November 18, 2015


I had told Steve I would try to get a sign to him, to confirm what he felt I was telling him, that his cat, Penny, was safe with me after he had to have her put to sleep. This was reasonable, to put his mind at ease, since it is hard for him to tell, sometimes, when he is "making it up." I was able to get a sign to him, or rather, two signs in a row, which is my preference, to put a seal on it and make it clear that it isn't just a coincidence.

Normally, it is best not to share yours signs. Keep it to yourself as a cherished gift; or if you must share, do so with someone who understands. It is paradoxical--if you were so certain that you could withstand a naysayer's doubts, then you wouldn't need the sign in the first place, would you? But in this case, it is instructive, so we will share just with my group, here. Of course, doubters may read this--and because all minds are connected, at the deeper layers, a doubter's thoughts may impact Steve unconsciously. This is a layer of reality most people are unaware of--how thoughts affect others. Whatever you deeply believe in, are convinced of, affects others most. And what you see in the world, today, is a clash of inner worlds, a clash of deep convictions; and a clash of the love of those convictions. When convictions are held in ignorance--and ignorance is nothing but a low degree of Truth--then love, expressed through the imperfect glass of those ignorant convictions, wreaks havoc in the world. This is what we used to discuss, in private, at great length in the 19th century, when we were Mathew and Abby. We saw the root problem, or, the problem at a deep level--but how to help them? Because they resist, thinking that their cherished ideals are the so-much-loved truth, itself. Their cherished ideals have some portion of the truth inside them. But they cannot discern; and you cannot make them discern.

But, I digress--sort of. Because Steve got a separate sign as regards being rejected in our work, first. His eye was drawn to Rumi's "Masnavi," which he has used for "divination" in the past, and he felt drawn to open to a page at random, in a prayerful and receptive state of mind. He got a story that at first he didn't understand. It essentially says, if you are publicly exposing the world's untruths, you cannot then expect the world to reward you. Indeed.

Then came my signs, regarding Penny. I had given Steve impressions that Penny is with me; that she cycles back and forth between joyous exploring in her new-found freedom, and being safe and secure with me, here in my home. I even gave him an impression that I, and my adopted daughter, Anna (you may recall I have mentioned Anna, the young inventor) put together a sort of Rube Goldberg-ish contraption to keep her occupied. What an imagination Steve has! if it's only his imagination. But if this is really my thoughts, then Penny is having the time of her life, and she is quite safe and secure with me, loved and liked by my friends and neighbors. So a lot was riding on whether it was imagination, or not. This is what I did.

Some time back, I was encouraging Steve to watch YouTube videos of the best psychics, during his lunch break. He went through all of John Edward, Gordon Smith and Lisa Williams, and recently he discovered Paula O'brien, and he has watched most of her videos by now, too. So on a whim (watch those whims!), he thought he'd try to find one he hadn't seen, before. This was a couple of days ago. Turned out he had seen it, but for some reason he kept on watching. Suddenly, in the middle of the reading (a woman who had lost her grown son), Paula is saying that their pet (Steve can't remember now, cat or dog) is with her son, and is thanking her for having put him to sleep.

Now, it could be coincidence, but Steve knows my style. So the next day, yesterday, he's at lunch again, goes back to Paula's videos, and decides he will try to pick something of hers he's never seen. It's the same one he saw, before. So he picks one that's definitely new to him. This is a couple, and Paula just doesn't know for sure who it is she's supposed to bring through. She says there are people around them, but nobody in particular. Then she starts apologizing, that sometimes she's not quite sure whether this stuff is real, or not, herself. And she goes out on a limb, and says there is a dog, and gives the name, and the nickname. And she says, "I'm really sticking my neck out on this one." It's the lady's dog...and the dog died of kidney failure, or something wrong with the back end. They had the dog put to sleep, even though it would have probably been possible for him to live on awhile. Except it would not have had a good quality of life after that, it would have been suffering.

Paula says her dog thanks her for making that decision, even though it was the hardest thing she'd ever had to do.

Okay, Steve knows my style. He knows that's me. This second reading was precisely the same situation Steve was in, with Penny--it is "spot on." He will not, however, tell his neighbor about it, or the woman at the convenience store, or several relatives or friends. He will keep it to himself, and turn his attention, now, to several other challenges appearing in his life, because this is a challenging time for him. He will need his energies--and I have Penny safe, here.

