I am an officer in the Militia and an accountant but I don't do the army thing anymore. I kinda wish I could let my hair down like you. I'm a hippie at heart.
Followers and flower children in the most part. Just do what makes sense; it'll stand you in good stead. The late twenties or early thirties man that I was drawn to, said wisely.
Yes, I certainly do that. I like Sartre's saying 'Love is absent space. He didn't respond and I really wanted him to talk with me. So, you've led a very interesting life, haven't you?
They want you at the bars. Who are you? I heard something on the pipes that sounded like 'the guy who Loves jail is back'; is that you?
I went to the bars at the front of the cell and talked to an older guy who had been in the hospital ward a couple of months earlier. I barely remembered having talked to him, but he was the retired guy who would throw a brick through a store window and sometimes wait for the police to bring him to jail. He told me that about seven people I knew were back in jail. They wanted me to know they remembered me. I thanked him heartily and shook his hand through the bars with both of mine. I told him to thank the other people for their having remembered me and that I could have avoided jail by doing what the cop had offered. He knew that the others would like the fact that I valued what I had learned and experienced that much. As I walked back to my bed I smiled a lot. I knew I had made the right decision to let life bring me whatever was waiting for me, it felt like another good thing was about to happen.
So, my name is Bob Baird. I'm here for the weekend and yes, I am the guy who Loves jail. I don't believe in paying parking tickets for unmarked zones, and there is no other place to park near where I have lived. More illegal taxation without representation.
Maybe we should have another tea party?
Are you from the States?
No. But I spend a lot of time there. I am an actor and writer.
What's your name?
I use different names. Kyle Edwards or Ed Kyle - Whatever you like!
Kyle. I like that! So you are a writer. I've written some thoughts about the dimensions of energy that surround us and even a sort of journal/biography but I know I can do a lot better.
It is a real craft that requires a lot of dedication and a tough skin to handle all the rejection. I'm working on one right now, in my head.
It was fifteen minutes later that I realized I had been working on his book with him. He said very little and listened with no particular sense of amazement that I was reading his mind. I had read all there was on ESP and parapsychology but still didn't accept it was a fact without personal experience. It was a watershed event for me.
Say Kyle why don't you read my mind. I've almost finished your book. Can you do that too?
Sure, it just takes a little trust and willingness to make a mistake now and then.
He waited for a minute then began to give me advice on sex and my relationship with Myrna. It was very specific and somewhat embarrassing for him to know how inexperienced I was. That would have been enough to say that my trip to jail had been better than the last time. Much more was to transpire as a result of Kyle and his influence. It is only recently that I have a better idea of the extent of it. That is thirty years of thought. I hope the reader takes a little less time to accept the possibility of these things. However, I expect some people will reject the possibility or be left saying the same things I had said before this ESP event. I need to experience it myself!
That kind of skepticism is fine, if the mind doesn't seize up and deny its' powers of observation and relationship with t he soul. Before I say what it was that makes this such an important event in my whole life let me tell you some more about Kyle; who I stuck to like a leech the whole time I was there that weekend. He didn't want to tell me how to get in touch with him after I left. I am sure he was a little worn out by my enthusiastic pursuit of his wisdom. Some of what he told me was too incredible to put my mind around. Don't be afraid to admit you feel the same way, and yet don't close the mind to the possibility. That is all I have asked the thousands of people I have shared this event with over the last thirty years. Kyle had been a paraplegic at the age of five. One day in his Quebec home with his nurse in attendance, a fire truck went by.
Kyle look it's a fire reel!
He rose from his wheelchair to her absolute surprise. Later at the age of eight or nine years old he participated in the Canadian National Diving Championships. He won the junior and intermediate title and was allowed to compete with the seniors. In the process of this competition he banged his head on the platform. The X-rays showed that he was a paraplegic, the doctor ordered a new set and they maintained a close scrutiny to ensure no further foul up happened. The new X-rays were identical. Kyle never graduated from high school yet he became a teacher in the prairies. He was an animal trainer and his description of his ability to relate with animals was something I had read about and Crocodile Dundee did with animals in the movie which came out two or so decades later. This is the key ingredient in the rest of this story. I guess that sounds a little like the radio host Paul Harvey.
When I left the 'Don', I saw a cat near the sidewalk ahead of me. It was an orange and white tabby that didn't move out of my way nor did it come for rubs from my outstretched hand. It winked at me with one eye and I received a flash of enlightenment. The knowledge of what exists in the lowest form of life is ruled by the same principles and rules that impact the more complex creatures. Knowledge is not comprised of words or logical constructs and when fully integrated it appears quite simple. That is the nature of principles. Seeing or feeling the white light in Yoga has an element of this, as does the Near Death Experience. This was more than that!
