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Invisible Forces

Page 25

by J. K. Scott


  Mia’s silky voice laughed heartily. “Only if you let it be,” she said. “Let’s review the chakras.” She explained the first three chakras were about the physical nature. The first chakra at the base of the spine energized stability, security, and basic needs. The second, located at the pubic bone, was about creativity, sexual energies, and emotional expression.

  Mia paused, as if she knew my thoughts had drifted. I struggled, as I had become lifeless as other students’ energies increased.

  Mia continued with the third chakra, the source of power, located from the navel to the breastbone, known as the lustrous gem.

  I asked, “What gem?”

  “Dillon, the first root chakra is red like garnet, onyx, or red jasper. The second chakra is the navel, and the color is orange like carnelian. The third, the solar plexus power chakra, is yellow like citrine or yellow sapphire. You need to study these chakras. And more important, this data is related to specific frequencies. I recommend readings about archaeo-acoustics.”

  “You’re right. I’ll study the states of frequencies,” I said, adding that I knew sound waves had opened new fields of research and discovery.

  Mia added, “The next four are spirit chakras. The fourth is the heart chakra; it’s green and integrates matter and spirit. The fifth chakra, the throat chakra, is blue like aqua and is the source of communication and verbal expression from the highest truths. The sixth is between the eyebrows, and the color is indigo; the third eye is our center of intuition. The seventh chakra is purple; it’s located at the crown of the head and is our spiritual connection to our higher self and to the divine.” Mia’s details about how the chakras raised energy frequencies suggested I study the optimum number of 110 hertz. She added that chanting Om was the combination of all the vowels in the alphabet.

  Obviously, I had neglected to focus on the seventh chakra, which was the spiritual connection to our higher selves and to the divine. This was the connection to my messenger that I had blocked.

  Mia offered, “You can retake the class or study on your own. You choose.”

  Embarrassed, I said, “I’ll review the classwork and redo the mental exercises for body energies,” hoping that would suffice.

  Mia said, “A time ago, a student shared that when she traveled out of her body, the experiences varied depending on which chakra energy she departed from her body. Withdrawing from the crown chakra, she experienced pure consciousness.”

  I said, “That’s revealing. Depending on the frequency you emitted, that would be your experience.”

  Mia added, “Dillon, you understand. Also, I’ve decided to ask Bill for his assistance. He’s retired now but renowned for his sessions on out-of-body experiences. I received a message that it’s important you experience OBEs.”

  I sank in the chair, knowing that DWJ was concerned about my reports. Guilt hung over me that I had faltered in two areas. I looked at Mia, saying, “I will work on the chakras and look forward to working with Bill.”

  I missed my vacation week to stay at the cottage to study. I immersed myself in my studies to raise my chakra energies. I finally passed Mia’s review and prepared to meet Bill.

  Bill arrived the next morning. He was tall and slender, had streaks of gray in his brown hair, and was wearing Western jeans and an untucked white collared shirt. Bill had vast experience in traveling out of his body and had instructed thousands of students at the institute.

  Bill had a terrific sense of humor. He asked me, “What is your problem?” as if everyone should float from beyond their body without any effort. We both laughed as I told him how I had been confined to the CHEC area. We had a hardy laugh when he remarked that wasn’t much of an experience when the known universe was available.

  Then he said, “Tell me about your messenger.”

  I laughed telling him about my previous fear that first time.

  Bill laughed too and then said, “You are here now.”

  My protected life at Cascade had limited my growth. I had been negligent, unaware of most of my surroundings. I didn’t even know who I was. This sobering thought hit me hard. I’d been skating through life, dependent upon my skills. I’d really never questioned myself. I recalled a quote from the philosopher Socrates, “The unexamined life is not worth living.”

  Bill asked, “Do you believe you have a higher or intuitive self, or are you still searching for an answer?”

  I told him I had experienced the intuitive self. We continued our discussion as I intently listened to his suggestions.

