This Changes Everything
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
What Happens When we Die?
Clara Learns About Return and ReInvolvement
October 1, 2015
“As part of the ESP [Excellent Skills Program] training, Levels 5 – 9, students learn about Return and ReInvolvement as ‘Reincarnation,’” Ringo explains. “But, once you get to Levels 10 – 12, which are restricted by karma and acumen to very few students, it is important that you understand more viscerally, physically and emotionally as well as mentally.”
“Okay,” I agree. “What does that entail?” We are sitting in the living/dining room area of Epifanio’s and my new house. This is our first major ESP training session here since it is finished and I’m so glad we’re here for this. We need the privacy and possibly, the larger space. My rented cottage in Kirov is wonderful and I think of my/our years there with great affection, but it is not private since the property is shared with the landowners, often has landscapers and friends of theirs and is next to a somewhat busy thoroughfare. It’s also a lot smaller.
Our newly completed home, designed by my wonderful, creative husband (with some help from me) and built mostly by him and some friends, is beautifully spacious. Natural light streams in from its remarkable viewing windows. Our property is quite remotely situated, and our home is even more isolated on the property. There is no chance of anyone’s coming here without express permission from one of us. The long road/driveway is gated and the entrance to our portion is guarded.
I never think of living somewhere like this. However, as CC I learn the hard way that I/we have to have some protection from unscheduled visitors, curious wanderers and the occasional Trencher.
It's quite a grand plantation we have here. The OSes have their main bunkhouse here and we have 24/7 guards. We also have two helipads, an ambulance bay (hope we never need that), and a small airstrip, hidden from the main buildings. This globally funded, 90-acre parcel has several other buildings on it that house various Global Unity Leaders Council members and staff for projects and overnight work with a large meeting room and several conference rooms. There are also a server building with tech support, two staff cafeterias and one for ESP and OverSeer trainees plus a semi-public restaurant (entrance by invitation only). We have two electric charging and fuel stations, several multi-vehicle garages, landscaping sheds, greenhouses, gardens, two swimming pools (one just for laps), several ponds and many other outbuildings, with staff to work from them all. I/we have drivers, chefs, landscapers/gardeners, pool maintenance and greenhouse tenders, cleaners/custodians, techies and administrative assistants.
Espe has her own cottage and office here as well. We have several guest houses for family and friends, visiting dignitaries and consultants, all with shared chefs, cleaners and other staff. Job creation!
For the ESP training, I'm not only still receiving training and needing to practice my budding skills, I'm also one of the few Earthers who is ready to be providing training at the newly opened ESP training facility on this property. At this point, I don't teach regularly; I guest lecture, do demos, answer questions and put in appearances; that's all I have time to do.
Before we purchase and begin designing the ESP training facility and make decisions about what other components belong on this land, we spend several months preparing. In my research and through my previous training years, I learn a little about the training exercises in ESP’s Levels 10 – 12: they’re arduous, time-consuming, challenging, oddly appealing simulation exercises that make virtual reality seem like a 2-D cartoon experience. The simulations can be loud, need a lot of physical space, involve numerous other beings, locations and circumstances as they expand to include many timults and possibilities. There are other, spontaneous requirements I can’t list here. I have not-so-secretly re-dubbed these Levels the “Extraordinary Stamina Portion” of the ESP trainings.
I look around, and as I look, Janis—Diana, Led and Mick appear, right behind and around Ringo. It is about 6 AM my time. Best time to learn.
“Hi, Everyone!” I greet them. Each of them wiggles, bobbles or otherwise extends a physical greeting to me. “Are you here for my training or something else?”
Janis says, “Your training, this time.”
“But,” Diana adds, “after that, we have some other business.”
Led explains, “We want you to have a public event this fall, welcoming some new CCs from other locations. We need to talk about when, where and other logistics.”
“For now, though, carry on with Return and ReInvolvement,” Mick exhorts.
I think he sounds downright excited, in his dry wit kind of way. I start to feel that pleasant but agitated tingling and fluttering that I name “anticipatious” when I am in junior high school, and there is still no better English word I ever hear for this exact combination of eager anticipation plus anxiousness.
“Clara?” Led probes, “Calming breaths, open and spacious awareness, relaxation protocol, please.”
