Lehal Library

deceased person you have known. There is simply no way I could be mistaken; the man with whom I just had a conversation was definitely my uncle. Second, it strikes me that my uncle appeared to be in the prime of life—I would guess late twenties. In fact, he was so young I couldn’t immediately (at least visually) recognize him. It was his distinctive voice and his calling me “Willie” that really made it clear who he was. My deceased uncle is the only person who ever called me Willie; everyone else called me William or Bill. When my uncle died, he was fifty-four years old and considerably overweight; yet when I saw him, he appeared young, thin, and vibrantly healthy. It seems likely that after we shed our physical body at death, we assume the energy form molded or influenced by our concept of ourselves. Since I’ve learned that non-physical energies are naturally thoughtresponsive, it seems reasonable that our thoughts and self-image would influence our personal energy. It appears likely that we may assume the non-physical form that most fits our self-conception. If this is the case, I can’t help but wonder what I look like when I leave my body. Do I look the same as my physical body? I also wonder if my form would change if I intentionally altered my self-image. It sounds kind of bizarre, but it seems possible that our non-physical shape and form may also be a temporary vehicle, just like the physical body. I seriously wonder what would happen if (when out-of-body) I concentrated on changing the shape and form of my non-physical body. For several weeks, the meeting with my deceased uncle filled my mind. I was sure that he had seemed surprised and curious about my ability to leave my body, yet I also knew that he had appeared to be waiting for me—he seemed to know that I would walk into the living room. Maybe that was the reason I couldn’t go through the ceiling when I tried. It’s possible that I was being somehow directed to the living room. In addition, I had a strange sense that someone had been sitting next to him. It’s hard to explain, but I had felt someone else there, and I was sure that for a brief moment I had seen the subtle outline of a woman. I continued to follow the pattern that had worked for me in the past. I would wake up at seven o’clock and get ready for a college class at nine o’clock. After my class I would come back to my mother’s apartment and read until I became sleepy. Generally about noon I would begin to do my out-of-body technique. I continued to experiment with different methods but found that the simplest one worked best. I would go to my room, lie in bed, and visualize myself walking around the living room examining all the small details associated with the room. Often I would pick out three or four objects in the room and do my best to picture them clearly in my mind. I didn’t understand or even think about the mechanics of what I was doing; I only knew that it worked. An estimated 30 percent of the time, after dozing off I would find myself sitting up, floating, or rolling sideways out of my body. The sensations during separation were normally similar: a buzzing sound accompanied by an internal high-energy or vibrational feeling spreading through my body. At the peak of the vibrations I would mentally direct myself away from my body by sitting up or rolling out of my body. I preferred sitting up because rolling out would often cause a disjointed or disoriented feeling. I discovered that the easiest way was simply to sit up and step away from my body. I seemed to maintain more conscious control over my non-physical energy-body this way. It’s possible that the physical-like movements associated with walking had a grounding effect. Journal Entry, September 14, 1973 As I become sleepy, I mentally repeat my regular affirmation, “Now I’m out of body.” At the same time I visualize objects in my mother’s living room. After about fifteen minutes, I drift off. Suddenly, I’m startled awake by the sound of a gunshot near my head. My body is completely numb and an overwhelming flood of energy is flowing through me. I’m scared and instinctively think of my physical body. With a jolt I’m back in my body, looking around the room for the source of the sound. After my physical sensations return, I realize that I’ve handled this experience poorly. I suspect that the gunshot was an internal sound, probably caused by the act of separating from my physical body, and that I may have separated from a connecting point located somewhere in my head. There is a theory that all of us are connected to our physical bodies at seven energy locations and that a loud popping sound may indicate a separation occurring at or near the pineal gland. Currently I have no evidence to support this theory, but I must admit that my experience is remarkably similar to sounds reported by Sylvan Muldoon and Paul Twitchell. Little research exists on the sensations and sounds associated with out-of-body experiences. I hope that in the near future this will change. When we consider the vast potential for knowledge available, it’s only reasonable that more research should be conducted. I firmly believe that additional research would uncover new insights into the unseen nature and source of consciousness. Journal Entry, October 25, 1973 I become increasingly relaxed and drowsy as I repeat an out-of-body affirmation, “Now I’m out-of-body.” The next thing I know, I’m sitting up in bed completely aware and looking around my room. Vibrations flow through me as I lift and separate from my body, walk through my bedroom wall, and enter a new environment. I am walking on a sidewalk or path of some kind, and all around me is a wide, flat expanse. In the distance a radio tower extends as far as I can see. I have a strong urge to go to it and say to myself, “I must make it to the tower.” Instantly I am closer to it. Directly in front of me are dozens of old metal trash cans blocking my way. I begin to push them aside and ask aloud, “What do these things represent?” At that instant, a series of vivid pictures appears in my mind; I can’t tell if it’s originating from within me or somehow outside of me. “Very good, you’re starting to understand. You are in a higher vibratory region, a thought-responsive environment. Your perceptions of your surroundings are created by your mind. Your mind is interpreting the environment according to the reference points and forms it can relate to.” My mind overflows with excitement. For the first rime, I understand the obvious. The sidewalk is my path, the direction of my life. The trash cans are all the garbage that slows my progress: my fears, limits, and attachments. All these things 7