Saturday, July 18th, 2020 –

Saturday, July 18th, 2020 —> +13˚C / +55˚F & Overcast @ 6:51 am in Atlantic Canada on what would have been my cousin, Gary’s, birthday – Also Cheryl W.’s birthday – 🙂 –

- Evelynn + Foating Building + Lamp-Post

– Evelynn, “Don’t look at me – I can’t levitate lamp-posts and Customs Houses-“

— Evelynn is Nikki’s latest builder-avatar – { she’s incredibly cute and when viewed in a ‘gaming’ monitor her red hair is amazing. Here she looks a bit anemic } – and she was on a mission – to see how many areas were having obvious problems right around here – since we managed to fix a major problem with the area where ‘Aerendel City’ will be.

— Almost all the areas connected to the City have gone wonky – land masses hav gone down, buildings stay where they used to be – And the weird thing is, if you walk { more like ‘Run’ } you builder-avatar one way, there is no problem at all, but if you run him or her another way – there are definite problems. – Jumping – ( Or flying ) from Aerendel City to ‘Highland Forest’ = no problem. – Running around on the ‘ground’ from Aerendel City – down through the Birken Hills, through Birkenport – across into Daelen, and up through ‘AerWest04’ & ‘AerWest02’ and into the Highland Forest —> Birkenport’s buildings, docks, —> everything – is a couple feet off the ground. Daelen’s about a meter higher than it was an hour ago, but ‘Evelynn’ assured us that she used her ‘cunning’ to climb on a rock and jump onto the higher ground at Daelen. The Border between AerWest04 & 02 was only half-unglued – but the hills between the City and the Forest had not only slid several yards { or meters } north – but dropped a couple yards { or meters } down, too.

— Remind me – we have to send the miners down to find a lot of missing rocks that we used to hide the weird looking 2 dimensional edges of the ‘river’ we turned up on an angle to simulate a waterfall.

— Earlier this week I was ‘swearing my fool head off’ – using words I managed never to resort to for something like thirty years — { shhh – don’t tell anybody how old I might be –  }  But lately I’m laughing. If I still have my sense of humor – hey, that’s a good thing – I remember reading Carlos Castenada – “Your sense of humor is the first thing to go -”  { Heavy sigh and smile at the sky – }

- Diane -

– My sister, Diane, year unknown, in mom’s kitchen during renovations… –

— Meanwhile – Along with all the catastrophes in the game world we’re building – I decided I probably needed to move things around in my ‘office’ here – I woke up from a dream and while I was half asleep, half awake I saw myself looking happier while working on stuff and writing my novels etc, if things in here were in a different configuration and I could actually get up and turn around without knocking anything over or stubbing my toe and needing to hop to the washroom to find the band-aids…

—- In the process of moving stuff out of the office and into the room we were getting ready to fill with a couple desks and printer stands – since Cathi has officially been told to go ahead and ‘create’ herself a home office since they don’t want all their people back in the building until the Covid-19 thing is enough of a nasty memory that they could safely move into ‘phase 3’ of their ‘recovery plan’… — um, while moving stuff around, feeling like my life was one of those silly little plastic puzzles where you have to slide the little square pieces around in a highly imaginative way to get it right? –  Duh — in the process of moving stuff around – I opened a couple boxes that were in the closet in here under other boxes — and found some interesting photographs I’d forgotten about, like this Polaroid of my sister Diane, probably from the late 60’s or early 70’s – when I was probably either still in the Navy or trying to eek out a living in Vermont…

— & – in the interest of not boring you to death, and maybe actually getting a few things done this morning – I should end here, and figure I got a fraction of the things said that I’ve wanted to say to my friends and family for the past couple weeks — and see if I can actually ‘budget’ my time instead of racing full out in seventeen directions at once. …