In a mere fifteen seconds my head was filled. I may only have been able to incorporate a small portion of what it offered yet it seemed almost to be the kind of divine illumination that many ecstatic religions report. It was something I pondered upon for many years. My current attitude about it is that it was not the level of knowledge that I would have gotten at the most complex level of life, but rather one or more steps beneath that. James Redfield's book the Celestine Prophecy told a nice story that incorporates the knowledge of the Enneagrams. Around the early 1920's Jesuit priests brought this knowledge o ut of Persia. It is probably related to the Magi of Zoroaster and the three wise men of the Bible. Redfield does not include mention of the Enneagrams in this book and I have not read his follow up books to know if he gives them credit there. If he does that is nice; but it might also threaten a lot of people if he did.
His book takes a person through the plant and animal knowledge of the laws of nature and dimensional reality of energy and the soul in a beautiful story ending in de-materialization. De-materialization and ascendancy or what the Bible refers to in part as Resurrection are human adept potentials. The Enneagrams are also able to be expressed in the purest form of language - mathematics. I have had occasion to look at the work of one scholar who had done this. He agreed with me on almost every point related thereto.
However, when it happened to me I did not know about the Enneagrams and I thought it was a 'Cosmic Consciousness' or direct cognition of even greater proportions. I had read R. M. Bucke's book by that title and it had led to some calling me the 'Cosmic Kid' a few years earlier. He details a man who disappeared before scientists in that book or in other writings shortly thereafter. This man did it in front of police and many skeptics 29 times at McGill University in Montreal where Bucke was a psychiatrist. Bucke is the man who worked with Walt Whitman to end straight-jacket uses and treat people with respect. The Movie 'Beautiful Dreamers' is well worth watching and tells this story in a London, Ontario asylum. Eventually this man didn't return as he said would happen.
Around this time a friend of mine and I were playing shuffleboard at The West Hill House. His brother was also named Ed. Ed had just completed his History Master's degree. He was one of those who called me 'the Cosmic Kid; he was a good guy who enjoyed poking fun at my ambition to make a real difference. At one point about five years befo re, he had said I was 'The Man of Steel' - 'Artificial limbs'! It took me a long time to get the meaning beyond the joke. People really saw me as some kind of driven individual who feared nothing and Ed thought I was off base and due for a truly unhappy life. That evening as we played shuffleboard and drank some beer, started with him bragging about his knowledge of history. To make a long story short I heard years later that he had gone to a Cambodian lamasery shortly after our discussion that night. He spent eight years there I am told, I have not ever spoken to him again and only his brother a couple of times.
The Cat:
the cat meowed and moved slowly out of his way
he knew it wanted something
but it didn't come to his outstretched hand
so he meowed
she winked
he felt
they parted friends
perhaps never to meet again
the Earth was pliant under foot
the trees engulfed his heart
and took his mind to the tr ee tops
so his soul could feel, forever
the timeless beauty and purpose of life
~ the relative unimportance of his human fears
and frailty
she stood next to him
in a place far away from the cat and the trees
in a town where spirituality is raised to a new high
he felt the cat's friendship and wisdom
he knew how unimportant his worries were, and the roots
of the tree...
seemed to tie their feet
entwined; lovingly
with certainty and timelessness
he awaits the mountain top with excited anticipation
still fearful, he might fall
~yet fully confident
in its rightness
Myrna returned from California and I was so excited and 'in Love'. I had no basis for comparison. I had told myself I wouldn't marry until I was twenty-five or at least until I had enough experience to know what I was doing or not doing. I had witnessed many people get involved with the first person they fell in Love with. The not-doing part was what I was most focused on. What would I miss? How could I dare to think that I knew Myrna was the best person for me, or I for her? I had not 'put a flower in my hair' and walked the streets of Haight-Asbury or traveled much at all. Our relationship was something beyond just great sex or sharing the light of our souls. I was to know how stupid I was later in life and even to this day I still say, she was my best 'fit'.
She started taking Yoga classes and went to a tea leaf reader. The tea leaf reader told her she would meet a man name John and go on a long trip. I told her that John was my brother but despite the fact that I would be going - she wouldn't. I told her that her career and life was too established to risk on what we would be doing. John had not written and no one knew what he was doing. I knew that this was going to happen though. I had told a woman I met at Wasaga Beach the summer before, the same thing. She was a nurse from Buffalo and worked in a psychiatric hospital.
