Keep to the Love

Updated on July 14, 2018
LaughingRain profile image

Alysia writes of personal experiences of a paranormal venue. She has one book self published and one Ebook.

A Call For Love

I had invited him to talk to me behind the public eye of our daily forum called Afterlife Conversation Board. I suspected there was something bothering him and he couldn't quite describe it, although it was not for a lack of words he put out.


Apparently, a famous guru had made him enter a void. If used properly, it's a good trip. Used wrongly, the pupil can get depressed.

At any rate he felt he'd been wronged by this unnamed guru and he was very upset and now he was biased against anything that came out of the east.

Our first behind the scenes contact came about in this way. My intentions were to help to undo the pain of anger he held and relax the ambitions somewhat so he could get a peek, not at love so much as at a peaceful state of mind, of being. These were entirely lofty goals and now looking back, although I don’t see how I could have thought differently, I could have chosen my words more carefully to make it easier for us to simply move on, understanding there was no game plan for us, insofar as the ways of the world were concerned.


It seems we were both from another time and place and resurrecting ghosts of the past was not going to be beneficial and not in the least romantic, excepting the final kiss goodbye which was both authentic and poignant. It would be not too many years hence anything romantic in me would be but a fond memory of youthful explorations of being and also concerned with this romantic notion, was the idea that the set up here was first to survive, and then to reproduce and we still reproduced almost in an accidental fashion. Sex was a little perk of duality, of lovers, of the earth planet. This was how we kept it turning. I was always asking to be let off of a turning world. The older I got, the less serious I could take the world.

Death Is Not Real

Love, romance, it was but one thing we came here for. While the romance produced a few glory moments, it also produced mayhem and even violence sometimes. We were not a very mature people all in all, if we still thought killing was the answer to the person or circumstance which alluded our fanciful perceptions of ownership.


Valentine be mine was for children, but growing up did not ordinarily happen here. It seemed within the acquisition of the larger body replacing the child’s body the mentality was still immature spiritually speaking.


The body had nary a thing to do with the soul and it’s eternal status; it’s romance with life itself, rather than life partner, what used to be called the helpmate. The one we made special to help us through.


It wasn’t long before I realized this fellow really didn’t need a helpmate. He had achieved so much renown and fortune, there was none who could help him further along in that regard, which is all he knew, as spiritual matters alluded him for the most part. As it is with most of the men I met, there was no clue of the spirit, of the soul, of eternal matters.


No matter what you think has been done to you, at some point you must forgive those whom you feel have betrayed your trust; otherwise you only hurt yourself to keep hashing through that mucky stuff of feeling betrayed or wronged. How trite of me to repeat this idiom, but as trite as it may seem, I am anxious to get the message across after seeing the beneficial aspects of releasing painful moments of life to a greater power.

Hey, Talk To Me

Many years had passed by, he was still caught in the unfairness of it all.

I didn't know what I could do, but I felt he respected me enough that perhaps I could unwind some of that turmoil or get him pointed in the right direction. I would take a chance, because I had a suspicion who this fellow was. I wasn't 100% certain but as time went on, I would be. It was he himself that gave forth of clues of his identity, as it were he gave me confirmation it was himself. Even to the point of naming his name in public, as if that person were someone other than he. This just out of the blue. I didn’t miss a lick in picking it up.

I simply told him in a message, hey, you can talk to me. I told him I was harmless in case he had reservations about speaking to me from behind the scenes. Then I let it go, it was up to him to get in touch.

Therefore when he responded with the question "are you sure you want to do this? After all, we're getting older."

I was startled that he must think I was putting the make on him. Of course, a fellow in his lofty position must have women scratching at his door constantly. But then I was startled as it looked like I would have to explain myself at every juncture, every step of the way that I wasn't after him.

And although I would make efforts to tell him who I was and what I was up to, I would soon tire of offering explanation why I was in his life.

In fact, his question came out as a threat, a warning more than just a mere question. I was discovering at the time I was a true empath. I could pick up vibes from the mere written word; in this case the Internet word. I wasn't the only person who thought it was best to avoid this person because of the screeching negativity he exuded.

No I wasn't the only empath, and I wasn't the only foolish one in his life.