  From the audio room in the cottage, Bill’s voice guided me through the synchronized realms to raise my consciousness. I listened to Bill’s rhythmic voice and the hemi-sync in the CHEC as I relaxed and felt the intense energies from my being. My consciousness drifted, and I thought about my messenger. I became lighter and lighter, drifting into darkness deep in space. I felt a presence, thinking, Where am I?

  The mental message replied, “Look around.”

  I replied, “I can’t see.”

  “Open your eyes.”

  I mentally responded, “I don’t have eyes.” Reactively, it dawned on me that I had no physical form. I was pure consciousness.

  I returned to my body, feeling as if a warm liquid had filled my being. Energized and awakened to higher realms, I knew I had pierced the veil to travel beyond the confines of the room.

  Afterward, Bill asked about my messenger. I explained what I’d experienced. He thought about it for a moment and asked me to repeat the mental exchange, asking, “Who were you communicating with?”

  Instantly, I realized it was the highest source of my being. I had a Eureka moment. I said, “I experienced my highest self.”

  Bill asked, “Were you afraid?”

  “No, I felt very secure.”

  “You trust the message from yourself?”

  “Yes. At times, I doubted my experience, but I was hounded by the message.”

  “You are in communication with your higher or intuitive self. Remember, expectations and doubtful imaginations will interfere with divine energy.”

  We sat in silence as I absorbed Bill’s insights.

  I said, “In Buddhism, there are four heavenly abodes: compassion, lovingkindness, equanimity or peace of mind, and sympathetic joy. At this time, I’m experiencing sympathetic joy—a deep, fulfilling joy for my well-being and deep joy for my profound insight.”

  Bill looked at me. “Dillon, I don’t believe you will have blocks to traveling the universe if you so desire.”

  I wanted Bill to stay and share more insights, but it was my responsibility to open the unknown world I had neglected for so long. I recalled Peter’s comment about not knowing the unknown. I felt overwhelmed with my sessions at the institute and wished everyone had the opportunity gifted to me.

  My daily journal was filled with my new experiences and expanded worldview. With only a day left before I returned to the hotel, Sara called.

  “Dillion, are you ready for your next assignment?”

  I said, “I’m ready.”

  Sara said, “At noon tomorrow, Daniel will meet you outside the hotel.”

  “I’ll be ready,” I said.

  The institute’s sessions opened the universes and worlds. Over the weeks, I had asked students, “Why are you here?” The majority of students told me they were searching for truth. They wanted to know who they were, develop their intuition, and expand their consciousness.

  41

  MY LAST NIGHT at the Charlottesville hotel, I felt far wiser than I had months ago when I arrived. I was grateful for my experience at the institute and regretted leaving. Someday, I’d return for further insights and development.

  I joined the friendly crowd in the hotel’s lounge. Several in the group were attending the institute in the morning. They expressed their enthusiasm to attend the Institute. I shared my pa
ssion for Arizona and hiking and camping around the Phoenix Valley and Sedona’s trails in red-rock terrain.

  For the past decade, the country had avoided a devastating war. After many conflicts, the populace demanded no more wars. Some believed we should encourage contact with alien intelligence to reunite the planet while others feared a takeover. Many believed contact would open the gates to problems. We were at a turning point in our evolution that had been repeated in our history.

  After I had arrived in Washington, DC, to meet Sara, Daniel informed me there had been a change of plans. We were meeting Sara at an address in town. I had no idea what to expect. I carried my backpack to a waiting vehicle that Daniel drove to a run-down house in a devastated neighborhood. The windows were boarded, and the house was in disrepair.

  Daniel said, “Sara’s waiting for you inside.”

  I reached for my backpack, but Daniel remarked, “You won’t need it. You will be there for a short time. I’ll be waiting for you.”

  I entered the house and was confronted by a bitter metallic smell. Sara was in the kitchen, which looked like a garbage pit. She was disguised as an elderly lady. I asked, “Why are we here?”

