**********************
I tell Led and the rest of my crew that I want to forego the Re-set and retain. I expect questions, to have to justify my decision, but there is only silence.
“Done,” Led says.
And, it is. So fast. So final. I give an inner wave good-bye to my daughter and promise to catch her some other timeline. She seems to smile as she fades away.
I find out much later that, if I choose to keep the Re-set, one central among the major changes that occurs is that I am not able to be the Chief Communicator in this timeline! Without the restriction in mobility and recurring disability, I have such an active and very public adult life, being arrested and publicly speaking out on so many issues, not being such an "outsider," that I am deemed unacceptable to be the CC.
Go figure. I feel even better about my decision at this point, but somewhat bewildered as to how the MWC visits play out if I keep the Re-set. They do not explain. I guess this becomes someone else’s story, then. Maybe I’ll look for that timeline, some day when I have nothing else to do. As if.
Back to my explanations of the rest of the ESP training: Advanced students move through one or more of Levels 9 – 12, which provide training for participants who are eligible for and desire varying degrees of extraordinary abilities and skills to be at their disposal. Some train to become the trainers of those at lower Levels. Level 9s are training to become Level 10s or higher, kind of like practicum student teachers. The 10th level brings participants up to the abilities of MWC elite members all around the multiverse; I’m not allowed to describe the full extent of the skills and abilities on these upper Levels, but a close reading of the above sections and the rest of this book gives you many examples and ideas of what they include.
Levels 11 and 12 have very few members, besides long-term Chief Communicators and our own trainers, members of the MWC Council, and some key leaders in the MWC. Although the group is “small,” we’re still talking millions. Moran's and others' OSOps (OverSeers covert and special Operations) training includes all Levels but is not as complete as mine. That training is more in depth in some skills that mine only skims, but theirs skips some skills all together.
It’s not that the highest Levels are “restricted,” exactly. It’s more that those who are destined, inclined, have the karma to become these types of leaders and trainers are naturally able and willing to keep advancing; the rest are unable or disinterested. Almost everyone who wishes to advance can and will. The few who don’t are stopping at the Level they do for individual reasons, not because they are prevented from advancing. The MWC ESP training demonstrates the best examples of “natural selection” I am ever aware of. I like that the ways students (and not all are human) advance is not determined by some so-called standardized tests or others' (biased) recommendations. This is an all-together better, more fair and appropriate system, for sure.
OSers (Enforcer and Investigator OverSeers) are selected from those who reach at least Levels 4 or 5 with some 7s and 8s skills included. Psi-Warriors' training must include Level 10, but skip some. Fortunately, Psi-Defiers never engage in the formal ESP training, so most are wild, untrained talents, with a mixture of “skills” that range from Levels 1 – 6, at best. A few can “flame” higher but not for very long and not in a very controlled way.
In late February, 2013, I am in my second month, APC. Espe and I have several meetings per month together with my MWC crew; I have several per week on my own with them. In between, I have a lot to do.
I almost always have “homework” between the ESP training sessions. I have seemingly endless reading to do and vids to watch for my education and professional development as the Chief Communicator. Most days, I have some combination of in-person and virtual meetings, calls, other types of contact with MWC members besides “my” crew, all for increasing my capacity for interacting with Earth leaders. Frequently, I am being interviewed and utilizing multiverse media. I also am responsible for keeping my personal connections appropriate.
Starting in January, 2013, and continuing and accelerating after April, 2013, I have multiple face-to-face or internet “face” meetings with Earth leaders and Espe, other media contacts set up by Espe and my own family and friends. I also have to find time to swim laps most days, eat, sleep and meditate.
I’m kind of busy. By the middle of February this first year, I can't remember the last time I play my piano.
These ESP trainings are on a strict schedule, though, and I have to stick to it. So, today, remember, the lesson is telekinesis.
I laugh when I recall how Zephyr and I spend time playing with this for many years; we still joke about it, up until last month, actually.
One or the other of us sticks out our hands or stares intently at something, like a coffee cup, just out of reach across the table. The other notices and says, “Oh! Practicing your telekinesis? How is that going?” “Not so well,” the practitioner answers. Then, if the other is closest to the desired object, s/he is obligated to hand it, physically but dejectedly, to the failure. Or, with a great sigh, the failure reluctantly gets up to get it for him/herself.
Ha! Well, look at this, Zephyr!” I feel the now-familiar release and “pop” in my solar plexus. My invitation lifts the magazine again, more easily and more quickly than last time.
Ringo says, playfully, “Zephyr gets to Level 4 much more quickly than you do, you know, Chief!” Zef doesn't start his training for several months, but Ringo knows how it goes, of course.
“Oh, yeah?” I say, challengingly. “It is on!” I like a little competition; it spurs one on, yes?
“Try snapping,” suggests Diana. “It’s a little harder, but the same concept, really. Ask it come to you.”
“What?” I ask. “The magazine?”
“If you want,” Janis responds. “Doesn’t really matter: something light and small, because your aim and speed control are, well, nonexistent at this point.” I hear them “laughing.”
“Okay,” I say, “I see your point.”