You'd have to know his name, who he was, before you can understand my words and where I'm coming from. I've no doubt whatsoever no one would believe me should I openly reveal his name. I have only a few friends who did believe me, and they did their best to help me through the few years I interacted with an icon in the music business. Without them, I don't know if I would even still have my sanity.

My Face Mask Was Working

I would never hurt him by revealing his nature or the part of his nature I was allowed to see. I think about my own failure to help him in the spiritual region and I ponder on the nature of how we create our own reality. That was the only intention. And finally, I had to turn it over to God, a name for the higher power, the higher knowledge.

I wouldn't be so immature to kiss and tell. I would soon start acting my age and come to terms, nobody needs to know what happened or who is famous and kissing on one who is not.

But when you're young, or even just a bit younger than I am now, you want to tell the world that you loved someone and that they are noticing you. Or if it's not love, if it's just infatuation, you need to go and find out which it is and try to pull yourself together that this one actually showed up in your movie while you thought you had yourself a fantasy only.

And of course, it's dangerous. It depends on the psychological makeup of the person you are interacting with just how dangerous it is. I was an empath so I picked up these vibes across the Internet and like a snake would raise up and ponder striking, that was what his initial words felt like.

No mere flirtation was this, although I would try to make it light that way.

I might have said back then, what has age to do with being able to flirt even though you can't follow through on what the flirtation implied?

What if you're so dumb you don't even know you're flirting? I would ponder his words ceaselessly as if he were from another planet then mine.

I considered the fine line between "helping" someone and being in love with them, or flirting with them and not knowing you did that. Seems it wasn't just him took me the wrong way.

In truth, life here was a set up. A duality set up. Very seldom did man and woman come to the domain of pure friendship. There was always sexual thoughts to sift through. What I was thinking was usually out of time. It was a fresh new world I sought where friendship was first and foremost and sexuality expression was sacred and not to be taken lightly.

What I actually said back was to joke that my face mask seemed to be working. Even then, all things were possible. Later I still retained my knowing all things were possible, but not all things were really that probable. It was to my way of making a non-committal retort. He had taken me off guard with his comment about doing "this." What the heck was "this?" What a world we live in when you can't say hello to an icon without him getting ideas. Here, I was seeing self protection and was reminded, because of who he was, he was always looking over his shoulder for trouble close behind.

Getting Mature In Spirit

Yegads. This morning I was leaking again. My guides told me to watch that. Leaking is to be out of balance in the emotional sentiment category, and gee whiz, it only happens once every ten years, I leak emotion for a potential psychopath. Too weird, when you get a tad obsessed with a dangerous public figure who takes pride in being the tough guy.


The next thing he said later, was "OK, whatever happens just remember to keep to the love."


At the time it sounded like a game plan, except for the whatever happens part, that was another concealed warning that I didn't admit. I thought he was on the right track with the keep to love thing and I agreed but I was crossing my fingers and it seemed out of character for him to make a comment like that.


Age had not matured me to the point where I could be proposing how it was going to be and making the rules.


As a matter of fact, I rather went through life being surprised things just happened. I didn't have many rules, they would just present themselves as adapted means of avoiding future conflict.


I forgot to ask his definition of love. We would never get that far in the game, and trust me, it was a game that I never meant to get myself into. Like I said, shit just happened in my life. The only time I was fortunate in love was when I met the father of my children through the eye portal of the soul. The knowing was exquisite knowing and like the feeling the search was over. This circumstance never occurred again in the long life.


If I’d known what I know now, of course I am being further trite to say, my story would be entirely different.


Well hello then my destructive, proud friend. I am keeping to the love part as you requested, even if you want more love and less of my kind of clarity, It's not that I'm unforgiving, because I can do that, however I usually need help from a greater power with that task. But if you try and tell me you were only joking about the knifing incident in my dream I would know you were lying.

I was being shown your unconscious face while in the act of destruction of another person’s body.

I told you I was leaking this morning. After this leak, possibly and probably this is the final leak.

Only a sadomasochist would love what strikes it down dead. Right.

I'm no psychologist. The field is glutted. Energy, over the years can get very dark. I was also warned of this.

The behavior of kissing my neck in the ozone, although quite unique was not exactly an enjoyable experience; it was more like pins and needles or some kind of acupuncture where the idea was to get healed but instead you were worried of being poisoned.