— “Have a good life!” { still can’t believe in wishing anybody one good day at a time… }

~~~~~ Jim

My Father was a Monster – With a pretty good sense of Humour – I’m left with PTSD & a handful of happy memories.

Tuesday, June 25th, 2019 – +21˚C / +70˚F – sunny & bright with a deep blue sky @ 11:11 am  –

— “Not a poem” from my friend, Douglas Jay Otterson in the Ithaca, New York area —>

“My Father Was a Monster”


He was everyone’s friend at family gatherings
But two swigs later his eyes could turn glassy
his huge strong arms swung violently through the air.
And his roar was as bad as his bite.We never knew what to expect
He was everybody’s friend at home in the kitchen
singing “Daddy’s little Girl” with a big smile on his face
and one of my sisters on his knee.
One slam of his fist on the kitchen table
rattled all the silverware in the house.I don’t think he physically hurt
any one of his daughters
But the psychological terror was always
one or two seconds away.I might have been thirteen years old
when somebody gave me a lockable diary
for Christmas or my birthday.
I kept it in a bureau drawer
under folded tee shirts
But somehow he found it and picked the lock-
-Got drunk at a family picnic and
called me an asshole in front of everybody,
quoted two lines from one of a hundred pages
-somewhere in the middle of the book, middle of the page –
That kind of betrayal never goes away

I started writing in French. And in code.


I was not the only one-
I had friends who would never want to be there
when their fathers came home.
Our babysitter – whose father worked with mine
surprised us one night when dad was working nights
and her father on another shift had just come home.

She’d run out her back door and across three back yards
then down someone’s driveway, maybe another hundred yards
-across a main road and knocked our door.
She was trembling when she asked my mother
if she could hide out with us
until her father simmered down.

We didn’t ask why her father might have been crazy mad-
maybe even not mad at her.
We let her in. And I got sent upstairs to mind my own business.
And her mother called several hours later and said her father had passed out drunk
and it was safe to come home.

I was just beginning to realize when my father was drunk
and when he wasn’t
when he gave me a twenty dollar bill one night and told me to get
whatever I needed.
I bought a pair of shoes that fit me better than the ones I had.

The next day he asked me where the new shoes came from
I was confused, I said, “You gave me the money last night -”
How much? Twenty dollars.
“You took advantage of me, pal-” he began
and he went on a verbal warpath that evening-
demanded the seven dollars change I gave my mother
-terrorized every one of his five kids and his wife.

He raised his hand to strike one of us several times,
but never did – not that evening –
One sister went upstairs crying and he ran up after her
We were terrified
Every nerve on edge
we listened and were ready to jump
and try to subdue a monster bigger than all of us together
if it sounded like he was about to slap or punch a girl-
not even half his size
We heard him using his soft, friendly voice –
“I would never do anything to hurt you-”

He hit my mother twice.
Both times she packed us up and spirited us out of the house.
The first time she had my aunt pick us up and drive us to Vermont,
to her mother and father.
Where my grandfather groped all three of my sisters
and spouted the strictest, straight-arrow, black and white
moralistic b.s. I ever heard.

A couple details are scrambled lately
but I think my uncle came and got me and brought me back home
where we sat with my father and he looked broken and lost
my father looked broken and lost.
I thought he was genuinely remorseful. (I was fifteen or sixteen years old)
He promised to be a better person.
He promised all kinds of things.
My uncle drove me back to Vermont.
We packed up and came back home.

His best behavior lasted two weeks.

Another incident. I was already in Vermont
working at my grandparents Motel, Restaurant and gas station
Running the gas station pretty much by myself at the age of nineteen
for ten dollars a week. (and room and board?)
I don’t know what happened
But my mother and the other four kids showed up and dug in to stay
The younger kids were enrolled in local schools