Well, we are a team, and this is real. No sooner do you realize that this is really, really, really real, than you can begin to function as a couple, just like any earth couple.

I thought Steve needed some cheering up. He likes getting things in the mail; he likes finding physical newspapers that have Mathew's writing in them. So there was a copy for sale that, so far as he knew, didn't have anything of Mathew's in it--I told him, via prompting, "Go ahead and get it, it will cheer you up." He did, but the owner of the company sent him an e-mail--"We don't know how it happened, but we seem to have misplaced the newspaper. However, we have several other editions of this paper, if you'd like a substitution."

Well, Steve smelled an Abby on this one, and wrote back, "Can you give me a list of the editions of that paper that you have?" He did. Dozens of them. So many of them carry Mathew's work, that Steve can't afford them all, but he made up a wish-list of his favorites, and the owner will be getting back to him sometime today. They should include at least one with a cartoon we used in our book, so that we can make a better copy of it.

Steve was watching Bill Maher on TV yesterday afternoon (the ru-run). To Steve, he looks so much like a young Victor Hugo, whom Mathew met in Paris in 1851. We aren't telling ;-). Do you think that talent and passion like this simply stops, because the physical body in one incarnation wears out? People are reincarnating all around you. All the babies, all the vibrant young people you see in the park, are reincarnated. Those who have something to contribute to Society, are no different, and with "eyes to see," you can sometimes recognize them. There is nothing strange in this, at all. (Even so, I am not confirming, or denying, Bill and Victor.)

What Bill is doing, is precisely what Mathew did in the mid-19th century. One of the pieces Steve hopes to purchase, was written in response to the Mexican-American War. It's the planned Fourth of July fireworks display in the little fictional town of Hornby, honoring the War. Mathew's satire was scathing--and driven by deep compassion. That war was sheer imperialism, and all thinking, progressive, caring people knew it. It went ahead, anyway. Texas, as you see, has been the first to deny the Syrian immigrants. Oh, well, Steve wonders whether he is channeling, or commenting! (But we shall leave it in--take it however you want to.)

Here is an excerpt from the above-mentioned sketch.* If it's too long for you, you can skim or skip it altogether--I couldn't get Steve to trim it down ;-). Many of the period political references you probably won't be familiar with (neither is Steve), but you can get a sense of it. "Gen. Koo-Shing" is Caleb Cushing, who was known to be a ladies' man, and who had hurt his ankle stepping off the sidewalk to let a Mexican lady pass (but who thought nothing of killing them in war, to acquire territory for the U.S.). It was four years later that Mathew would visit with Victor Hugo.

Hornby, June 29, 1847.

Mr. Wright:--When the news reached this place about the Boston Fire Works, and we saw that only one piece commemorated the glorious achievements of our army in Mexico, all Hornby riz up with indignation. A sum of money was immediately raised, in order that a proper testimonial might be given of our devotion to American arms, and I submit the programme of our display of Fire Works, which will come off on Sunday evening--the evening of the day on which most of our glorious battles were fought. Hornby sets her face against all shams. Hornby never strains at a gate, having previously swallowed the entire sawmill. If battles are fought on Sunday, what's the harm of letting off a few fireworks on the same evening?