It was like being in bed with your partner and wondering when he would be through with whatever orgasm he was chasing which had nothing at all to do with what you were feeling and thinking.

What if..What?

Life is very strange, sometimes you get used to it, sometimes you die still not used to it, so you come back as another person just to find out why you couldn't get used to it.

In order to know thyself sufficiently to not make mistakes here, you're going to have to often go through an entire life gathering up dumb experiences like this one here.

If I find out it wasn't so dumb, it would have to come from his lips, and he's the silent type.

I'm not waiting on the edge of my seat, nor even do I want to go see the man after death, hell no. We cannot even be in the same room without having 4 counselors each on both sides intervening in the explosions we produce. We're like fire and water sitting at a card table and we can't play as the dealer keeps drawing blanks..

He sits there, hiding behind a screen of technology, faceless and soundless he draws a line on symbolic paper with a few words uttered that catch my attention squeezed in between a thousand other words "what if..and twice more, like a tired old man, he repeats What if..what if?

The me that is me now, that is not the me he has formed an image of, just wonders what if what? He wants me to fill in the blank. No, can't play that game anymore. He was right in the first place. We are too old for this.

After the part about was I I sure I wanted to do this, whatever this is, he said after all, we are getting old. He was right the first time, but this didn't stop him following me around. He had a way of saying one thing but doing another. Maybe he thought I would change my mind, but no, there was never a reason to change my mind. After a certain point in a relationship, if nothing is making sense to you, your mind just gets made up automatically to shift on over to where all is quite clear, fresh, and feeling good is doable.


Maybe what happens as we age is we get annoyed more easily. It was new to me to be annoyed more easily at the time, while I suspected the guy who called himself "not there" was annoyed his entire life and made money out of this being annoyed thing.


Whatever works for him is fine with me although I find him needlessly head strong and this would hurt people. And whatever manipulations he has going on simply doesn't work with me.

At any rate, in keeping to the love part, that I struggle with like any body else would, I always had wanted to express how entertained I had been by his professional creativity. He was/is a song writer or a poet whichever you choose to call him. In reflecting over his work and the meanings I would place on the pieces, I had to smile at what he was sharing about his relationships with women and about life in general, the not so good parts and the party times both. Putting your life to music is not always as easy as you might think. It seemed easy for him though.


I listened to many artists and it was on one hand I could number the ones who interested me mentally and emotionally when I was much younger.

He did interest me and there wasn't another quite like him. However, there would come a day I couldn’t quite fathom yet. The day when I could no longer tune into him and only sparingly read about him. Too much water under the bridge had passed by.

We all have a dark side, but some have a darker side than others and profit materially from pointing out the darkness to the exclusion of the other side, the Lighter side, the Light path, the positive path. To be cultivating the positive is never to be ignoring the negative; it is a very fine balance we all must learn.


What he longs to hear I shall put forth, so that I can finish this article and with my intention intact, to keep to the love.


Many hours I wondered how he did it. One day I discovered how as it came to me how to play with language to tickle, ignite, tease, cajole, the human being into looking to the positive while being immersed in the darkness.

Not that I had his musical genius. There was a triple talent he had. Prose and beat and melody that worked well.

So impressed was I that left my body in search of him, and it was an unconscious thing I did. I was able to find him and deliver my gratitude for those early days of my life that I was tuning into the music he played.

We now had this bond. For Out of Body circumstances can make a bond the same as we do that here in the physical realm. Unfortunately, he was viewing the younger me that paid a visit to him many years hence.


And so it was he one day found me on the Internet. At the time I had a website talking about my book or the music I had made. Of course my music was sparse but it had a bit of meaning to myself and so it was also on my website.


There a series of adventures ensued I now call book fodder. The adventures would speak of the intensity and drive of this man for the most part which bordered on insane acts and dysfunctional behavior.


My obsession would quickly turn to dismay to discover there just wasn't a lot of flexibility in the man to work with. Bullish you might say, as he himself would say.

Not A Dream, But Not Reality Either

When the bullishness turned to the danger area part was when an OBE turned into a battle for my life blood. As it seemed. Him showing up on forums, tracking me down was just too darn psychic of him. He was clearly by that time the uninvited guest.


Here is where we who OBE want to say, oh, it was just a dream. But we cannot. We have been pushing away the truth about the character of one we favored, to say, he was rather like the king who had a habit of lopping off the heads of his women, and nobody would or could stop him.