My mother worked as a waitress and sometimes ‘hostess’
at the restaurant where I was designated emergency fill in dishwasher.

I don’t know – maybe it was a month later
my father found out where they were and came up, got a room in the motel
and threatened to charge mom with kidnapping.
The local Congregational Minister sat and talked with mom and dad
and in the end
Mom broke down and believed him
once again,
believed he could change
believed he could be better.

So they went back home
And I went with them,
thinking maybe he’d be more apt to keep his promises
now that I was six foot three and weighed a hundred and thirty pounds
I got a job pumping gas.
That lasted a couple months,
until I came down with hepatitis

My favorite uncle came to see me and his jaw dropped
he later said I looked three quarters dead.

I was slowly getting better.
The doctor said it might take a couple more months
my father, working his part time job,
delivering oil in an area close enough so he could stop home
to use the facilities, et cetera,
stopped home mid morning and roared
That if I was still there when he got home from work
he’d pitch me out in the middle of the road
He said he knew I got hepatitis
so I could avoid working
and paying him rent.

Ya know, I know-
A lot of kids had it worse
A lot of kids had broken bones and worse

But what convinced me that I had PTSD
was not just the nightmares.
{ or other weird dreams, like the time
I dreamed he came charging up the stairs
to beat the ‘living cement’ out of me – again –
and I jumped out of my body –
I probably really had an astral projection-
I leaped through the roof and out into a starry winter night,
bare trees, cold wind-
I turned around and saw through the walls and saw my bedroom
in bright sunlight
with the bed made
and nobody in it –
If this wasn’t enough to scare me –
I knew that I had not completed the task
that God or one of the ArchAngels had assigned me –
I hadn’t written my books
and I snapped right back into my body,
it was still night, and nobody had run up the stairs
in a bloodlust
to beat up anybody.

I was amazed at how miraculously relaxed I felt }

I had several dreams in which my father fell asleep or died
while driving a family car
and I tried to climb out of the back seat, over him –
to get into the driver’s seat
and steer us to safety.

Most nightmares had invisible demons coming after me.

but worse than nightmares –
whenever he threatened me – or my mother,
or seemed on the verge of losing control
I had immediate visualizations of anything within reach
that I could use as a weapon
and a felt myself summon the adrenaline I’d need
to smash his skull or drive a knife into his jugular vein,
give him a karate inspired knuckle punch to the adams apple –

I somehow never lost control –
well- one time
a dog followed one of the kids into the house
they were petting him.
My father picked the dog up and
threw the dog down the stairs
didn’t break any bones
but it yelped and ran like crazy to get away –
And as my father started screaming
“Who the Christ Jesus let that dog into the house?”
I jumped out of my room
with blood in my eyes and
was half a heartbeat away
from pushing my father down the stairs
At the last moment
I turned and smashed a hole two feet in diameter
in the sheet rock wall at the top of the stairs.
He didn’t hear the crash
as he was roaring and stomping down the stairs.

The next morning
he discovered the hole in the wall –
Asked my mother about it
she told him he came home drunk and he did it.
He’d already kicked and punched through a couple other walls
he believed her. (I think she only lied in life or death situations.)

Years later, working at the post office
seeing supervisors and managers bullying
powerless employees,
vandalizing post office property and blaming custodians
they wanted to get rid of any way they could-
lying on official documents and when, in the grievance process
they were confronted with evidence that they’d lied, they’d reply
“Management has the right to make comments.”

At the post office-
I never came close to bashing any skulls in-
but I did have to walk away and calm my breath
several times

It took me two years of
delivering newspapers
of an unethical publisher
in New York State –
Out – driving throw-away junkers
on a two hundred and fifty mile loop through three counties
away from supervisors and managers
