Tomorrow I'm going to post a year-end retrospective that I worked on for a couple of weeks; this morning, I just want to sound off a bit, for one day. I uncovered a real past-life match in the obscure literary figure, Mathew Franklin Whittier. How can I explain how deep the back-story goes, however much I delve into it--precisely because it's a real match? Meaning, how can I convey that to people who aren't listening? This isn't the kind of thing you can so easily shock unwilling skeptics into. There are shocking elements to this historical study, and to the past-life match, itself; but people probably ridicule the former, and ignore the latter. I was just realizing how deep the back-story is to my feeling that Mathew was the original author of "The Raven." Whether you start prodding the thing here, or poking it there, it all fits together. The entire study is like that.
I could give examples, but I would just be scratching the surface. My book is written like the internet--everything is interconnected, and mutually-reinforcing. The reader who plunges into it eagerly, will see what I mean by that. Suppose you want to prove that the earth is round. Whether you attack the problem here, or you start there, all clues will lead to the same conclusion; all will support the whole. The reason that happens, is that it's true.
This is what my study is like. But if people are adamantly opposed, then, they will look away. You can't force anyone to believe anything.
I am an excellent photographer. I studied and immersed myself in it for many years; and allowing for personal taste, I know the level I achieved in that art form. And yet, no-one has ever acknowledged it. Of course, no photographer achieves excellence with every photograph. Of the thousands taken, he or she might see fit to present a relative handful; and of that handful, perhaps another handful might reach the level of excellence. But I have achieved that; and yet, Jeffrey Brown of the PBS Newshour is not calling me to arrange for an interview. Nobody knows.
I reconciled myself to that years ago. The world will not be affected one way or the other, if my photography is recognized, nor not. After all, Abby shows me, on occasion, by melding her mind with mine from the astral realm, that all around one is the same beauty as one sees in the most powerful photograph. And by the way, I have done drugs, including marijuana and LSD,* and I've experienced a mind-meld with my astral lover, and the latter has the former beat hands-down. Most often this has been while listening to music together; but also, sometimes, walking on the beach and gazing at the waves. The astral mind encompasses everything at once--it is exquisitely beautiful, and a little disorienting, for the physically-incarnate mind to share it. Abby apparently sees the beauty--and the inherent meaning of that beauty--in every single swirl of foam, in every single turn of wave, for every wave, all at once. I can't explain it, but I have experienced it with her, internally. And as for music--well, I have experienced music on drugs, and I have experienced it listening with Abby. Drugs are like a magnifying glass--but with Abby, it is KNOWING--one knows the music as embodied meaning. How could I put adequate words to that? The drug high "tries" to do that, but it's a poor knock-off, I would say. This doesn't happen often, and usually I can't sustain it, but when it does, it's memorable.
This is nothing new, by the way. It used to be called having a "muse." Poets had a muse; painters had a muse; musicians had a muse. But now we use that word cheaply. We have no idea it once had a literal meaning.
All of this is so far ahead of its time, that sometimes I think I should just save my breath. I haven't even gotten to the stage where I am ridiculed, yet--just ignored. Don't you realize that I have actually done what I keep saying I've done?
Perhaps not. But unlike my photography, this is deadly serious. If Western society continues on this course of atheism and materialism, it may soon fall apart. Don't tell me you don't see the signs. It is close, now. I am pointing to the way out--it is not in politics, it is not in Jeffrey Brown's political correctness. It is not in revolution, or civil war; and Science, meaning, materialistic science, is not going to save us. Neither is a return to traditional religious dogma. I'm nobody special, really--in a more enlightened past age, there would have been thousands like me walking the streets at any given time. I only have something to say because Society has sunk so low. In my own community, the followers of Meher Baba, I am nothing so very special. I can hold my own, there, but there are many I consider more spiritually mature than myself. But to the general Society, I have something to offer.
Time will tell, I suppose, whether my gift just sits there, ignored and unappreciated, like my photography, or whether anyone takes me seriously.
Stephen Sakellarios, M.S.
*Meher Baba said that drugs are "harmful physically, mentally and spiritually." I gave them up permanently in 1974, shortly before becoming a follower.
Music opening this page: "Baba O'Reilly" by The Who, from the album, "Who's Next"