Lehal Library

The entire situation is overwhelming. I feel uneasy and unsure of what to do next. Should I walk over and communicate with this stranger or avoid him? My dilemma is quickly resolved when I snap back into my physical body. As I lie in bed it hits me that this man might be the same person I saw during my first out-of-body experience. The more I review his appearance, the more convinced I am that this man is not just a non-physical resident “passing by”; he seems to be watching my every move. It is also apparent that he had no intention of approaching or communicating with me. I suspect that he knew that any movement on his part toward me would probably have scared me; just the sight of someone standing there was unsettling enough. For several days, curiosity concerning this man fills my mind. What are his intentions and purpose? I wonder if he is some sort of guide observing my progress. In addition, I wonder if everyone having out-of-body experiences has someone observing their progress. He obviously did not wish to interfere; in fact, he seemed almost surprised when I finally did see him. I can only speculate that he probably was observing my out-of-body experiences from a slightly different vibrational level in order to remain unobserved. When I focused my attention I must have raised my vibrational rate and was then able to see beyond my normal physical-like surroundings. Comparing this to my first experience, I realize that they were similar in many respects. The main difference was that my control and vision were better this time. The more I thought about my experiences, the more I realized that everything I believed to be fact or truth had to be reappraised. For example, the long-standing “fact” that our consciousness is the result of electrochemical activity within the brain was now a laughable conclusion resulting from obviously incomplete information. Now I knew that the brain had to serve some other function, possibly as a biological transfer device between the non-physical mind and the physical body. It became clear that the physical brain is similar to a computer’s hard drive, storing information and memories needed to support and operate our temporary biological vehicle. As my out-of-body experiences continued, this observation was confirmed time and again. One thing was certain, I could think without my physical brain; I could create, analyze, and recall thoughts. I also recognized that there were definite differences. For example, when out-of-body I was more spontaneous and single-minded than in my physical body. I felt somehow motivated to do things I wouldn’t ever consider while in my body. For example, I would often think about flying and then instantly fly out of the room and glide around my neighborhood, or find myself flying over strange landscapes I couldn’t begin to identify. I sometimes suspected that I was being directed by a more expansive, unknown part of myself. Often my spontaneous thoughts would lead me to situations and experiences that provided insight into areas or events that were related to my past or present. On numerous occasions I didn’t understand the reason for these experiences until weeks or even years later. The next experience had a profound effect on me. For the first time I truly realized the unlimited potential of non-physical explorations. Journal Entry, July 9, 1973 Around noon I decide to take a nap. I visualize my mother’s living room as I drift off to sleep. A sensation of numbness and tingling energy spreads throughout my body. I enjoy the sensation and easily lift out of my body. A feeling of excitement flows through me as I move to the foot of the bed. As I look around, I have a sudden urge to see the young woman in the apartment above mine. Instantly I float upward and feel my head and shoulders enter the ceiling. For some unknown reason I encounter an intense resistance and can’t pass through the ceiling. For a moment I’m stuck in the ceiling and I begin to panic. I say aloud, “Down,” and instantly move down to the floor. With a feeling of relief I calm down and center myself. I walk to my bedroom door and step into it. As I move through the door I feel a slight tingling sensation but encounter no problems; up close the door has a misty, hazy appearance. Walking normally, I enter the living room and am heading toward the front door when suddenly, to my right, I clearly hear a man’s voice calling my name. “Willie.” Startled, I look around and stare at a man sitting on the sofa. He appears to be in his late twenties and somehow seems familiar. “Willie, it’s good to see you.” I recognize his voice and immediately know that it’s my uncle Hilton in front of me. Shocked by his presence, I just stare at him as he speaks. “I bet you’re surprised to see me. He chuckles as he continues. “Had a little trouble with the ceiling.” I step closer and ask, “Uncle Hilton, is that you?” He smiles again. “Yes, it’s me.” I look at him closely. He appears twenty years younger and much thinner than when he died. He seems amused by my stare and says, “Hey, I’m just as surprised to see you as you are to see me. His tone becomes more serious. “Willie, how did you learn to do this?” I’m surprised by his question and respond, “I just tried it and it worked.” “There aren’t many who can do what you do. All of us are quite surprised.” He gazes at me, waiting for my reply. As I look at him, the reality of the situation is overwhelming. For some reason I feel a sudden inner need to fly. “Uncle Hilton, I have to go.” He smiles and nods as I move to the door. I easily step through the front door and see a broad green field before me (my physical surroundings are an apartment complex.) I step outside and extend my arms above me. My impulse to fly seems to propel me into the air like a rocket. I spread my arms, level off, and experiment with controlling my flight. As I look around, I can clearly see Route 40 below me. I decide to follow the road and fly west several hundred feet above the ground. Intense exhilaration and freedom radiate from every part of my being. Looking down, I can clearly see the road, homes, and even entire subdivisions. As I pass over Ellicort City, I feel a tugging sensation at the center of my back and think of my body. In a flash I snap back in my physical body and can feel a slight tingling and numbness that quickly dissipate. As soon as my physical senses return, I find my mother’s old photo albums and search for a picture of my dead uncle. Turning the pages wildly, I finally locate a photograph of him as a young man in his twenties. Without a doubt the thirtyyear-old photograph before me is the exact image of the man I just met. As I review this experience, a couple of things become clear. First, we obviously continue after death. Even though I have known this since my first out-of-body experience, it becomes even more apparent when you actually see and speak with a 6