making peanuts, actually losing money
as they double charged everybody that worked for them
and claimed I owed for more papers they never issued to me-

it took me two years of fresh air and sunshine
and wind and rain and driving snow
before I could think about idiotic post office supervisors
without imagining me in a dark foggy alley with a metal baseball bat
watching them approach, half drunk and bragging about how they
got to the Puerto Rican guy they didn’t like,
and got the African American custodian to resign for health reasons
when I was no longer there to protect them –

I would have loved to see the look on their eyes
when the cop they called to press charges against me
for smashing windshields and slashing tires on post office delivery vehicles
when the officer was a friend of the family and laughed in their faces,
“I know that man – he’s working for a newspaper three hundred miles from here-
and has been for three years now.”
This was somebody who’d listened to me ‘belly aching’ about the nonsense
those supervisors were pulling against innocent employees
And he only half believed me, thought I was exaggerating.
Until they tried to frame me for something
some other stressed out postal worker
or random pissed off customer
or slithering supervisor committed.

It took me at least another decade and a lot of yoga
to calm myself down to where my first thought-
when faced with slimy evil manipulating son of a guns –
was not, “yeah, the world is full of idiots”
wasn’t even, “Let it go – somebody will get even with someone like that –
don’t go to jail because you let him get to you.”
but an actual – “Be patient, God isn’t finished with a lot of us yet.”
or, “There really are two kinds of people on this planet-
Angels in Training and Angels in Trouble. –
And a lot of us have one foot in each camp –
And some of us are centipedes.”

Sixty something years into this life
and I need to work on my delivery.
I fought the anger down
I no longer jump at the sound of brakes
I no longer spend half my life expecting a sucker punch
from a huge right hand.

He was six feet, two or three
When I was more like five foot nine
He weighed around three hundred pounds
when I was more like ninety nine pounds with my ribs showing

He’d often drop or misplace a pen
and start an inquisition with a roar –
“Who stole my pen and what did you do with it?”

a teenaged zit was dinner table conversation –
“What the Christ ya got growing out of your head?”
-he’d ask with a leering grin.

We moved from a project duplex
with paper thin walls and neighbors so close
you could spit out a window and hit their outside walls
We moved to a ‘nicer neighborhood’
where we could hear the large man across the street
roar at his wife with ‘f’ words I never heard
in the old ‘not so nice’ neighborhood.

So I figured every one within three hundred yards, maybe more
could hear every tirade – would know we kids could drive a saint to swear
could hear that my mother belonged in a luney bin,
Could probably wonder what the hell it meant to be told,
“You sound like someone with a paper asshole.”

The really scary part was –
He could be warm and affectionate
and even make sense
So there were times when I doubted my own sanity
and thought I might have judged him wrong
judged our whole situation wrong.

But then my middle sister reminded me of the time
He knocked me down in the back yard, knelt on my arms,
removed my glasses and pummeled my head with both fists
screaming, “Give me a knife, I’m gonna kill him. Get me a knife!”

And we never knew what set him off.

If we didn’t have a clue about some evil deed he was accusing us of –
we’d often hear, “Don’t play Mickey the Boo with me, pal-”
and maybe need to duck or get smashed
-so who the hell was Mickey the Boo? None of us knew.

The woman I love probably saved me from an early grave
in more ways than one.
At a critical time in ‘my life’
she fell in love with my voice and one poem I wrote.

I told her I’d drive five hundred miles for a hug
and turn around and drive right back if she took one look and went, “ugh-”

I drove more than twelve hours across New York State Highways,
crossed the bridge – went through customs
remembered what she said, answered all the questions
and appreciated the young customs guy’s smile as he welcomed me to Canada.

I called from a convenience store, apologized for taking, what?