  Sara pointed to a four-by-four-foot faded tattered wood-framed map hung on the wall. It appeared to be city map, and I assumed it showed the District of Columbia.

  I started to step closer, when Sara yelled, “Don’t move!”

  I froze and noted spilled red, green, and yellow pushpins scattered on the floor. Instantly, I understood.

  I looked at her. “I’ll need a 3-D computer to assemble the pins,” I said, knowing I had to reverse them back on the map.

  Sara pulled back a black garbage bag that covered a computer on the table. “We have the map and the pins from the floor loaded for your analysis.”

  I pulled a chair forward to view the screen as Sara moved over. Clearing my mind, I looked at the splattered red, green, and yellow pushpins that had fallen or were yanked from the map onto the floor. I noted the walled map had been tilted, tossing them randomly.

  The duplicated screens of the twenty-one pin patterns as well as the pinhole pressure depths were noted on the screen. My mind began organizing the splatter patterns as my fingers moved the red and green pins around the screen, replicating the pattern in my mind. I was sensing the dominance of the colors. I was moving the last pin into its hole, when a tall suited man dashed through the back door as if he had been waiting for me to finish.

  He asked, “Is it finished?”

  Sara said, “The pins are in place.”

  The man hovered over me for a minute as I scooted further away from the screen’s pinned map. He shouted, “I’ll be damned! Sara, forward it to me.” He left in a hurry with a smartphone to his ear.

  I asked, “What was that about?”

  “You confirmed what he suspected. The site locations of the red pins are what he needed.”

  Her words pressed on my mind as I looked at the screen, wondering about the threat that surrounded the map. Quickly, Sara sent the diagram to the man’s smartphone.

  We joined the waiting Daniel and headed for the airport. Sara explained that the house’s occupants had sadly been shot and the bodies had been removed earlier. She added, “Dillon, you are amazing. You organized the colored pins from the past back onto the map. Ryan won’t forget this. Someday, we may need his assistance. I hope you realize the importance of your skills.”

  Humbled by her words, I nodded and asked, “Where are we going?”

  Driving to the plane, Sara said, “We need to return to the location where the courier’s body and the images were discovered for closure.”

  I agreed. “Let’s return to Arizona.”

  Daniel contacted the captain to inform him we were flying to Phoenix, Arizona, as we returned to Reagan Airport.

  We were on the plane when Sara said, “Your initial analysis was the images appeared as a rescue mission. Do you still agree with your intuition?”

  “Yes. I’m glad we are going to the wash where the courier was found,” I said, thinking I’d always wanted to see the location.

  Sara reclined in her seat. “Do you have any other thoughts?”

  I replied, “The courier knew his life was in danger. He purposely protected the images in the wrist clasp prior to being killed. Sadly, the courier had to hike with his killer under duress to his burial. It had to be in daylight for the killer to manage the two-mile-or-more hike in desert terrain.”

  Sara smiled. “I agree.”

  I said, “I sense the courier knew what he was protecting. But I believe the original SD card was far older than we knew.”

  Sara smiled wider. “Invisible forces occupy every aspect of our lives and the known universe. The sooner you understand them, the more you will know.”

  “I agree,” I said, glancing out at the cloud cover outside the window.

  While flying, Sara called DWJ to arrange for the helio to meet us at the airport and asked me if we needed a vehicle to drive to the trailhead.

  I told her to call Ronzo. I had to ask if my jeep had been returned to the garage and if it was in working condition.

  Ronzo confirmed the jeep was in working condition and in the garage. They asked if we needed any other supplies for the cabin before we arrived. I assured them I had hiking supplies but was reassured that I could always depend on them.

  We arrived at the cabin with the jeep in the garage. I gave Sara an extra backpack along with hiking supplies I had for a day trip.

