I am at the old house in the Texas Hill Country west of Austin where so many of the experiences I related in the Secret School took place. It is as sweet a night as Texas has to offer, softly touched by moonlight, graced by a cool south breeze. Half an hour ago, there were three familiar cries out in the dark, and I think that, after all these years, the visitors might be near me again.
Once, I would have been afraid. No longer. Not that I don’t think that they can be dangerous, but rather that I am surrendered to the unknown. I have never known what they are. Aliens, perhaps. Equally possible, it seems to me, that they are us dancing with itself in some way that we can barely even begin to understand.
Last weekend, I was at William Henry’s marvelous Theurgy conference. It was only lightly attended, which struck me as sad, but the people there were powerful souls, old souls, not to be denied. The vast majority of us spend our lives passively waiting. We die waiting. Not them. They were active, vividly alive human beings. It was wonderful.
Just as the conference was ending, a participant came up to me and nervously asked if Anne had a special chair of some sort, perhaps a rocking chair. I said that she did have a special chair. The woman then said, "She asked me to tell you that she can see you in the chair."
I was thunderstruck, because there is a special chair. It is the chair in which I meditate. I understood, in that moment, why the visitors came to me. I understood why I am still having such a close relationship with Anne. It’s because, when we meditate, those in this other level of reality can see us.
I have known for a long time that the next step in human evolution involves dropping the barrier between the living and, as Anne used to put it, "what we call the dead."
In this lovely night, so mysterious and quiet, the barrier is down. I have been deep in mediation and will now enter it again. Moonlight drifts in the window. The curtain flutter with the breeze. I feel in my heart such love, such compassion.
And now, lights out. Sleep.