-maybe five hours longer than I’d expected that drive would take me?
We met through a locked and chained door
in a semi-public place.
-On a scale of one to ten – I felt like a three
and the first glimpse of her I got
I thought, ‘Oh my god, she’s at least an eleven -‘
But we hugged and talked and
she didn’t send me right back home.

Now- it’s seventeen years and a couple months later
And I believe we have the best relationship of any couple
I’ve ever known or heard of.
Nobody’s perfect, but maybe our neuroses mesh
without exploding
And there are times when she’s actually said
she wondered why I stuck around
through a couple odd stretches
that I guess she thinks
would have sent anybody else packing –
and – man – I think I wonder how she puts up
with my ‘quirks and idiosyncrasies’ and outright failures –
I think I wonder about that at least twice a week.

But I found something this morning
I thought we’d used up long ago and I felt good about that
I showed it to her and wondered if she’d found it a put it where I’d find it
And when I asked her if she’d known it was there
She nearly lost her temper and said
she didn’t need to face an inquisition while she
was getting ready for work

I was stunned.
I’m not my father.
Do I sound like him
without meaning to?

Good Grief?


— Douglas J Otterson – June 25, 2019 —

After searching for a week – I found “Ghost” – Jon Snow’s Dire Wolf – ‘alive and well’ in the preview for Tomorrow Night’s episode –

Saturday, May 4th, 2019 – +9˚C / +48˚F – greyish and ‘overcast’ ( cloudy ) @ 12:11 pm in Atlantic Canada –

photo of Survivors of The Long Night ready to burn the bodies of those that did not survive.

– It took me all week and probably ten minutes of pausing and reverse -pause-forward-pause- pause-wait- reverse- pause – AHA! to see what others saw last Sunday night in the USA after Game Of Thrones – Season 8 Episode 3 “The Long Night” gave us all PTSD relapses 😉 Ghost the Dire Wolf is in the above photo behind Samwell Tarly and Dany. { Right 4th of the photo } –

— “Ghost” the all white Dire Wolf – went galloping off beside Ser Jorah Mormont and the Dothraki horde as they charged off gallantly to face the White Walkers and their army of the dead.  After that initial charge we did not see Ghost again.

— I’m a fan of “Talk the Thrones” – which moved to the ringer dot com last year after HBO or who{m?}ever failed to bring them back for season 7. – And – After Mallory Rubin let us know she was worried about Ghost’s fate –  somebody texted her during their broadcast that they had seen Ghost in the preview/ teaser for episode 4. I tried most of the over night last Sunday into Monday – and couldn’t find that trailer/teaser/preview on HBO Canada up here in New Brunswick. – Then I found a couple different versions of the official trailer – or maybe what I found was that my computer skipped over subliminal very quick frames and showed Euron Greyjoy’s fleet at the beginning of one trailer and just a quick subliminal blip of that fleet in another. A trailer from a UK site was the most complete. I was able to see that the two ‘living’ dragons had both survived that insane battle but the rest of the ‘trailer’ flipped past so fast I could not see Ghost anywhere.

— I tried to surf in to any between program trailers I could find on HBO Canada and that was a waste of time. So When GOT s8e3 came on at 5 am here this morning on ‘HBO Canada West’ I watched it for probably the tenth time in 6 days and was able to notice a couple split second flashes of things I missed in the first 9 viewings –

Close up of the top photo

– Extreme closeup – from a non-4K television monitor – and this is what I got – but if you can’t find Ghost in the top photo you may be able to see him here. –

— I think Bran may be remote viewing me here – this closeup is so unclear that most details are lost, but there’s the Dire Wolf. { Yay! }

— && I better post this before I start to worry that maybe the Northerners and what’s left to the Dragon Queen’s army are in for an even more horrendous battle in the south. After they saved the continent from the undead – will the evil, power-crazy, unethical slimeballs in the south be able to hang on to their evil empire after all?

— Not quite a spoiler —> We’ve heard hints that we should watch episode 5 on the largest screen we can.

— Yay?

