Looking to the Light

I have a great deal of news to report, which I will go about doing over the next few days, but first, I need to give Greg his own final posting.

It was easier than I thought it would be, to teach Greg how to free himself from the spiritual prisons that we helped to build for ourselves. That's what El Diablito was doing with us on those occasions that we went to his little warehouse shop in Hialeah well after his normal closing hours.

It was a long, grueling and nasty process. There seemed to be an endless array of rituals, body fluids and other foul smelling ingredients brewing in the back room of that shop. I can recall at least three different occasions that I would be sitting there waiting for that little troll to finish some ritual or another and then feel a sharp prick on my back, or my arm. He would use these burned, nasty looking needles to prick us. His smile was wicked as he stared at the red drops of blood dribbling down the needle, as he pranced away to his crowded altars to finish the spell that would create the prison that is now my Chakra.

It was the same for all six of us really, we compared notes on a number of occasions afterwards, but we all went through the process alone. Oh, Drake was usually there as well since he brought each us down to see El Diablito personally, but he always drifted away once the rituals started. Even that cold fish seemed uncomfortable around El Diablito when he really got going in his full regalia.

I thought I was going to have to do something physical in order to free Greg from his Chakra-to-be, and I thought I was going to be doing it on Friday once I read the statement from the detective who had arrested the primary suspect in Greg's killing. Instead, Friday morning while I was in the meditative state that I slip into when I am 'flushing and gushing', I felt John Red Bear approach me from the Underworld. I concentrated and slipped out of my body and darted through the drain in my shower to emerge in our normal meeting place, a shadowy clearing in a darkly overgrown pine forest. He was in his usual form, that of a scarred black bear with a big splotch of red fur that resembled a man's head on his chest. I was in my own form, enjoying the feeling of touching, smelling, breathing once again.

"Brother Bones," he said, "you must meet me in real life, near the city in Ohio named for the Deathbringer, Colombus. There is a museum for the iron steeds you call motorcycles. Meet me there at dawn tomorrow."

"Why?" I asked. "I think Greg needs me now. I don't know how soon the Chakra will be sealed away from easy access."

He stood up on his rear legs, towering over me until he placed his front paws on my shoulders and brought his grizzled muzzle down to look me in the eyes. He snickered, as much as a bear can snicker anyway, and said "Do not worry, the prisons that hold you and your friend can be broken only from the inside. I will show you how tomorrow."

"Really? Are you sure?"

"I am. There is much to discuss, I have other important information for you as well. It is imperative that you meet me, our time will be short. Make sure you donothing out of the ordinary today. Go to work as you would normally, assist your keepers in any way they need you to, but leave tonight. Drive there, do not allow yourself to be followed."

Our conversation went on, but too keep it short and on point, I returned to my body and finished what business I needed to that day, and followed the instructions I was given, both by the Lab Geeks who still needed my help on a daily basis moving Greg's increasingly heavy body around to the different machines they used, and later those given to me by John Red Bear.

I met with him as planned the next morning. I got in his car in the parking lot and we went for a long, twisting drive through the suburbs of Colombus until we came to a large, open park that was pretty much abandoned on a cold Saturday morning in February.

We got out and crunched through the frozen, wet grass. While we walked, he talked for what seemed like hours. Many of the things he told me will be revealed in later posts and in the book that I am working on, but what's important here now is that he taught me how Greg and I could free ourselves from the Chakra devices that El Diablito had constructed. It was both incredibly hard, but maddeningly simple.

Essentially, what kept us trapped within the Chakras was a deep seated fear of that final death, that final passing into the unknown darkness that Drake and his henchmen had been subtly pushing on us since we first joined the program. John taught me that the cord that kept our spirits tied to this device was both as easy to snap as thin fishing line, or as tough as the strongest metal linked chain. We 'merely' had to unravel the chains of our own fears of moving forward into the unknown worlds beyond this one and seek out the Light that lit the way. Uh yeah...just that damn easy.

The reasons for the clandestine nature of our meeting will be revealed later, but I will let you know that there is far, far more to John than he had previously let on, and that I was enlisted fully by him to help in some ways that will soon become clearer.

In the end, I was finally convinced that the solution he had, for Greg anyway, was viable and I agreed to see if Greg would try it.

Early this morning, I went to the office before any of the regulars would be in, and found Greg where I had left him. I told him of the plan and showed him what I could of the techniques that John had taught me. He was eager to try it. He took to the exercises easily. He retreated briefly back into the Chakra, re-emerging moments later, brighter, fuller. He seemed to be smiling as he I watched him work. Soon, I could almost see the cord connecting his spirit to the Chakra grow fainter, weaker. There was one brief flicker, as doubt seemed to creep in, but that faded just as a shimmering tunnel seemed grow from the ceiling. The Light illuminated us both. His spirit seemed to grow in strength as he floated up to it. He looked down at me briefly, a look of pure joy and exhiliration as he cried out-"Mom!"