Thus even though I Loved her and was totally committed to her sexually, I insisted that Myrna date other men after a few months; because I saw she was as serious as I felt. It was a mixture of heaven and hell. Here I was knowing everything was RIGHT but not knowing if I knew that it was true! I also knew I had to be honest and to protect her from doing something she might regret later. This kind of 'playing God' thing was the greatest stupidity as viewed from the perspective of many people. Her friend Charmaine who I met three years later, after Myrna had married Carl, who she started seeing at this juncture, told me:
You had the chance of a lifetime. She Loved you in ways I can only imagine. Now you are the loneliest person who knows he'll never find someone her equal.
It is hard for most people to imagine that I was so sure of the future that I was out of work and writing a book, willing to leave someone I Loved with all my heart (and now I know - soul). If it weren't for the fact that I was completely lucid and logical, indeed too much so, I am sure my father or someone would have insisted I get help. I think Jim really liked Myrna and Loved how I felt about her. Everyone I ever saw meet Myrna Loved her and was impressed. It wasn't so much her beauty, which was evident enough that she never had to show off. It was more of a warmth and open wisdom that touched people in exactly the opposite way to my 'in your face' enthusiasm.
John returned the same week I finished my book, which I believe was titled 'The Cosmic Kid'. It disappeared in Virginia about four years later. I had been living on welfare because my Unemployment Insurance had not arrived as it should have. The social services officer called me in after a couple of months and told me he was getting pressure to have me look for work. He was one of the few real humans I have met in bureaucracy. He was almost my c heerleader as I explained about completing my book and waiting for my brother to return even though he hadn't written or called. He told me he would stand behind what I was doing. I told him I appreciated it and that I would not look for work while I was busy. If I wanted work I could easily have found it. The Unemployment money arrived that same week. I was paid double what I was due. A year or so later they noticed this and I paid them back. But at that moment this money became enough to get John and I to Miami to start our new business. I guess I am getting a little ahead of myself sometimes but this was just another of the kinds of kernels or co-incidences that are so much a part of my life. John came back and met me in my bedroom in the basement of my fathers' house on Meadowvale Road. He told me what he had been working on for a minute and I smiled.
Yes, we will do this together. It doesn't matter about the details you'll have a lot of time to teach me. I hope th at Stuart will be willing to work with me in some kind of ownership position based on results.
You don't need to hear more?
I have been telling people for a year that I would be traveling in the U.S. working with you. I want you to meet Myrna. She can tell you about a tea leaf reader who said she would meet a man named John and go on a long trip.
We met Myrna on University Ave, up the street from where she worked at Hydro in the Public Relations office. She wanted to leave her secure job and was willing to work with me even though she knew only what John told her about the product. It was a public relation/promotional piece called a 'City Character Map' and her P.R. experience would have made her a more likely prospect to succeed in its' sale. That wasn't why she was willing to give everything up at the drop of a hat and leave with us right away. I will never forget the pain in my heart or soul as I saw that she would give up everything for me.
John d idn't know how much we Loved each other and probably thought it wasn't his place to tell me what I should do. I sensed he knew I was making a big mistake. Hell! I wasn't sure I was doing the right thing! But I had to make her certain that we were through and that I was happy to be going off on my new life without her. She had every right to pursue her relationship with Carl, who was to move to Pittsburgh and start a new life; a year or two later they got married.
Another 'freaky' thing that John had confirmed from the 'horse's mouth' so to speak. Myrna had been diagnosed with liver disease before I met her. They had told her to come back in six months for a pre-operational biopsy. We met before that happened and when she had the biopsy there was no damage to her liver. They had expected to remove one third of her liver and had no explanation for the cure. I was told three years later that she had had to have this operation. It was over a year after the meeting on Unive rsity Ave when I last felt Myrna in my soul; while I was working in Columbus or Dayton, Ohio. I almost cry as I remember knowing she had said goodbye to me psychically that day.
It really hurts to remember these things. There are images of lying in fields and watching planes overhead that had been watching us. Scrabble games that never were finished and the juices that covered me from breast to knee. Smiles, caresses and dreams of what life was or could have been collide in randomness driven by loneliness and near desolation of denial. I denied my own heart and I'll never forgive myself for such stupidity. I can only excuse myself by saying I was too inexperienced. How could I have known?
Author of many books available at Lulu and World-Mysteries.com.
Author:: Robert Baird
Keywords:: Enneagrams, Love, Sartre
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