A few weeks ago, I published a journal entry called 'Change of Being.' I would like to return to this subject and describe what has become an ongoing process of inner change. I was on Coast to Coast week before last with George Knapp when I had the first experience of just how much I have changed. He announced that Tony Scott had committed suicide by jumping off a bridge. He was the director of my second movie, 'the Hunger,' and I have followed his career with great pleasure ever since. While I did not know him personally, I did know that he had tried to get Warner Brothers to do a remake of the Hunger, wanting to bring the skills he had learned over the years to a re-visioning of the film.
Hearing what had happened shocked me in very much the normal way, but then something else happened, something more. I felt a raw, intense sense of absolute compassion for him and all who loved him, for his wife and children. Their anguish came flooding into me with tremendous power. I could see him. Feel the sudden inner sorrow that overcame him. Could almost hear his wife crying. It was as if all the filters with which I had always lived were gone.
I said nothing of this. The show was about other topics. I was deeply shaken, but I kept on, of course. As I had suggested to him, George got into global warming. Then I had my second surprise. Coast runs on stations that have mostly far right-wing programming. Personally, I am not very ideological. I'm neither a liberal nor a conservative. My preference is always for candidates who express moderation. Although they are harder and harder to find, I do seek them out and vote for them when possible.
Immediately, calls started coming in from people who are profoundly misinformed about global warming. As I listened, something entirely new happened to my mind. I saw a vision of the future, vivid, as if I had been hurled forward in time. I clutched the phone, a lifeline. What I saw was terrible enough, but more than that, I felt the confusion and fear that they will feel, and above all, the hunger that, in their time, will come as never before to define life on Earth.
I also heard the voice of the Master of the Key saying that 'sin is denial of the right to thrive,' and I saw that the false debate that has been generated on this subject is about doing just that: denying the innocent children all around us their right to thrive as we have in our own generation.
Emotions of great power filled me, and I did something that I literally never do in public or private: I raised my voice against the ignorance and the lies that I was hearing. I saw that the far right has already won on global warming. All they wanted was the debate itself, which insures that we will do nothing.
I saw that I am on a mission on behalf of life, on behalf of a new human consciousness and, above all, on behalf of the children. For the first time, I understood this mission clearly, in words, and saw how it has defined my life.
The next morning, I received an appalling telephone call. A dear, old friend had been diagnosed with a terrific cancer. He is in a life and death struggle. Once again, the emotions that exploded within me were not like the quiet, muted response of the other Whitley. They were fearsome and raw and full of a love for my friend that I didn't even know I felt. Over the next couple of hours, they extended to the whole suffering of mankind, to all of the people on all of the desperate beds of the world, and I found myself almost disappearing as an entity, such was the empathy I felt.
My meditation has become more powerful than ever before. 'Whitley' completely disappears when I meditate. I see the earthbound dead all around me. I see into other worlds, lives being lived in realities that are not like our own, and the souls and suffering and joy of the living. Above all, the great, singing joy of being that literally fills the world.
I have discovered that, while we are different because we are intelligent, everything is conscious, and I don't mean just living things. I mean everything. I have understood how the ancients made their temples come to life, by applying images to the stones and shaping them into forms and structures that would allow consciousness to focus there.
A few nights ago, I gave a lecture to a small group at Olander, the home of Leigh and Carla McCloskey. (I rarely do this. Generally, I confine myself to the Dreamland Festival and the one or two things a year that, for whatever reason, I cannot turn down.) Leigh is an actor and artist who began, on 911, painting his studio with what has become, to my eye and mind, one of the great works of our era. We were in a large room below the studio, a group of about fifty of us. (To learn more about Leigh and his work, click here.)
I felt an energy coming through me that was, again, unlike anything I had ever known before. Prior to giving the lecture, I had sat beside a little pond on the property. I had smelled its breath, a scent that was like that of the pond at my cabin and, above all, like the pond on my grandparents' property, beside which I had dreamed the dreams of boyhood. The scent transported brought me to a new kind of sensation: I was not just sensing my body as it was in that moment in that chair, but as it has been all of my life. It was not memory. I was in the long truth of my being.
Then a lady came up and asked me 'what film are they playing tonight?' I said that there were some people giving a lecture. (I am way too shy to have identified myself as the lecturer.) But then, during the lecture, I saw her glaring at me with hate in her eyes. I felt the mistake I had made so profoundly. How my eagerness to preserve my meditative state had pushed this person away, denying her the chance to absorb the energy of the lecture. Denial of the right to thrive, right there. My fault.
Nevertheless, the lecture was unlike anything that I have ever experienced before. A terrific intelligence overtook me. I saw clearly the breath of life and the true extent of consciousness. Then I felt, coming down from the studio above, a focused awareness that was at once watching me and asking me for a certain kind of help. I found myself able to simply open the door of self and let it in. This wonderful artist, without quite realizing what he was doing, has created a temple like the temples of old. It is a place full of imagery that enables transcendent being to focus its attention on the much slower vibration of our level.
When the lecture ended, and we came home, I meditated. During this meditation, I realized that I will never be the person I was even a few months ago, never again. I cannot say with clarity yet what I have become, but I can explain it directionally, in this way: What we call life is a process of breathing in experience. We use physical bodies because they are so richly endowed with sensual receptors and so deeply engulfed in the time stream. We do not see the future, and thus receive all of the energy of life as it impacts us with its surprises. That is the breathing in I have written and spoken about lately.
All of this change, in my opinion, comes from a confluence of three things: the many years of education I received from the visitors; the effects of meditation and inner work; and the moral imperatives explained by the Master of the Key.
I always laugh to myself when people talk to me about the 'good aliens' and the 'bad aliens.' In fact, that question came up during the question and answer period at my lecture. There are two things that people who think this way miss: the first is the issue of complexity. If we could go freely to another world, and religious missionaries, scientists, businessmen, madmen and saints all went, and more, how many different species would the confused targets of our visitation imagine they were dealing with? Many, you can be sure. But what they would really be dealing with is the same thing that we are dealing with: complexity. And in this case, it is compounded by two central facts: we don't know what our visitors are, and we don't know how many different types there are, or how many different motives or ideologies.
The only thing we know for certain is that they are here, and, as my wife Anne discovered after reading many thousands of letters from witnesses, they have something to do with death and the afterlife.
In the state we call "death," which is really another kind of consciousness, we contemplate our lives in extraordinary detail, going instant by instant, and seeing all the resonances and ramifications of everything we did. Each thing that we see, we release, until finally there is nothing left but essence itself, in purest innocence.
Either we are drawn back to life by what we could not reconcile or release, or we ascend from there off the wheel of life and join the ecstatic journey outward. Ecstasy is like heat. It has no upper limit.
So we are, very profoundly, this duality: the active state living in time; and the passive state living in timelessness. However, there is a third state that encompasses the two, sees them both, and seeks to find balance. When we touch the energies of which I am speaking here, we touch this third, greater state of reconciliation.
It is open, compassionate and utterly truthful. It is on a mission to give of itself on behalf of the consciousness of others, and above all, on behalf of the surging joy that is the core meaning of the world. When the visitors said to me, 'have joy,' this is what they meant. In darkness, light.
My new ebook 'The Secret of Orenda' is available now. Learn more at Orendabook.com.