I can't tell you how much I wanted to follow him at that moment! But as the Light faded, I slipped back into my own body and glanced to my right to see Drake standing there in the doorway to the lab. His expression was that same, bloodless smile that he always had, but I could tell he knew something had happened.

Without a word, he turned and left, the door slamming behind him with a loud bang. Inside I felt a joy that was but a shadow of the joy that Greg felt. "Take that, you bastard." I mumbled.

I looked down at Greg's now truly lifeless body and knew that I had done good. He was at peace at last.

I, however, have a shitload more work to do before I can find such peace.

Dilemma

I have just returned from the office.

I went with Drake and his team (including Dr. Geek and some of his assistants) to the Dallas area, where the funeral took place. It was a long trip, we took a small corporate style jet on the way out--it's much easier for me to travel by air using such means, since there is no way any airport screener would allow me to pass through their checkpoints...even with a Bureau badge and credentials.

On the way back though, I accompanied Greg's body back in the back of a special semi-trailer.

The funeral was very surreal. Going through the ceremonies and seeing his body laying in the casket brought back memories of my own passing. I haven't written about that time yet in this forum, because it was intensely personal, and very difficult. I shall try to talk about it now, because it has important implications in my current dilemma.

When I was killed that night, there was almost no pain. I didn't feel my body after the initial impact. I also didn't see any special tunnel of lights like so many people describe from their near death experiences. One moment I was confronted by a group fo masked punks, the next moment I see a flash, hear a bang, and feel the explosion on my forehead. An instant of splitting pain, and then....nothing but blackness.

In what seemed a time period that stretched into eternity, I lay there in darkness. Hearing nothing, seeing nothing. I could only remember thinking that perhaps I had been right all along...that we humans had no souls. We were born, we lived as best we could, and when we died, nothing...but, as you know now, I was wrong.

Sometime after my body had been picked up and delivered to the morgue for processing, I felt a strange pulling sensation. In a strange, surreal moment, I realized I could sit up. Flexing what felt like muscles, I stretched and sat up from the slab in the morgue. The lights were bleary, blinking and inconsistent. Shadows played in strange ways. The color seemed washed out of everything. I looked down at my hand and saw through it to my flesh still laying lifeless on the table. The part of me that sat up was not my body, but my...spirit, I guess. I was able to get up completely from my body, feeling a strange pull to a box on another table.

I walked (floated?)(moved?) over to this box and saw my bloodsoaked uniform laying inside, with my other personal affects laying there. I felt pulled towards the necklace that I had worn since my last visit to El Diablito in Florida, when he had completed the rituals that had created it. (I now call the amulet that was attached to that necklace my Chakra.)

As I was contemplating all of this, I realized the strange shadows that seemed to keep moving about were actually people! They seemed to come in and out of focus, to disappear and reappear without rhyme or reason. I tried blinking, but it just wasn't the same, I had no real physical sensations anymore. I realized it was me who was the shadow and the shadows were the real people.

I tried calling out, screaming, but no one seemed to notice at first. There was this one woman, a morgue technician, I think, who seemed to pause a couple of times and look in my direction. But she seemed to shiver and shake it off, like she was dismissing a bad feeling or shaking herself from a momentary daydream. The voices of these people seemed garbled at times, and others time rang clear in sort of randomized bits, sort of like having water trapped in your ear, or trying to listen to the words someone is saying while they, or you, are underwater.

This weird transitional state lasted for days. I found that I mostly tied to the amulet, although I could move away for short periods. The farther I moved, and the longer I was away from it though, the harder the compulsion to return became. It also seemed like a slender, shadowy cord seemed to connect my spirit self to the amulet. The farther I moved, the thinner it became.

I have much more to say about this time, but that will be for other posts, or maybe for the book.

My present dilemma comes from the fact that I know that Greg's spirit is near his body and the amulet that was made for him as well. I can SEE and HEAR him like I never could sense such things before. I am torn. I used some of the skills that John Red Bear has taught me to step more fully into the spirit world and talk to him. It was a long ride back from Seattle and we had much to talk about. I need to keep our conversation confidential at this point, but let me just say he wants me to find a way to release him before they finish the project and bring him back fully like they have done to me. He is completely miserable. He also thinks that Drake had something to do with his murder and doesn't want to participate any further.