  Sara requested DWJ to send the coordinates of the area where the courier’s bones and leather briefcase were located. We decided to hike to the spot from an unmarked rugged trail. Sara retired to the guest room while I finished packing for the hike. I added a collapsible pole with a sharp point and a portable shovel. Assured I had what we needed in the backpack, finally, I crawled into bed for a few hours of sleep. Sara prepared to leave two hours before sunrise to avoid overhead drones and other hikers.

  We arrived at a secure parking spot and covered the jeep. Hiking in the Mazatzal Mountains was a gradual climb, but the location near the Barnhardt Trail was in the lower desert. Early unmarked hiking required stepping over protruding rocks. We kept an eye out for any coyotes, bobcats, mountain lions, snakes, Gila monsters, or other harmful critters in their desert home.

  With dawn light, we arrived at the first coordinate. Sara had the map on SAM, as well as the photos from the investigation. We walked up and down the wash, still wet from recent rains, calculating the distance the various bones had traveled between sites. However, we knew the tattered briefcase was not far from the skull. We both agreed with the investigative report and spotted where all the found bones had been left. The most important clue was the leather briefcase, found near a pine tree, where it had been buried and then exposed. We treated the site as burial ground, thinking about the courier who had lost his life in the desert.

  We dug and walked around to see if any more clues had been exposed over the passing years. Afterward, Sara sat on a large protruding rock, and I joined her nearby, thinking about how this had impacted my life. The sun sprayed its rays upon the trees, rocks, and desert terrain. I sipped more water as I gazed at the Mazatzal Mountain peaks.

  I closed my eyes and soaked in the cool breeze blowing on my face, inhaling the scents of desert shrubs and pine trees. I felt Sara move near me as I continued to focus on the elements surrounding me. I heard her softly say, “Dillon, stand up very slowly.”

  Immediately, I thought a mountain lion was nearby. I opened my eyes and stood. Sara was looking upward into the blue sky at a lenticular cloud.

  Sara said, “Many times, people mistook a lenticular cloud for an unidentified flying vehicle or believed the cloud cover to be a UFV.”

  The lenticular cloud was enormous.

  I said, “The wind force inside such clouds could b
e turbulent, and planes avoided them, but people loved them for sky sailing.”

  The strange-appearing cloud was formed by an aligned right angle to the wind direction. The beautiful, artistic cloud appeared etheric as I stared at it.

  Sara said, “After we leave here, I’d like to stop at Lake Saguaro to rent a boat and visit a cave from my past.”

  “Why a cave?” I asked.

  Sara said, “Years ago, I buried diamonds that were used for bartering there. For hundreds of years, I managed my own resources until Beaconhouse insisted on paying me.”

  I commented, “Living a lengthy life must have its perils.”

  Sara explained that she was committed to protecting the planet’s evolution. She added, “I possess the secrets of eternal life if one desires it.”

  After I took another swig of water, I said, “I’ll patiently wait for you to share your stories about life. And why are cosmic aliens visiting or intruding on our planet?”

  Sara grinned. “Someday.”

  We stared at the lenticular cloud for a few moments before Sara said, “Dillon, there is an alien cosmic vehicle inside the cloud.”

  I wished I had binoculars to see strange motion inside the cloud.

  Sara continued. “I wondered what the courier knew about the images. Secrets don’t last forever in our world. Just talk to the archaeologists.”

  I stood, my vision blurring as I stared at the cloud. I hoped Sara would answer my cosmic alien question as I watched the cloud evaporate. I heard Sara sigh.

  Sara turned to me with a serious expression. “Dillon, World War III will be fought by nations in space. The powers will initiate destructive forces, and cosmic intelligence will only intercede if our planet is to be destroyed. I’m working on a program to ensure human evolution thrives. The cosmic aliens want us to survive, but we are not heeding their messages as they become bolder. Cosmic aliens have been around for millions of years from another dimension. Humans have the opportunity to be more loving, compassionate, humble, and aware to develop their consciousness.”

 

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