Tuesday, October 11, 2016


I don't know whether or
not I've ever mentioned
this, but one time, leaving
Elmira, out Water Street
to Rt. 17e, it was 4:30am,
and wintry dark : Out of
the sky came a bright light.
To our right was a long,
low, open field, into
which that light landed.
Not landed, fell. We had
a perfectly good car, a
VW Squareback, which
 is something they used
to make, about 1970. I'd
bought it for $800, which
is probably like 4 or 5
thousand today. From a
new car dealer (used) in
Elmira Heights, with the
cool name of 'Schulman-
Van Etta Buick', as I can
remember. There were
no other cars around,
just us  -  as I said it was
crisp and dark and quite
early and solitary. On the
way down, whatever it
was had made an odd,
sizzling sound, and then
hit. When this object hit
the ground  -  I kid you not
-  our car lost ALL power.
Just shut down, lights,
engine, radio, everything.
We were stunned, and
absolutely nothing
happened for maybe 3
minutes. While we just
sat there, stunned. Then,
everything came back
to life, and we went
on our way. We were
gone for five or six days,
but then we got back to
Elmira, days later, no
one mentioned a thing.
It was, all in all, quite
Twilight Zone-ish. I
only mention it here
because it's true and
it happened to me.
More than that, I can't
say. Elmira always did, 
and still does, represent 
to me some odd rather
other-worldly place. I 
can't put my finger on 
what I mean, or how I 
say that, it just does  - it 
always acted for me as
a portal to some further 
level of understanding I 
was always able to 
integrate into my own 
life. I'm not saying I 
was ever normal either. 
But, maybe try this, 
try understanding: how 
I've always operated
just out of the realm 
of ordinary. Elmira,
however I ended up 
there  -  and it was all
weird  -  was a breakthrough
place for me. Always. Just
by the accidental account 
of me getting there, and
then finding a real way 
of functioning there, was,
to me, evidence of a plot.
Or a least of 'something'
that had grown out 
through me. Ever since
I was slowly drawn back
from the train wreck, as 
I slowly filtered back into 
this regular, dimensional
life, I realized it wasn't 
the same, and that there  
-  from that point on  -  
would be 'magic' involved 
in each of my steps.
Without that magic, I 
was dead. I couldn't cope.
There were times when 
a broken fingernail would
be enough to ruin my day.
Not for the fingernail, but
more for its evidences, in 
my life, of time. The very
process of time  -  things
moving by, the six weeks 
or so it took, quite tangibly,
to bring that nail back into
some sort of order. That 
was time, and time was 
never good. Elmira had
brought me 'out' of time,
somehow. Other dimensions
of thought and place. The
massive opportunities 
of chance and accident
had played well. I met
Jane Roberts through 
this, Sue Watkins, 
through this, Gandy 
Brody, through this,
Kenneth Koch, and even
Rod Serling. Pretty cool.
On their own and each
level, maybe not much at
all, but each one of them
led me to other things. 
That's what counted.
Inside homes and houses,
minds and places too. 
Sue Watkins came to me
one day, all excited because
some guy named Jonathan
Livingstone Seagull had
visited with her and Jane,
at one of the Seth sessions.
Actually, I guess it was a 
writer named Richard Bach, 
who about that time (1972 
maybe) had some massive 
best-seller out  -  it wasn't 
anything I was ever familiar
with or read, and it some sort
of, evidently, life-affirming,
new age/reality book. I don't
know, but to them his being
around suddenly became
a big deal. For a little while;
then it all turned sour for 
some reason having to do
with reincarnational 
tendencies or the 
voice-patterning of the
consciousness aspects 
from beyond. They 
were all into that stuff,
 though for me it was
all much closer and 
personal. Serious 
thought. It sounds 
silly, but there's a lot 
there, any of those
Seth books can 
knock you dead.
Their point was that 
there couldn't be 'another' 
person claiming the same 
source-point they were for 
getting information 
from 'beyond'. (I'm being
facetious, but only a little).
It went like once he started
claiming the same stuff they
were claiming, one of them
had to go; so the new conflict
immediately brewed itself, and
he left. I guess he had a million
other commitments anyway,
so my never seeing him or
meeting him mattered little. 
I only like one source at a 
time anyway.
Back to that strange landing
that I opened with. What do 
you think of it? 
I (seriously, and with great
thought) view it as a transitional
means of altering this reality.
What is anything anyway but
a rational prognosis of things 
we do not understand.
If I were to tell you that, 
at that same moment, rolling 
down from the imagined fabric 
of sky and time, the thin film of 
reality had been scratched open, 
for those few minutes, and
had taken us in and then 
thrown us back out, and
that for a moment, just a
true second, I had viewed 
another, glorious world, what 
would you say? The first thing
I did, once everything had 
come back to life, was check
the clocks. Was it three minutes
that had passed then? Or three 
hours? Or some vast and other 
imagined period of time? 
What was up, and where 
were we from that point on?

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