I think I might know how I could do this, but obviously if I help him like this, I jeopardize much. I don't think I can do it quietly or in a way that won't be figured out pretty easily. I also don't know if he has fully thought out the implications of my acting on his current wish. I don't know if he will feel this way once the process is completed, or if he will change his mind.

So my choices are: 1) let things continue to progress unimpeded and try to comfort Greg as best I can, 2) do something to stop his transition, or 3) let Drake know that Greg can communicate with me now and see what he has to say about this development.

I am leaning towards helping Greg to end his experiment, but I am stll wrestling with these possibilities and seemingly endless combinations.

The Bureau (and Drake) don't know about his blog yet, so what I say here is pretty safe for the moment, but it will one day be discovered as well. When that happens, I don't know how Drake will react, but I don't think it be pleasant!

I will post more on this problem as I can.

Spirit Walking...?

My apologies for the delay in posting, I was unaware that I would be in so remote a location as to lack even cellular service for my new laptop computer.

However, I am now back at our current base camp, and things are much more tech-friendly here.

I am serving with a task force in a remote Western state location. I cannot yet reveal the details of this mission as it still ongoing, and any premature disclosures could bring unwanted attention to our current anti-terrorist activities.

I have however met some remarkable people here. One of the most remarkable is John Red Bear(as usual his name is changed here to protect his identity), a medicine man among his poeple and a very talented scout. When we first met, he was one of the first people to not visibly flinch when he saw my face in the daylight. After the team briefings, but before we left on our assigments, he approached me and asked for a moment of my time. I gladly agreed to speak with him. Once we were alone, he was very blunt.

"Your body and your spirit are no longer one."

I was taken aback for a second, "Yeah, I suppose that would be a good way to describe me right now."

"This body you use, no longer functions well, why do you stay?"

"Hey buddy, this is what I have to work with, what other options do I have?"

He looked at me with deadly serious eyes that seemed to pierce through my body worse than any bullets, "You could leave this clumsy shell and walk free among the spirits. You should be free to roam the lands of the three worlds."

"Look, I don't know anything about your religion, your beliefs, or even what was really done to me to keep my 'spirit' around after I died. Shit, I didn't even belive I had a spirit until they woke me up."

He smiled. "It is not my religion that tells me of the three worlds and roaming of spirits, but my experiences. If you want, I can show you how to free yourself from the shackles of this shell and teach you to walk as free spirits are supposed to."

"I don't know man, this 'shell' is all I got, and I'm not sure I want to leave it anytime soon, I doubt the Pearly Gates would open up wide for my heathen ass."

He shifted his balance and looked me up and down, "Where you would travel is up to you, but I can also show you how to come back to this body and I think I can show you how to be in better control of yourself when you are there."

"Really? You can show me how to set me spirit loose form this body, and to return to it with better control than I have now? How can you be so sure?"

"I can see your spirit even now, and I can see how ill at ease it is within this shell. I can also see that if you do not free yourself from this prison, at least some of the time, your spirit will wither and die, and what remains will be truly dead. I would not see you, or any other spirit, suffer this fate."

I took this in, and felt the truth of his words in the hollowness of my existence since I had been brought back. "What is it like to walk as a spirit, have you done it?"

"I have walked many of the trails of the three worlds since I was a youth. Yes, you can feel things in ways that are beyond my command of your language to describe. Our time now is short, but I will come to you again when there is time to start teaching you what you will need to know."

With those words, he turned and left to rejoin the team that he had been assigned to. My mind was reeling from the conversation that we had just had. It is weird enough to be walking around in the body of an unfeeling robot, but think about being free to walk around as a spirit, or as a ghost!?

My ex, Katherine, was really big into spirits and tarot cards, and all of that New Age crap as I called it. She would probably understand what the heck this guy was talking about, but I had done my best to avoid reading any of the books or the magazines she always left laying around. She was always searching, she said, for her true path. I don't think she ever found it while we were living together, but she sure read alot and experimented with things. Maybe I should get back in touch with her and borrow some of those books. I can just imagine that phone call now, "Hi dear, this is your dead ex-husband, do you still have that book on Native American Shamanism laying around? Yeah, I could sort of use it now..." No I don't think that would go too good. I'd hate to freak her out. I think she has probably suffered enough because of me, although she might have been pleased that I never took her off of the life insurance policies that I had...I did do one thing right, and made sure that Drake made sure she got her settlements from my death.

I am hoping to get together with him again before we head out on the next mission. I don't know how long it will take for him to teach me this stuff, but I am beginning to consider that it might be worth a try.

More reports to follow as time and the mission allow.