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8/19/17
Having caught up for the moment with all of the newly-discovered pieces written by myself, Mathew Franklin Whittier, at age 18 in 1830, I had the whim to go back and re-read my book, "Mathew Franklin Whittier in his own words," beginning from Chapter 13. The size of Chapter 14, now, where I have been adding new evidence for several years, has grown to absurd proportions. The entire book, with Appendix and copious images, has just pooched over 2,100 pages. As hardly anyone even looks at it, on my online store, to consider purchasing it, sometimes my self-confidence flags. I wonder, over and over, how I might trim it down.

So this morning, I was reading Chapter 13 from the beginning, and making little tweaks based on new information I've acquired. After an hour or so, I stopped at a subheading, and once again thought to myself, "It's incredible."

I can't shorten this book, because, as I've said before, this is the story of the research, itself. Which is to say, how did I react to each new piece of information about Mathew's life, given the heavy amnesia attendant upon reincarnating? You can see it in real time. I have become a reincarnation Guinea pig for the reader. If I shortened it into a highlights presentation, all that is lost.

I am a very poor ad copy writer. I don't know why I can't sell, but I can't. I try, and still nobody even looks at my book--even though at least a few people read this blog (which actually is now probably as long as the book). What I can tell you is that I started out with a genuine past-life match, albeit with almost complete amnesia, and then I dove deeper, and deeper, and deeper into the historical record. As I encountered new evidence, a picture of Mathew's life--a very personal picture--began to emerge.

I was reacting, all the while, with several different levels of my being--and this is where it gets interesting, or where it should get interesting, for anyone seriously researching reincarnation. I haven't been able to explain this to the researchers I've contacted, but I think the researchers of the future will see it. First of all, I was reacting with my present-day mind, including, of course, my total database of learning. That includes psychology (I have a master's degree in counseling), my study of Eastern mysticism (over 40 years), and my study of Western paranormal research (since 1997). This part of my mind would make theories and come to conclusions, based on what I knew of Mathew's life--and the 19th century--at the time, and I was frequently mistaken.

I was also, however, reacting with my feelings and emotions; and it turned out that Mathew's feelings and emotions were quite alive within me, and waking up even more as I was increasingly exposed to the information. This part of me was typically accurate. These two parts of my mind were sometimes in conflict; and my rational mind might, at times, temporarily override the intuitive part.

Gradually, as I tapped in to a deep historical reservoir of Mathew's anonymous published work, I found that my intellectual picture of his life had become near-complete; and at the same time, Mathew's subconscious mind had effectively woken up within me. I have said this many times, and I think it goes "in one ear and out the other"--but I really do know, and experience, precisely what Mathew felt about everything. Of course I would get a sense of that from reading so many of his works; but it goes deeper than that.

I'm not saying what I want to say, here, and am tempted to erase it all and start from scratch. But I know I can never adequately express it. What I just read, from the beginning of Chapter 13, is fascinating. There is no cause for it to be shunned completely. Or if there is a cause, it is not because it is substandard, nor because it is boring. I start out with feelings, and a handful of more complete memory-glimpses. I dive into the life of a seemingly obscure person. The little you can find out about him is largely unfavorable; and my emotions are protesting. In my feelings, I seem to remember someone very different.

Then, suddenly, I discover that a writer who is only credited with something like 65 pieces, almost all of which featured the same fictional character, actually published (at last count) over 800 works. The man who supposedly began writing in 1846, at age 34, actually began writing for a New York City newspaper at age 17, in 1829. And while he supposedly retired his one character in 1863, he continued writing until his death (the last piece I found was published posthumously by his friend and co-worker). Why the disparity? Because Mathew had a habit of publishing anonymously, under dozens of pseudonyms. I'm not wrong about this. I went to great lengths to be scholarly and rigorous about it.

And, as I mention several times lately, I learned that he and his first wife, Abby, appear to have been the original authors of "A Christmas Carol"; while Mathew appears to have been the original author of "The Raven." It appears to have been Mathew who wrote the latter poem under the pseudonym of "------ Quarles," not Poe. How Poe got hold of it and subsequently convinced editors that he was the author, I don't know. Mathew didn't defend his pseudonyms; and in this case, he had entered into an arranged marriage, and would not have wanted his second wife to know he was so actively still grieving his first. So he was defenseless; and Poe must have seen that he could get away with it, being desperate, at the time, for cash and fame.

Now, in 2017, these twin claims are probably enough to cause people to dismiss me out-of-hand. But someday, when they are taken seriously, they will have the opposite effect. And somehow it all seems to have been pre-ordained--like a time-release capsule. These absurd claims act as a lock and key on my work, until such time as they naturally open of their own accord--when Society is ready.

This kind of readiness requires the development of intuitive discernment, which Society is sorely lacking, at present. It will not always be so. For example, there is a fellow who believes himself to be the reincarnation of St. Paul, and another who believes himself the reincarnation of St. John (as I recall). They aren't. There's yet another fellow who claims to be the reincarnation of artist Paul Gauguin. He is. My case is also genuine. Only intuitive discernment (coupled with a sincere longing for the truth) will enable you to tell the difference, at least until you immerse yourself in my book and find that I have real evidence. Discernment and sincere longing for the truth are the prerequisites for taking my work seriously, in the first place. These qualities are presently lacking in society, which accounts for why my book isn't selling.

Wouldn't you think it was worth spending $12.00 and a few weeks' time, to read the account of the real author of "A Christmas Carol" and "The Raven," re-discovering himself in a subsequent incarnation? Admit it--the only reason you don't, is that you flat-out don't believe me. But I think your grandchildren will.

Best regards,

Stephen Sakellarios, M.S.

 

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