~~~~~ Jim

New Year – Progress?

– Thursday Morning, January 10th, 2019 —> -2˚C / +28˚F —> dark & snowing very lightly around Fredericton New Brunswick @ 2:34 am –

Jessicka by night.

– “Jessicka by Night” –

— {{{ Jessicka was a main female character in my NaNoWriMo novel last year –  which still needs a bit of ‘fleshing out’. Her father was the head of a university’s psychology department and he grumbled at their family dinners about ‘non scientific’ ‘Morons’ who filled people’s heads with nonsense about life after death when the truth was obvious to him that the human brain manufactured fantasies like near-death experiences because the average member of ‘the great unwashed’ couldn’t face the ‘truth’ that there was no god, there was no after-life and their pitiful little egos would simply cease to function when their heart stopped pumping and their physical brains shut down. Her mother was a nurse with a warm, nurturing nature, who quietly muttered things like, “Never tell your father I said so, but I believe his ‘scientific approach’ is full of holes – he dismisses anything that does not support his pre-judged attitude on any subject. I rather think the human mind only functions when it is open to possibilities that have not been satisfactorily been dis-proven – and I rather call myself a militant agnostic: ‘I don’t know and he doesn’t either.’-” In the opening chapters of the novel Jessicka goes through a nightmarish experience that could shatter the sanity of almost anyone, and as she is nursing the man who saved her from a hellish death, she feels stinging tears as he describes the near death experiences he has as he’s in and out of a coma. She thinks he’s dying and his dreams and visions just might be the product of a dying human mind trying to shield itself from the truth. }}}


— Meanwhile, here on Earth, In case you haven’t been paying attention:

  • U.S. Presidink Donald J Trump appears to be trying to exploit something of a mole hill he wants everybody to believe is one hell of a mountain as he’s tantrum-ing over getting his border wall between Mexico and the U.S.A. { One night we get a news story about drug lords and other nasty people tunneling hundreds of yards beneath border check points to sneak their guns and drugs and killer henchmen into the USA and the next night Donald J Trump is trying to make everybody believe that if they give him 5.7 billion US dollars to build his wall – everybody will be able to sleep well at night – safe and sound and secure —> Until the people who love keeping everyone else in a state of anxiety so they can be easily manipulated into surrendering their constitutional rights and forking over the ‘hard earned dollars’  that jerks like Trump claim they are trying to take back from the ‘tax and spend liberals’ and put into the pockets of the fine, upstanding { ‘White’ } working people. } —> { but – do you have any evidence that all the ‘major tax cuts’ the conservative, republican types have pushed through in the last hundred years or so have put any real money into the pockets and bank accounts of anybody but the filthy rich ‘robber barons’? }
    • & in the realm of G.M.O’s : where nobody came right out and mentioned “Monstanto” :
  • In ‘main-stream’ morning news up here in Canada – on a CBC morning News programme – ‘Information Morning’ on the radio and through the internet – ‘New Brunswick First’ on television – A doctor with no apparent political agenda – talking about the various trials and tribulations of health care in Canada and answering questions about food allergies versus food intolerances – fielded one called-in or emailed-in question with, “Well – for one thing – you should avoid high-fructose corn syrup altogether if you can, it’s no good for anybody.” – implying that high fructose corn syrup caused a lot of gastrointestinal discomfort that many patients believed were caused by some kind of food allergy they couldn’t quite figure out.
  • But then again today, on another programme on the same CBC radio station, another Doctor – & this one sounded to me like he ‘drank the cool-aid’ – responded to a negative comment about Genetically Modified Organisms with, “But what you people don’t understand is: There are a hell of a lot of people on this planet and we have to do something to step up the production of food because our resources have their limits.” —> What this guy missed – or ignored – was all the verifiable research that Genetically Modified seeds have proven to deliver much less harvested food than the ‘old-fashioned’ non-modified, non-proprietary, non-poisonous, { idiotic } seeds that Monsanto sells to unwary farmers who then discover they can’t afford to constantly buy those high-priced seeds every year and the seeds they try to save from the crops they’ve planted and harvested have been ‘scientifically treated’ not to grow.

— I think that’s all the pain I can handle for one morning.

— Time for an extended chorus of “When will they every learn? When will they Ehhhhh-ehhhh-verrrr learn?”


~~~~~ Namasté —

~~~~~ Jim


From 1993

Christmas Day, 2018 —> -9˚C / +15˚F – quiet with clear skies @ 4:30 pm as the sun is getting ready to set in Atlantic Canada –

Christmas Morning Sun Rise

– Sunrise – A little after 8:45 am this morning –

— Cathi found a notebook of mine from 1993 –

Who Am I ?