Just hearing his simulated voice soothes me; I don’t know what it is, but the only other people to have that effect on my psyche are Lama Sangyay and Epifanio. Led explains to me, when I ask him how he does this, something about ultrasonic waves that find and calm my neurotransmitters, along with suggestive pheromones. Whatever. It works, even via a hologram. I do the breathing exercises and drop into awareness, which seals the deal. I am now as calm as I ever get.
“Let’s roll!” I say. I continue maintaining awareness, breathing slowly and regularly. I feel my body getting lighter and looser. The room seems to expand, the walls seem to move further away from where I’m sitting, which is a comfortable, padded rocking chair. My impressions of the seat and back of the chair fade as my home’s interior environment changes into an entirely different locale. Without deciding, I stand up and look around.
I am in a very large hall, the size of a Broadway musical theater but without a stage at one end, although there is a raised platform in one section. There are many areas, too many to count quickly, with thousands of humans and other beings interacting and talking in each section. The noise would be deafening, I imagine, but so far I am not hearing anything, just seeing. Lack of audio is typical for early timulting so I am not surprised by the silence.
I look down and notice that I am not in my 61-year-old female body, not Clara Branon. I keep breathing, becoming even more spacious, to check with my InKC [Inner Knowing Center, Level 6]. Ahh. Clothes are male, early 19th century, upper class, educated…. Oh. Doctor, surgeon, something medical. Professor? Yes. Medical school professor, Dr. James Woodhouse, University of Pennsylvania, USA. It is 1809 and I am dying, already dead, which is the reason I am in this hall.
Most of us here are dying or already dead, but not yet ReInvolved or not yet on the next Return. Also here, though, are our close connections. I am surrounded by former students and colleagues, my wife and children and grandchildren, my parents and siblings, some of whom are already dead in these incarnations, but because I am dying, they re-appear in these forms for my benefit. I know these facts just as I know who I am, from InKC, but, also, new information is flowing into me by being here in this hall for this simulation, as Clara.
Even though it seems I am in this hall, I know I am still in my house, surrounded by The Band, so I raise my head and ask: “Sound, please?” As soon as I finish the words, a low roar greets me, the sounds of conversations, laughter, sobbing and other interaction noises of thousands of beings together.
For some of us, this is our final encounter in these forms. The people immediately around me are all talking, to me or about me, as James. I respond easily and agreeably, comforting some, releasing a few from responsibility, promising to reunite with several. The conversational turns come automatically, as if I’m watching while he is talking.
Meanwhile, I’m also noticing the layout of the hall. Some groups and individuals are progressing toward an exit walkway while others are coming in through another entrance.
As the departing individuals
are leaving, some are stopping at what appears to be a large, open book, running a finger or otherwise touching the open pages, up and down some lists, exclaiming or reacting in various ways to what they find, turning to share the news or keeping it to themselves, then walking all the way out of the hall. Some walk with more bounce, some seem to slump, pause, and walk more slowly after seeing the list.
Some don’t even break their strides or seem tempted to look at the list. These beings just stroll out, arm-in-arm with someone or alone, unconcerned about whatever is in the book.
The book. I breathe and the information flows even more quickly. What is in the book? The lists. The names. Associations, planned encounters, relationships by blood, choice, employment, geography or other paths. Plans for each person’s Returns or ReInvolvements in their next forms, their next incarnations.
I look around once more and notice that some are not going toward any of the exits and are not with any groups. These individuals (not all human) are moving toward that elevated platform near the center of the hall, whose elevation and size change, depending upon the numbers or types of individuals on it.
When I first “arrive” there are only two beings on it. Now, there are about a dozen, some with larger bodies than humans which makes the platform higher and larger than it is earlier. What is the platform for and who is on it?
Labels for these types of beings flow through my consciousness—angels, guardians, spirit guides, bodhisattvas, light beings, archangels, immortals, gods/ goddesses, titans, tuatha de dannan, grail royalty, mazur, olai, pala, deities, bwete, orishas, guanches—too many to list here. I suddenly remember the 1980s movie, Cocoon, which depicts each elderly human as being the custodian of an inner being made entirely of light, waiting to be freed. I can feel the inner goodness of each of the beings on the platform which leads me to understand the reason they are not leaving the hall. They are gathered on the platform for a different purpose.
As soon as my conclusion thought is formed, the group on the platform makes a circle, each facing outward into the hall. Each being focuses attention to particular individuals or groups. As each of the platform being’s attention is focused, the subject of their attention lights up, glowing slightly yellowish-white. These, then, are their ‘charges,’ the ones they are claiming, planning to reincarnate in order to guard or guide, contracting for their next Returns. That means that the platform beings are electing to Return, but not be typically ReInvolved for this cycle or however many cycles they choose.