Looking around, I choose the salt shaker which currently sits on the circular, moveable, “Lazy Susan”-type wooden tray on the center of my table. I instill the sense of “allowing,” the closest English translation to the feeling and mindset for this exercise, between me and the salt shaker. I invite it to come to me, mentally snapping my fingers at it and gesturing (my hands do not move), as if it were a dog, ordering the shaker to “come.”
“YIKES!” I shout, as the salt shaker slams into my chest and falls to the floor, spilling salt. “Seven years bad luck!” I say, thinking of my Kentucky-raised, Jewish mom and grandmother. I pick up the shaker and some salt and throw some of the spilled salt over my left shoulder with my right hand, even as I laugh at myself for doing it, since I don’t believe in this superstition at all.
Janis "hears" me and chirps as she reads: “To avoid bad luck from having spilled salt, you are supposed to throw a pinch over your left shoulder. This ‘remedy’ has Judeo-Christian origins and to do with the devil. You throw the salt ‘into the devil's eye,’ and by doing so, blind him and deflect the bad luck and bad health he had in store for you. It's the left shoulder and not the right, because the angels are sitting to the right hand of God; the seat of the devil, who is the fallen angel, is to His left.”
Diana asks, "If you don't believe in this practice, Clara, why do you do it?"
"Habit," I reply, laughing.
Mick mumbles, "Irrational superstition is multiversal."
“Glad you picked something light?” Ringo asks, sounding a bit too gleeful at my mishap.
“Well, yes, but it works!” I retort, kind of proud and embarrassed, both. “Have to practice, I guess. Speed and control, eh?” I turn to Janis, questioningly.
“Yes,” she approves. “You have to put both into the ‘invitation,’ as part of the visualization of the outcome you desire. Picture the entire ‘trip’ before you invite it to ‘come,’” she explains.
?
??Oh,” I say, understanding, feeling a bit humiliated. “That should have been obvious, huh? Poor planning leads to poor execution. Or, to quote Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: ‘If you fail to plan, you plan to fail.’” I remember my 6th-grade teacher's saying this, repeatedly.
There is a brief silence, which I know to associate with one or more of them in “upload” mode. Then, Ringo intones, from “The Song of Hiawatha” (however does he know my teacher has us memorizing parts of this and performing it for the upper classes?):
I am going, O my people,
On a long and distant journey;
Many moons and many winters
Will have come, and will have vanished,
Ere I come again to see you.
But my guests I leave behind me;
Listen to their words of wisdom,
Listen to the truth they tell you,
For the Master of Life has sent them
From the land of light and morning!
I say, “I would have been impressed with ‘By the shore of Gitchee Gumee, By the shining Big-Sea-Water,’ which is about all I remember of that incredibly long poem.” Not only does Ringo nail it in one, but he picks the most apropos part.
“Awesome!” I exclaim, clapping my hands. “That’s kind of like all of your stories, huh?” I look at my crew, shaking my head, in wonder and appreciation. “You MWC delegates are all like Hiawatha, coming in peace, to help us all, right?”
Another brief silence, then Led starts his assent hopping and the others sway for “Yes.”
Janis—Diana, clearly enjoying the performance, recite together:
Let us welcome, then, the strangers,
Hail them as our friends and brothers,
And the heart's right hand of friendship
Give them when they come to see us.
“Yes,” I say. “I am certainly welcoming you, and others have, before I have, and others will continue to, I hope!”
I think, now, of all that I learn from the MWC, all that I share, all that Earthers learn on our own, directly from the resources they give via Access. I consider how close we were, on the “eve of destruction,” as Bob Dylan characterizes Earth so many times. We mess up this planet and our chances of survival horribly before the MWC members allow me to make our contacts public. I am suddenly, again, flooded with gratitude, awe and relief. I feel my eyes tearing up.
“Here she goes,” says Mick. He is the one who reminds me the most of Zephyr, and I laugh.
“I get to be grateful,” I insist. “Let me be grateful.”
“Use the energy of gratitude and continue your lessons,” Ringo suggests.
I take a deep breath, wipe the tears, blow my nose and refocus. This time, I picture the entire journey of the salt shaker, from its perch on the tray to my open, waiting hand. I visualize it moving, not too slowly and not too fast. I picture it coming directly into my open hand, right-side up, perfectly upright. I picture it entering my hand which grasps it easily. Then, I instill the sense of allowing, invite it to come to me, mentally snap my fingers for it to come, and open my right hand.
I watch as the salt shaker takes a hop off the tray and glides right into my hand, perfectly placed. “Yahoo!” I shout, waving the shaker high over my head. “I wish I could ‘high five’ you!” I say.
Brief silence. One of Ringo’s jacinth appendages, near the top of his body, extrudes toward my hand and he attempts to slap the air near my other hand. “Like that?” he asks.
“Close enough!” I say, and I air-slap his holo “hand” with my hand. “Yeah!”
For the rest of this lesson, I levitate, snap, and motivate (all technical terms most of you know, by now) more magazines, the pepper shaker along with the salt shaker (two objects; advanced work), my footstool, then the piano bench. The bench is the final project because I am tired after motivating the entire bench “up” for almost five minutes in a row, up to the ceiling and back to the floor, twice, with a glass of water on it, which I do not spill.
