Out of mind?

Oh, to be in England - the magic country of wandering houses and wayward hills and flights across time ...

Just as I thought I had read most of the most interesting "time slip" stories taking place in the United Kingdom, I was reminded of another one - of two, actually. (And yet a third one, for good measure.)

It's a story about a vision purportedly witnessed by Dr E. G. Moon, a supposedly "very down-to-earth" Scottish physician, on a certain day in 1935 when he visited one of his patients, the famous Lord Carson, at his home at Cleve Court (Isle of Thanet).

Now, this particular house is said to be haunted.
But what is said to have happened to Dr Moon doesn't appear to be a "haunting" proper. (And what is a "haunting" - or a "ghost", for that matter - anyway? For a few of my thoughts on the subject, see here.)

I found this story here, and since it is uncommonly well written, I think it would be best to let the author of the original text speak:

In 1935 Dr EG Moon, a very down-to-earth Scots Physician with a practice in Broadstairs, was at Minster in Thanet visiting his patient, Lord Carson, who lived at Cleve Court, a haunted house referred to elsewhere in the section. After talking to Carson, the doctor left his patient and made his way downstairs into the hallway. His mind was very clearly occupied at the time with the instructions he had given the nurse about the prescription he had left for Carson. At the front door Dr Moon hesitated, wondering whether to go back upstairs to have another word with the nurse.

It was at this point that the doctor noted that his car was no longer where he had left it in the driveway. In fact, it had been parked alongside a thick yew hedge and that, too, was missing. Even the drive down which he had driven from the main road was now nothing but a muddy track, and a man was coming towards him.

The newcomer on the scene, only thirty yards from Dr Moon, was rather oddly dressed wearing an old-fashioned coat with several capes around his shoulders. And he wore a top hat of the kind seen in the previous century. As he walked he smacked a switch against his riding boots. Over his shoulder he carried a long-barrelled gun. He stared hard at Moon. And the doctor registered the fact that the man coming towards him might have looked more at home in the 19th century.

Remarkably, Dr Moon seems not at the time to have been either alarmed or even mildly surprised by the changed scenery, by the quite oddly dressed man approaching his or the fact that his car was missing. What preoccupied him was the thought of Lord Carson's prescription. He simply turned away, without any concern, to go back into the house. But he did quite casually take one more look at the scene he was leaving. And now, as if by magic, the car was back where it had been and the yew hedge too. The drive was no longer a muddy track. And the man had also disappeared, back one assumes to the previous century. And it was only now that Dr Moon realised that something odd, something decidedly odd, had occurred.

All of this took seconds and so there is every reason to understand why Dr Moon did not immediately go out into the driveway to see where his missing car was. For the same reason it is understandable why he did not speak to the man dressed like a farm bailiff of the past. Dr Moon was drawn into some kind of accepting, hallucinatory state. When he came to - for that seems to be the best way of describing his return to his own time - he described to Lady Carson what he thought had occurred. He was anxious, however, that no word of if should come out in his lifetime for fear that his patients would begin to question his judgement. It was only after his death that the story was revealed.**

Now, this is a fascinating story as it is. But it's this little bit what makes it even more interesting, to my eyes:

"Dr Moon was drawn into some kind of accepting, hallucinatory state".

He seems to have been in some sort of trance, an almost hypnotic state, similar (at least I understand it that way) to the state of mind one often encounters in dreams: the weirdest things seem not only somehow "normal", but often we simply know (during the dream only), why they make sense, why they should be so. This, I believe, is the Theta "state of mind" (actually, a brain wave rhythm).

Salvador Dalí, The Apparition of the Face of Aphrodite of Cnide in a Landscape (1981)

And, luckily for us, we seem to have another story - from the very same region (and found on the same website) - pointing to the very same phenomenon, whatever it is that induces this strange state of receptiveness.

It is the account of a woman called Charlotte Warburton, who is said to have had a "time slip" on June 18, 1968, on Calverley Road, in the English town of Tunbridge Wells (Kent).

You can read the account here. I shall only point out the similarly unquestioning state of mind that she seems to have experienced - because I believe it is the key to such phenomena.

Was it an external factor, something from outside, what caused these experiences?