I believed

I was the electric silence

that nearly rang inside

and all around my head

-the magnet pull

in my heart

-the questions I held

to the heavens

-the answers I starved

and thirsted for

-the promise to listen

for those answers

-the welling within my


– which reached

through darkness

-and promised to do

the best I could

until I knew

which name

God would call me by –


– december 18, 1993



~~~~~ Jim

This Universe Has Many Levels.

Sunday, December 16th, 2018 — +1˚C / +33˚F — ‘clear’ & hinting at evening @ 4:41 pm

= = = = =

Okay, you are most likely reading this in the Material Universe. Many of you believe that this is the only universe there is.  If you can’t handle me telling you that you’re wrong, ‘log out’ of here and go somewhere else now.

The material universe is the lowest of several universes that are right here, right now.

“Above” the material universe there is the ‘Astral’ Universe. The Astral Universe is where we go when we’re dreaming. { That’t the most simple explanation. You also contact the Astral Universe when you are visualizing/imagining things, people, events etc. — }

The Astral Universe is many times larger than the material universe. The size differential has been compared to a hot air balloon and the basket below the hot air balloon in which passengers ride. The Astral Universe is the balloon and the basket is the material universe. The Astral Universe has also been called the Emotional Universe. The Material Universe can be called the Physical Universe. If and when you’re in the Astral Universe, you may be able to touch things and believe they are physical because they will be at the same ‘density’ as you are.

There are sections of the Astral Universe that are dark – where things are not that easy to see – This has been called the ‘lower’ astral universe or lower astral plane. ‘Mischievous’ or even downright ‘mean’ and ‘destructive’ and/or ‘negative’ beings like hanging out in the lower astral universe. You could enjoy yourselves down there, and feel pretty safe, or you could believe you are stuck in what some people who have experienced the least friendly citizens of the lower Astral Universe have described as ‘Hell’.

There are also lighter and brighter sections of the Astral Universe where ‘nicer’ beings tend to hang out and spend their time enjoying ‘life’ and the company of not so mean, or nasty individuals who either spend most of their time there – often between ‘lives’ in the material universe – or pop in and out as they dream. Some people who have been to the higher/lighter sections of the Astral Universe believe they have been in ‘Heaven’ – but this is not the Ultimate perfectly Bliss-Filled area that all evolving beings believe is the end of their journey through life or many lives.

Beyond the Astral Universe there is the Causal Universe. Again, the Causal Universe is much bigger than the Astral Universe – the size differential is again comparable to the size of a hot air balloon and its basket with the Causal Universe being the balloon this time and the Astral Universe being the comparative size of the basket. Where the Astral Universe is the realm of emotions – the Causal Universe is the realm of the higher intellect.

Do not be confused and believe that by higher intellect I mean this is something you can achieve by attending a decent university and training your brain just right. The higher intellect functions on a level where anything you imagine, you can manifest – if you want a river in a parched desert land you can ‘dream one up’ and have it become reality. Beings that have evolved to the level where they can live in the Causal Universe can manifest just about anything they desire. If you can imagine that the material and astral universes are the grammar schools and middle schools in the wider universes of education, we have to learn a lot of lessons on self control and discover what is most important in our lives and go through a lot of testing before we can graduate to the Causal Universe. A few really angry citizens of the Causal Universe could turn the place into hell if they believe they can and should set anyone and anything on fire who looks at them wrong or says something they’re not ready to hear. “Abandon all self-righteous delusions that anger is a good thing” before you apply for an upgrade to the Causal realms.

There is something beyond the Causal Universe, but we can’t get there from here. And those who have been there and come back to tell us that, yes, there is something ‘out there’ can’t or won’t tell us exactly what that is.

= = = = =

And while I’m at it –


Let me throw a bit about ‘Chakras’ into this mix.

Your Sexual Center or Chakra has been called the ‘Lowest’ chakra in the human body. This is a bit tricky because sexual engery is actually finer and functions at a higher level than most average humans experience in their day to day existance. This might explain why sex drive is such a motivating force down here in the material universe.

If you identify yourself as a purely sexual being, and if your attraction to others remains on the sexual level, one ‘romp in the hay’ will satisfy your attraction and you’ll want to move on to other attractions / other experiences.

Next up is the physical chakra – If the attraction between two individuals is purely physical, a little bit of aging may modify that attraction to the point where one or both idividuals will lose interest in each other and go looking for a younger partner or partners.

The ‘lower’ intellectual center or chakra is next up. If two individuals are attracted by each other’s intellect all it might take to break up that attraction is one person changing their mind about something the other person believes is important.

The next higher center or chakra is the lower emotional center. If an attraction between two people is emotional – that relationship has a 50/50 percent chance to last – we’ve crossed the line into long lasting relationships here.

Above the lower emotional center is a higher emotional center or chakra.

Above the higher emotional center there is a higher intellectual center or chakra.

Somewhere above the lower emotional center peeople become much more ‘spiritual’ in their outlook and their goals and aspirations.

If an attraction between two individuals comes from this spiritual area that many humans attain, then their connection will blow any obstacles that might try to keep those two people apart – out of the way, out of the water – and basically – their combined energies will move Heaven and Earth to bring those two people together.

= = = = =

How do you know what level you’re on in relation to the chakras?

When you’re fully involved with your sexual center your drives are purely sexual.

When you’re fully involved with your physical center you tend to want to relax and go to sleep and stay there.

When you’re fully engaged with your lower intellectual center you want to learn about things.

When you’re fully engaged with your lower emotional center you may want to satisfy your desires, sometimes in confused manners like over-eating, seeking over-stimulation through drugs or serial romantic encounters – or, if you’re lucky, you may seek to please and be pleased by the one person you are most committed to.

When you’re fully engaged with your higher emotional center you are filled with a sense of love and compassion – you want to nurture others and make their lives more comfortable, happier, and ‘better’.

When you become fully engaged with your higher intellectual center you are driven to know what exactly ‘God’ is and what God is all about. You will also understand that to know more and more about the ‘Divine’ you will want to share what you’ve already learned about ‘God’ and the ‘higher laws of Creation’.

= = = = =

This is probably enough for one article here.

— Namaste —