“Enough for today,” Led agrees. I move around, putting objects back where they originated, by hand. “Do you have enough energy for empathy training, too, today?”
I consider. Empathy is one of the main tools of multiverse communication and the centerpiece of all Chief Communicators’ work, everywhere. We never stop training in that. It’s kind of like being a musician: we always do scales or the equivalent for our instruments, no matter how advanced we are. “I am tired, but I have enough left for the requisite ten minutes, yes,” I agree.
The empathy training provided by the MWC is remarkably like the Tibetan “tonglen” training. Tonglen roughly translates to “sending and receiving.” It is often explained in the context of “exchanging self for other.” The main ideas of tonglen as well as MWC empathy training are that, since we all feel emotions, we all feel physical pain, we all feel physical, psychical, and emotional discomfort, we all experience many of the same things, it’s important to recognize our similarities, first. We all want to survive and be happy; we all want to avoid suffering. Simple, but profound. Even that cockroach, even that tree. even the formless ones: all beings want what we want.
Then, it’s important to acknowledge that we can and therefore, once we’re ready, must/should/will want to offer ourselves and our experiences to help alleviate others’ suffering and attempt to increase their happiness. We also have an obligation to understand, from the inside out, every being’s compulsion for survival so that we attempt never to interfere, except to prevent further harm, and always to help. These form the pillars of my Buddhist practice: compassion and bodhichitta.
Pure and ongoing empathy can be accomplished, MWC style, with a variety of trainings to improve one’s visualizations, prayers, “good thoughts,” and other methods, depending upon one’s perspective, abilities, acumen and willingness. As in everything, motivation is fundamental. OverSeers are taught this from Level 1 on; I wish all Earthers were!
Every training starts via breathing techniques and happens by what we do mentally during the breathing. I settle myself in the chair, meditation style: upright back, feet flat on the stool (since mine do not reach the ground), hands flat and loosely on my thighs, head slightly tilted downward, tongue tip touching the front of my upper palate, mouth slightly open, eyes open, gaze ahead and somewhat straight, soft focus. I begin the breathing and visualization.
Immediately, I feel the onset of openness, along with calm, centering, peaceful feelings and the releasing of tensions and restrictions. I sit, in awareness, fully present, doing the exercises (I’m not allowed to describe them further, here, since I’m on Level 9 for these already). Although I’m concentrating on the steps, I still hear the cars go by, the wind, the clock ticking. I’m conscious of the holos’ still being here, silent and tuning in to my mind’s activities, but that one by one, they leave. The ten minutes fly by.
I consider: since humans’ hearts are muscles, then training in empathy is like stretching and recurrently using our most important muscle. Compassion is the outcome of that training: flexibility, stamina and spontaneity result from recurrent stretching and use of this muscle. Yes.
I re-focus my eyes and lift my head and see that only Led is still here. “How am I doing?” I ask, genuinely interested. A brief silence.
“Ready for empathy Level 10 next week,” Led says, sounding pleased. “Your Buddhist practice and knowledge help you move quickly through these lessons,” he tells me, again.
We talk about this frequently since we’re trying to plan, imagining the best ways to bring these trainings to non-Buddhists, non-meditators, non-prayers and others who are somewhat new to empathy lessons and these types of trainings. “I’m excited to begin the training-of-trainers planning for Earthers,” I tell him. “Do I begin creating that along with training at Level 10?”
“Yes,” Led says. “Now, you rest.”
It is almost 9 PM, which is, as you know, ‘way past my bedtime. “Yes,” I agree. “Than
ks, and good night. Tell the others, also, okay?”
Led bobbles in agreement and fades away from my sight.
I prepare for bed. I settle in, say my prayers and set my intentions, confess my mistakes and vow to improve in the future. Then, I “talk” with Epifanio.
Who is not here. I realize he’s not here. But, I talk with him frequently before I am the CC, in my own way of communicating; I know that he is not aware of these conversations. At least, not in this timeline. Many years ago and again more recently, I ask Fanio if he can “hear” me when I “talk” with him. He assures me that he cannot and I believe him. I imagine it would be quite distracting and perhaps annoying, if he could.
Since my new job begins, I am not able to "speak" with him as often (I am sooo tired by bedtime, especially after I meditate). I catch him up on what I am learning, how it all feels. I talk to him about Zephyr and ask about his son and grandchildren. I never ask about his current partner, since, in my favorite timelines, he is either already with me or expecting and wanting to be with me.
Tonight, I say: I really miss you. I wish you could be here and sharing all of this with me. I want you to understand about Re-set so you'll know why things are the way they are. You would also like knowing about and perhaps taking some ESP training classes. I wonder what you are good at already? I wish we could try some out right now!
Since I'm not actually talking to him, I can "tell" him a lot more than I'm actually allowed to share with anyone. It's comforting to talk about these private experiences, even if I'm not talking to anyone who can hear me.
I love you, Fanio. Sweet dreams. Good night.
Some other where, some other timeline, he answers me, lovingly. I know he does.