A third account - not strictly a "time slip" -, about a girl called Naomi Fuller (read it on the same page as the two accounts above) would seem to suggest that there is something about the area itself that, under certain (as yet undetermined) circumstances, switches a susceptible mind into a Theta-like state, which then makes it possible to perceive usually non-observable realities.

But if that were the case, wouldn't there be many more reports of such experiences? After all, timidity or fear of ridicule can only explain so much.

On the other hand, of course, there places, all over the world, where such experiences (be it "hauntings", "ghosts" or whatever one might call them) are reported quite often. Of couse, it is virtually impossible to establish how many reports are genuine, and from those that are, how many were "fed" by self-suggestion, by expectation.

Anyway, such places deserve - and often get - a thorough in situ individual investigation. (However, many seem to show unusually high electromagnetic activity. More on that some other time.)

For those who would fancy having a look at the planetary configuration of Mrs Warburton's purported "time slip", I even made an astrological chart. (Not knowing the exact time of the purported sighting, only that it was "morning", I entered 10 a.m.)

(If you find anything interesting in it, do let me know. ;))

Be it as it may, I think there is little doubt that it is the individual's susceptibility that makes such things happen.

But if you think I am politely alluding to so-called "hallucinations", you couldn't be more wrong. Apparently, there can be shared visions of things normally unseen (this blog is full of such accounts; I would especially recommend reading the entries about Jung, the Andersons and, of course, about the legendary Misses Moberly and Jourdain) - and not all of them can be satisfactorily explained away as either lies or "folie a deux".

So, judging by such accounts, it would be relatively safe to assume that, at certain locations and under certain (undetermined) influences, an external local force (or interplay of forces) is capable of inducing or triggering perception of otherwise unobservable realities external to the observer - and judging by the accounts of odd or uncharacteristic receptivity accompanying these visions, it would be safe to surmise that the mind is perhaps on a Theta-like "wavelength" at the time of the experience.

More on that on a future occasion.



* Unfortunately, it is not entirely clear who the author of the text(s) is. According to the Credits, it could be either W. H. Johnson or John Haverson (or both).

** I have yet to unearth the original source of this account.

All you need is love

No: as you probably suspected, this has nothing to do with the Beatles.
And it is only a coincidence (or is it? I wonder sometimes) that I am writing this on Christmas, the love-fest par excellence - or at least a widely recognised symbolic date signifying love: towards our usual loved-ones and towards the Other.

What happened was that we were here discussing one of our earlier posts - the one about the missing socks - and I was reminded of a "technique" that Cynthia Sue Larson often mentions on her website:

(4) Feel Your Love for What is Lost

While all the previous steps are very important, feeling your love for what you have lost is undoubtedly the most important. While you continue staying grounded and breathing in love, remember all your favorite memories about what you've just lost. Allow yourself the luxury of feeling as much of that love as possible. Feel your heart growing warmer and warmer with those feelings of love. This love you are feeling is the bond between you and what has been lost, and by feeling your love as strongly as you can, you are calling what you love to return to you.

And that's not all. I remember reading somewhere - probably on her website again - about a woman (for some odd reason I seem to remember the totally irrelevant fact that she was from Israel) who started applying the "feel love" technique every time she found herself in a traffic jam, for example. Instead of cursing the other drivers and people on the street, she started developing a feeling of warm love and gratitude towards the "offenders" in any given situation.
And apparently "miracles" happened every time she did that.

I am especially interested in this because I happen to know it really does work.
Nobody,and I mean nobody, is immune to the cataclysmic power of love.
The usual reasoning used by those who enjoy (or so they think) being indignant to defend their wrath - "but if everyone just gives in, how will they ever learn?!" - is inane. This is one situation where the old question, "would you be rather right or happy?" (of which I am, in principle, no great fan), really does apply and makes sense.

Think about it: the feeling of "love" means actively partaking in, and (re)generating, Eros,the unifying force,the all-encompassing power that holds atoms together - that holds the Universe together, with all its dimensions.
And so, it may very well be the only - certainly the most powerful - force to transcend dimensions.

Love your way out of trouble.
(And I don't mean making eyes or flashing smiles for a calculated effect: I mean feeling love in your heart.)
Or at least give it a fair try.

It works.

Blast(s) from the past(s)

At the risk of sounding insane - or, much worse, boring - I just have to register the reappearance of that cat again.