If the reader should desire the particulars, of which there were many before I finally "got" it, the message that if someone is trying to kill you, whether in dream or physical life, there are serious incompatibility features there!


We were simply discussing theology, or so I thought, I was trying to explain all along what it meant to me to be on this path that had and would continue to assist me throughout my life, and as unpleasant as the thought was to him, my path was more important to me than a relationship with him was.


The OBE portrayed us sitting in a car having this conversation. When he realized I was saying I had no trust in him to behave himself anymore, and that God indeed, was #1 in my life, I rather fancy he didn't take my words well at all and despite the sincerity I was expressing he began to plunge a knife into my chest over and over in frenzied manner with a dazed look in his eyes.


What with all the chickens in the world available for his plucking, why he had to have this chicken, it is not known.


I at once gathered this was not reality I was in, otherwise I would feel the pain of the knife. What was more important than ever, would mark the end of our sky dating. The message didn't slip away from me this time. It was time to get out of Dodge because wherever I was, it was not where I belonged.


I had done what *ACIM told me we do here; we create a "special" relationship with someone believing that this one person out of billions is the special one who will fulfill all our wishes and dreams of being loved and being happy in a union.


Perhaps making another person special in this world is not so bad, and maybe the part about "till death do us part" is where it goes so badly haywire.


Perhaps he thought by snuffing me out, he could snuff out his pain at thinking he had failed to gain my favor. Then surely the “ego” he did not believe in, was blatantly displayed and it was seen, as it is in many here, that a human can easily kill the object of desire. And this is not love. This is the dysfunctional planet. Where love is not love, but tries to act like love. Tries to fake it until you make it scenario.


I had spent some time observing him and saw he did not think killing someone was wrong. We wouldn't have many deep conversations as I disagreed that killing was necessary in any circumstance other than defending your immediate person, where it was either you or them was going down.

*ACIM A Course In Miracles

I Can Only Change Myself

This was a different killing scene. Not to be confused with offense and defense. This was two people discussing theology when suddenly you are fending off a knife attack. Because my preferences were seen as going up against his own.

Ah, so, I see said my soul. This, then is another fine mess you got yourself into!

For I would not blame the unconscious being here and clearly he was not in his right mind.

Obsession over. Special person, not so special anymore. Feeling special because a special person paid attention to me was over too.


Here was one who would rather be right than happy. I was sure I could make him happy, but not by denying myself this theology in favor of whatever theology he might have had. It was never about making choices between this or that on this planet, it was rather about allowing people to believe, to build, to make mistakes, to keep on keeping on without being molested, tortured, bullied, killed, etc and so forth. It was about tolerance.


We needed that. Bad. As it were, tolerance would only be a prelude to what we all wanted.

So this adventure was in a sense a retrieval attempt. I was interested in helping him cross the astral plane after death, which was approaching for both of us, and crossing the astral was to be able pass go and collect. It was to go through the life review not after death, but before death so that when transition occurred there would be no need for reflection of mistakes made. Because the self work had been done already. You can see it this way if you want; having a buddy system to make leaps across the astral domains, is more fun than going it by yourself, but the two must be in agreement about the basics of theology.


We just didn't agree who was retrieving who and that is where a good laugh is called for!


Never be ashamed if you cannot retrieve someone. Give yourself credit for the effort. And try to stay alive! Give yourself credit you made it this far. Tomorrow is always a brand new day.


What ACIM is trying to explain by the term making someone special can be difficult to make understood to the average person who believes there is only one person in the world for them.


There may be several soul mates for you. The art of unconditional loving is to realize the difference between lovers and true soul mates and when a true soul mate is found, you can do nothing but honor one another in silence and be glad for their arrival. There is no fuss made over differing theology pathways. Rather you take an interest in theirs, or you agree, to live together does not require to believe the same things if it is going to cause dysfunctional behavior such as violent acts of aggression, the antipathy of unconditional love.

To be angry with a brother is uncalled for in most circumstances. To be angry is to go unconscious. Here on this planet we are waking up at this time about this common knowledge and how to have peace on earth, not just 10 or 20 yrs of peace, but eternal peace. We are looking truly to bring heaven to earth. We are waking up.

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