out because we’re so busy.” One of my friends said, “Look at her shirt.” The waitress was wearing a tee-shirt with the emblem of the name of the restaurant on it. My remote views were bang on! I was gleeful – maybe bordering on obnoxious in my right-on-ness.My breakfast of Eggs Benedict came with a bowl of fruit slices. Not fruit cocktail – a slice of fresh pineapple, slice of apple, half a peeled banana, a wedge of grapefruit and a few grapes on the stem.
On the way home from breakfast, still sitting in the front passenger seat, the three of us talked about the deep seated fear of being wrong that keeps us from developing our natural ability to know rather than think or guess. .
“I want to be powerful in every way. I don’t want to have to dig a hole, plant a tree, and wait for years to pick an orange. I said passionately. I want to manifest the orange in my hand!” I closed my eyes and held my left hand up and slightly cupped. I allowed the sense of weight of the materializing orange to bring my extended hand down an iota. I opened my eyes and saw my empty hand and without a thought, I brought my hand to my face and inhaled. ‘My God, my hand smells like an orange.’ I said caught up in the wonder of possibility. “That’s because you had a slice of orange in your fruit cup.” My friend, the driver of the car, said. ‘No, I didn’t. There was no orange in that bowl.’ I replied. “Yes there was, I watched you peel it.” She said. ‘There absolutely was no orange”. I said, feeling the heat rise inside of me.(After all, hadn’t I remote viewed correctly all morning? How could I have not known if I had eaten a slice of orange?) “Whatever.” She said. I looked at her right profile and I saw a smirk on her lips. An ancient red anger came over me and for one explosive instant I wanted to grab her by the throat, slap her, do her in. I didn’t say a word or make a sound. I was in a state of shock. I turned to look out the window to regain my composure. My God-Mind said to my personality, clearly and without judgment. “This understanding will save your life one day. Without it you would have killed someone you perceived as belittling you, or you would have belittled someone who would have taken your life due to their own inherent self-hatred. Be aware of rage’s existence.” I remembered a detective story where two women were embroiled in an argument. Later, one of the women was found murdered and eventually, the other woman confessed to having killed her. “I thought that I could let the whole bloody thing go. She sobbed. I could have too but she laughed at me and I was blinded by rage and I stabbed her.”
I thought about that smirk and I knew that it probably wasn’t a smirk at all. It was a projection of my fear of not being right which seems so entangled with survival. I had set it all up so elegantly when, without knowing why, I chose to make my remote views public. Because I was so successful doing that, I felt a bit infallible - which was the perfect time to have to face the possibility of failure. I thought of the killings taking place around the world at that very moment, because someone felt “dissed.”
How ugly it was to feel a searing hatred for one of my closest friends because she saw an orange slice and I didn’t. I also knew that it was way beyond the orange slice.
Early in his teaching during July’s Assay, Ram said there is an ugly, blinding rage inside human beings that has been part of our genetics for eons. Because of my recent experience I knew exactly what he was teaching. I’ve met my rage and I will conquer it, and I’m grateful to the runner that showed it to me.
- Category: General