How is a being deemed eligible to Return? Is it similar to the ways Tibetan and other Buddhist bodhisattvas become eligible to be tulkus [Intentionally reincarnated Tibetan Buddhists, Tibetan]?
I hear Led, in my mind, saying, “Another lesson, Clara. Time to end this one.”
“Wait!” I say back to him telepathically “I have a few more inquiries to make. Please?”
I feel his assent so I return to my scanning of the room and its activities. I focus on the books and their perusers, entering their hearts and minds to learn how this process feels to them.
One young woman is lightly running one finger up and down the lists, turning pages rapidly, looking for someone. When she finds the listing, she stops, caressing the section with that finger and crying, quietly. Not sad, though; relieved. It’s her child. She’s found where and when her child’s ReInvolvement is to be. Not with her, or she wouldn’t have looked through so many pages, since no one else has had to do this to find their own listings.
The book is available to beings headed for ReInvolvement as we leave the hall. The hall is like the Tibetan bardo, the place between, a way-station for those that are transitioning from one lifetime to another, one form to another, one purpose to another. But, apparently, we can also choose to research other loved ones, to check on their welfare, location, ReInvolvement circumstances. I don’t see many doing this; perhaps it’s only allowed for parents of young children or others who die very young. I plan to ask about this.
I notice another, a male gorilla, touching the book and seemingly absorbing the information rather than reading it. He seems happy afterward and walks out jauntily. Behind him is a being I can’t label, vaguely resembling Janis—Diana, but not the same, exactly. This being also leans onto the book facing forward and also absorbs information. Steps back, pauses, leans in again, seemingly unsatisfied. I detect a mix of feelings: confusion, uncertainty, disappointment, loss. But, none is very intense. After just a few moments, it moves away from the book and walks on, slowly, then more quickly. Feelings do not remain long or get very intense, here.
“Okay,” I signal to my Band, “Beam me up.”
Immediately, the hall and all its occupants disappear. I am back in my home, on my chair. It’s a bit disconcerting, so I wait for my senses to catch up to the switch.
As I wait, I recognize that a swelling tide of information, emotions and reactions are roiling just beneath the surface of my attention. I breathe deeply and deepen my meditation to get “under” all that and avidly watch it all emerge.
“Oh!” I exclaim, “It’s amazing! No wonder the tulkus have such a relaxed view of living, dying and being reborn. Each ReInvolvement is so brief when you are immersed in the full scope of all the lifetimes and timelines.”
I pause and breathe into another layer. “Our lives are so much more painful and poignant, but, at the same time, bearable in their brevity, because great amounts of love and strong bonds can exist in just one Cycle. We have so much to do in each ReInvolvement and so little time to accomplish our goals. We barely figure out what we’re doing and how to do it and, then, it’s over.”
“And, the ‘book’ isn’t really an actual book, is it?” I ask.
Mick moves one of his appendages in what I recognize as assent, so I continue.
“Each being who touches it or encounters it opens the personal connection so that the information displayed becomes relevant to that being, right?”
Another assenting move, by both Mick and Ringo.
“Great system,” I say, approvingly. I consider for a moment, then continue.
“The beings on the platform and that whole set-up—the hall, the pods of beings who are clustered and communicating, the platform, the book—are metaphoric constructs my mind creates for my own understanding, yes? Not really 'there'?”
More assent, from them all, this time. Led starts bouncing a bit, which I always see as encouragement.
“Do some of the Bodhisattvas or angelic/guide beings have assignments that are personal, and some are more global or interplanetary? Do they select their charges or assignees?” I inquire.
“The way this works, Clara, is that ReInvolvement is for all beings, but only some are eligible to check the ‘book.’ Those on the ‘platform,’ as you term these experiences,” Ringo explains, “are Returners who are not choosing that because they are eligible not to choose ReInvolvement. Returners become available to individuals, species, planets and other locations as their acumen and inclinations shape them to be.”
“Then,” Janis continues, “beings who are receptive, aware, intuitive or otherwise ready to detect the presence or even communicate with these helper beings are in indirect or direct communication with each one, depending upon each being’s abilities.”