~~~~~ Jim





“Psychic Photographs” – Evidence of Life Most of us Don’t See?

— Sunday, September 9th, 2018 —  +11˚C / +52˚F – dark & slightly cloudy @ 8:19 pm —

— Below is one page from our website before we discovered and began to use WordPress :

Aerendel Logo

Haunted Arnprior

These are images that Cathi and I got when we took photos and are not retouched.

The Gillies Mansion:

Gillies House in 2005

— Cathi took this photo in April of 2005. There was nobody visible when she took it. We both had a feeling there was someone there, I had the impression there was a woman inside, behind one of the windows. We didn’t get a really good look at this photo until almost a year later. What do you see to the left of the chimney, in front of the house?

Gillies house April, 2005

Enlarged slightly.

Spooky Photo

— Now, this one showed up (not through the viewfinder or the digital window of the camera) after I tried to take a photo of Christmas season lights and the mist rising from the distant waterfall (locally called the “weir”). At first I thought I’d captured some fog rising from a storm drain – but then I looked and… no storm drain, no cars had gone by and I had not just exhaled, I held my breath to steady the camera. Then I started noticing what looks like eyes in this photo. And, when I showed it Cathi, and then others, they saw more and more figures in the white stuff. I think this is the most clear photo of whatever this white stuff is that I’ve seen yet, (saw a photo of something that somebody thought was a poltergeist on line a short time ago, but that was blurry and I didn’t see anything much in it….)


Special Notices

Radio: Coast to Coast AM

Yahoo Groups Sign In Page

Um, Let’s see… I’m always looking for more things to go here.

I may soon figure out how to imbed a MySQL data base type forum that only okayed subscribers can comment on and put that in here somewhere.

Cat Woman
“Cat Woman”
by Marie Buchfink
(I want to give her a link
from here, as soon as I find
out where to link it to.)

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Sunday, 9 October, 2007 3:09 PM