Yesterday evening I returned home. As I went out again, to empty the trash bin, I saw my neighbour's cat jump from the (neighbour's) stairway and disappear into the bushes in front of the house.

I can almost hear you: "She is losing it, the poor thing... She is obsessed with the cat!"
Well, I can't really blame you, especially considering the fact that most likely you don't know me in person. All I can do is to reassure you - again - that it does have exactly the same (very specific) appearance of my neighbour's purportedly deceased cat (which would be a Methuselah anyway, were he alive).

But in case you're interested in reading about it anyway, and certainly for my own benefit (instead of keeping a diary of such occurrences) here are two interesting tidbits that may - or may not - be associated with the cat's reappearance.

For two days before the sighting of the cat I had been, once again, actively practicing - or so I would hope - the "parallel life" thing, so to speak. (See the previous cat-related entry, hyperlinked above.) I must be getting better (?) at it, because this time no headache followed.

And the same day of the sighting I had been awoken by what sounded like a sound from my past that I thought I would never hear again: the sound of a melody another neighbour used to play on her flute, until she moved away, about four years ago. (Other people, unrelated to her, live there now.)
At first I thought I had been dreaming. But as I got up, I heard the flute again. I even heard the passage that always gave her trouble: she skipped a few notes, just like she always did in the past.
It went on for about two hours: the usual time lapse for her daily practice in the past.

As I went out that afternoon, I walked by her house to see if she had returned to live there. (I really didn't know her well enough to just knock on her door.)
But nothing seemed different. The car of the family that lives there now was parked outside the house.

I really don't know what to think at this point.

Bats in my belfry is a very tempting explanation - oh, how easy and pleasant it is to laugh, even (or especially) at oneself! - but it would really make no sense. My mind seems to be working better than ever in every other aspect.

Anyway, I'll continue with my tentative inhabiting a timeline that I like better than this one. In an age when everything seems explored-out to death this may be the last - and ultimate - adventure.

Meanwhile, you can read a fascinating account about an unexpected change in a very mundane reality, taken from a very interesting - and extremely useful - book, called Parallel Universes of Self, by Frederick Dodson.
(You can see the image and other details of the book in the Recommended display on the right side of the screen.)

That morning, I had meditated and shifted myself into a slightly different reality. I was scheduled to go to a hairdresser I had been to many times around midday. Upon arrival, I was astonished to find that a brand-new building had been built right beside the hairdresser's place. "How could they build it so quickly?" I asked myself. I had only been there four weeks ago, and four weeks ago, there was a lawn and a park bench, without any sign of a building or even a planned building. I stood there for a while, baffled and confused. I entered the hairdresser's shop and asked, "When did they build that house?" The staff looked at me incredulously. "Oh, it's been there for a few years, actually. I remember when it was built," said one of them. "It was shortly before Christmas, five years ago." I stared in disbelief. "But wasn't there a park bench and a small grass hill there?" They couldn't tell me or couldn't remember, but they looked at me as if I was mixed up. I could have sworn that only a few weeks ago, the place looked entirely different. After getting my hair cut, I went out to examine the place. Behind the building, everything looked exactly as it had before - except for the brand-new building. Finally, I accepted that I had shifted into a parallel reality, and that the building was a good indicator. It was the first of many physical reality shifts I learned to accept, rather than labeling me insane, as the consensus-reality would.

Well, it's not the first time that a building has proved to be wickedly unstable... :)
Then again, entire hills have been known to disappear (and, who knows, reappear somewhere else?).

Anyway, it would be all too easy to dismiss such accounts as being the consequence of faulty attention. If that were the case, it should also be explained why other segments of the same reality appear unchanged in the eyes of the same observer.

Maybe for some unfathomable reason the author of the account above failed to register the change at the time when the house was built, and kept the earlier landscape intact.
Which would still mean that (at least) two realities can coexist in an observable mode.
Or perhaps even in an alternate - on again, off again - mode?
More on this the next time.

To tell you the truth, I am not very satisfied with this entry. But I wanted to register my experience, whatever it was, while it was still fresh in my memory. Because whatever it is, it is not something that should be neglected.




P.S. As you may know by now, I often edit my entries (again and again and again), as new thoughts occur to me, so don't forget to come back at some later time.