“Some of each being’s capacity relates directly to attainment of Levels in ESP, more or less,” Diana puts in.
“So,” I say, slowly taking this all in and integrating it with what I already know and believe, “if I or someone else reaches ESP Levels 10 - 12, we can see, interact with, communicate with and directly encounter helper beings?”
Mick interjects, “There are ‘childhood’ exceptions.”
“What are those?” I ask.
“The youth of any species can 'leap-frog,' as you say, over a lower ESP Level attainment right to a capacity to have direct communication with helper beings, especially when they’re young or if their time in that incarnation is briefer than usual,” Mick
says.
“That’s great,” I say, feeling immediately the rightness of this exception. “You know, this couldn’t come at a better time, for me.”
Led asks, “What do you mean, Clara?”
“Well,” I explain, “Right now, it’s October, 2015, for our lesson. But, as you know, I timult quite frequently on my own, even BPC [Before Public Contact], and I’m writing about a lot of our encounters, The Transition, and our ESP training lessons before we even meet. Today, for me, is also April 6, 2012. In two days, I get a call from my dear friend, Robin’s, husband, to tell me she is dying. I go on April 17 to be with her for some of her last few days. Because I have this experience in a few timultaneous dreams on April 5 – 10, I can write this Chapter for my Volumes before I go, bring it and read it to her.”
Led reminds me, gently, “Clara, you need permission to give advance notice of our contact and your lessons.”
“I know,” I say, in an exaggeratedly patient voice, while smiling, “I’m getting that right now, aren’t I?”
There is one of those overly long silences, which means Led is checking with his superiors at the IGC [InterGalactic Council]. I wait. I believe, if Led could make a throat-clearing sound, he would, right about now.
“Um, well,” Led returns to speaking, “Certainly. Particularly since Robin is departing her form. But, you must clear the room and make sure only she hears this as you read.”
Or what? Do I get a Reprimand? I wait, since I know Led hears my thoughts.
Led answers, aloud, “You could get an official Reprimand or we may have to do a Re-set with anyone else who hears, to erase their knowledge.”
“I’m OK with either of those,” I agree. “The risk is worthwhile. Robin will enjoy hearing this, awake or asleep, and it may even provide some information or comfort to her in her journey through the ‘hall.’”
I turn to Mick, “When does this type of information become available to everyone on Earth?”
Mick is silent, checking, then responds. “Those in ESP Trainings Levels 10 – 12 during Transitions Years are the first to know, formally. After Transition, many others enter ESP trainings up to Levels 8 – 10, so they also know. Beyond these beings, there are those whom the knowledgeable ones tell, books available and lessons created in palatable and diluted formats for many others to ingest… I mean, learn.”
“Excellent,” I say. “My book will be one of those, then.”
I pause. “And, when I read this to my friend, Robin, 'next week,' as she lays, dying, she smiles at me and squeezes my hand. That is our signal that we do and will Remember,” I say, getting teary, again. “When she enters the ‘hall,’ she won’t be scared or confused. She’ll know what it is and what to do. She’ll know about her past, current and future connections to loved ones, and that many will recur or continue.”
I turn to each of them and bow, with my hands together, Buddhist prayer-style. “Thank you all, so much!”
“We need to talk about the public event,” Janis says.
“Oh,” I remember, but I’m yawning. “Could we do that tomorrow? I’m beat.” It’s about 6:30 PM, and I haven’t eaten or drunk anything all day, either. Suddenly, my body remembers itself and I am both hungry and thirsty. I go into the kitchen to get some water and an apple.
Led replies, “Yes, Clara, we can resume tomorrow. Restore your body and have a good night’s rest.”
We each make our good-bye gestures and they blink out.
I look out my windows, floor-to-ceiling bays, in this beautiful living/dining room, at the setting sun. The windows look west over the valleys. Sparkling in the distance in the dusk, I see the ocean meet the horizon. I feel so fortunate and sad, all at once.
This is living and dying, for all beings: transmigrating, repeatedly, forever, in infinite ways, with myriad possible and actual connections. All that matters, what binds us, is love.
Robin will deeply appreciate the egalitarian nature of it all, I think, smiling. I’m glad I get to share this with her, first. I read this to her when I see her next week, even though she is sleeping when I read it. She hears me, either way.
Written April 10, 2012
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“The Future of Earth and the Many Worlds Collective,” Panel Discussion at the Ceremony for the Retirement of the Chief Communicator