From sundown until nine o'clock powder crackers will be occasionally let off; at the ringing of the bell the display will commence with a
1. Grand exhibition of Tin Lanterns.
2. Display of "Blue Lights," such as were used at the Hartford Convention;--from the original recipe in the possession of the Editor of the Boston Post.
3. American Glory, supported by magnificent columns of skulls and cross bones.
4. An illuminated transparency, representing Gen. Taylor "giving the Mexicans Hell."
5. A correct representation, in gold and silver lace work, of Gen. Scott holding a Roman candle, as he appeared at Vera Cruz.
6. Flights of Pigeons and Serpents.
7. Representation of Gen. Koo-Shing attacking a regiment of Mexican Ladies.
At the opening of the piece a regiment of ladies to the number of several hundred is discovered on the extreme right. Gen. Koo-Shing appears at the left, a little lame from his recent fall. The General advances briskly to the charge, stopping occasionally to allow the artillery of his eyes to have its full effect. When opposite the centre, the General executes the difficult manoeuvres of fandango and chasse, brandishing the ring bestowed by the Massachusetts Ladies, and discharging several vollies of smiles in quick succession. The General appears about to attack the centre, but changing his intention he performs the Pas de Danube, and rushes upon the right wing. Great confusion prevails; the enemy yields, and falls before the victorious arms of our countryman. The General returns to camp victorious.
8. Triumph of Mars and Venus.
9. Representation of the bursting of a shell in the interior of a Mexican dwelling.
10. Flight of Serpents.
11. Flights of Sub-Treasury Rockets with showers of gold rain.
12. Procession of the skeletons of those who have fallen in the Mexican war, bearing banners with the inscription, "This is Glory."
13. Temple of James as opened by James K. Polk. This magnificent structure, of gold and silver fire, is supported by Editors of war newspapers of both political parties, surrounded by a statue of Henry Clay as he appeared when wishing "to kill a Mexican." The columns in front are composed of the Reverend Clergy who view the war as affording opportunities of converting the Mexicans, and who consider "every soldier a colporteur." The names of Scott and Taylor are emblazoned upon the wings, surrounded by circles of red fires.
The whole to conclude with an exhibition of the
Bombardment of Vera Cruz!!

So, Steve wants me to comment on the recent developments as regards Paris, and terrorism, and so-on. Ignorance. Ideals, and love, and ignorance--the deadly soup. The soup of death--or, growing pains, depending on how you look at it. It is not so much that the New Age will dawn. It is more that it will be delivered--and an agonizing, difficult delivery it will be. Ignorance, ideals, and love. Love, ideals, and ignorance. Love burns away ignorance; ideals become what is already there, hidden. "Let it Be." Let IT be. It already is. What is ignorance? Ignorance is what is not. Ignorance is confusing what is not, with what is--and clinging to it. Let's bring this home. Ignorance is loving the physical body of one's beloved as if that was really them. There is love; there is the ideal. There is ignorance in the ideal. Are you with me so far?

The body dies. The loved one is still there in his or her astral form, "just one step away" from you, but invisible on a higher frequency, because of your own limitations in vision. One is plunged into grief. This is ignorance. Don't get me wrong--it is entirely understandable. But in the end, it is still ignorance--it isn't, actually, what it seems.

So what caused your suffering? It was only ignorance. Have modern advances wiped out the truth of Islam? No. But they have wiped out many of the cruelties of the 7th century, which the rules were designed to mitigate. Returning to the husk of those rules, as if by doing so, one could stave off the onslaught of modernism, is ignorance. And what cruelty can people in ignorance perpetuate? You see it, yourself. Are they partly right? Of course. The future is not materialistic. The future is not, in fact, secular. Neither is it "religious." The future is not cruel. The future, the glorious future awaiting mankind, is beyond all these partial conceptions. It is Living Spirituality. We knew this when we were Mathew and Abby...but no-one listened to us. We managed to get the one message to the world, dampened down, as it was, by our "carrier," Charles Dickens. This coming Christmas season, millions of people will be affected by it, still. (Do you think a copy of "A Christmas Carol" may end up in the hands of one of the children who are being taught to kill, as Steve saw on the news last night?)

Steve is trying, with my help--so far, as it seems, unsuccessfully--to educate the public about just the one truth, reincarnation. My goals are even more modest. Thanks to Steve, I am simply providing a prototype of a continuing relationship between soul-mates, across the Divide. I make some tea, ten or eleven of you join me, and I share with you whatever's on my mind that day. May it give you strength, while the world laughs and scorns. In the future, many will avail themselves of this possibility--and many will escape the yawning chasm of crushing grief, turning it into joy. If I can give this to the world, then the mistakes we made, as Mathew and Abby, will be rectified and will be of some use to others. Death does not prevail. Ignorance prevails for a season, while it holds Love captive; then Love breaks free and flies far from ignorance. Ignorance is like the caterpillar's cocoon; Love, the butterfly, is destined to escape it.

All my love,

*It is signed "Bellicose Smythe," which, phonetically, is "bellicose myth."--SS