The peril of the New Age Revival

Would it be an over-generalization to observe that we seem to be in the middle of a rebirth of the New Age movement?  Revivals of these sorts have roiled America ever since the Puritans first hit the beach. Suddenly, I'm discovering a new metaphysical book daily; some good, some otherwise. People are actually bothering to read this blog.  This recent wave started, I guess, with all the paranormal shows which (I hear) are on television now. But it seems to be gaining traction. A cottage industry of "mediums," seers, channels, and whatnot are springing up--even in my own neighborhood (which is quite remote).  I've debated joining one. I signed up online. The seer in question lives down the road from me. But I don't get out much anymore... And a few things about this seer threw up a flag or two. I'm sure she's legit; that's not the problem. I just have a personal ethical problem monetizing an ability that we all have.

Does it not strike you as strange that someone might want to charge you money to chat about spiritual matters, contact your spirit guide, maybe speak to a dead relative or two? It does me, but I can't put my finger on exactly why. After all, if I fix your computer, the service might be worth a buck or two. I happily pay Valvoline quite a bit of pocket change to change my oil. And, as these New Agey folks are wont to argue, they need to earn a living too. They are sacrificing their time and energy to provide a service. Isn't this worth something?

Still. Without going into a lot of detail about the person involved, there's a line that's crossed. It's one thing to charge a nominal fee for providing a valuable service by exercising a God-given gift; but, to actively market your abilities as a way of gaining lots of money, fame, and notoriety, is quite another. Maybe it's the motive that's the line. If I want to provide you with a needed service--to serve and help--receiving money for this service is not, in my opinion, unethical...  But if my motive is to make money, gain attention, credit, and inflate my ego, by using a God-given gift that isn't entirely "mine," is this somewhat morally suspect?

I'm just asking the question. My opinion is apparent, but I'm not the judge.

But--in my opinion--I just have a problem with this New Age revival in general because it strikes me as phony. It's about the money. A full three-quarters of the books that I purchase on this subject are just recycled ideas plundered from earlier books on the same topic. And the writers almost always have websites that hawk an assortment of CDs, books, and "personal readings" that charge lawyer's fees for services of dubious merit.

Look. I've been researching this field for forty years. I've learned my lessons on my own; I've gained insight through considerable personal experience, most of it unpleasant. While I won't deny consulting personal spirit guides, I won't blog about it, either. I won't pretend to tell you what my guides think people should do, for an essential reason:  We all have access to the same instruction. We are all guided and helped. We all can communicate with our deceased relatives. We all can receive warnings, insights, and advice about our paths. It is up to the individual to "find the signal," as it were... To learn to listen, and then, to learn.

The New Age revivalists seek to monetize an innate and natural spiritual ability by duping people into believing that they possess special abilities, and you don't. They're wrong. Don't believe them.  Find your own path. It's there, for everyone, free for the taking.

The role of consciousness in anesthesia

Often, when materialists confidently dismiss information that seems to originate outside the measurable physical world (ghosts, visions, NDEs), they forget that the *observer* of these phenomena--consciousness--has yet to be scientifically explained. Scientists do not even know how anesthesia works. It's easy to forget--yet useful to remember--especially when the debunker lectures consciousness about what it cannot possibly observe.

The above-linked article is an interesting read. We barely know how sleep works--just barely--but anesthesia?  Sobering thought (though we're fairly sure how intoxication works).  The article seeks to reassure us, but I'm not so reassured.

Doctors attempted to put me under only once, without success. Prior to the procedure, practically everyone said, "Oh, you won't remember a thing. You'll wake up in the recovery room and think you've been out for a few seconds."

Only I didn't. When it became apparent that the first round of drugs didn't knock me out, in went another needle. "You've had some high-powered anesthesia..." muttered the physician, letting the thought dangle.  But I was still conscious; just slightly disassociated.  I saw and felt everything. "You're fighting the anesthesia," the physician finally warned--with the implicit assumption that, somehow, becoming unconscious was something that consciousness should just voluntarily do.

I hadn't really thought of this experience much until I read the io9 article.  And I wonder, now, why did anesthesia not work on me when it works on everyone else?  Is there something different about my consciousness?  Was it a matter (no pun) of the anesthesia failing to work on my physical mechanism, or was it my conscious refusal to allow it to?  Did my consciousness trump matter?

Or, carrying this mind experiment further, is it possible that our concept of consciousness is an artificial construct?  Is what we assume to be consciousness merely our illusion of what it should be?  If consciousness is an artificial creation, who is the creator?  And have we hypnotized ourselves into accepting a certain limited brand of consciousness when in fact we are capable of more?  (My personal answer to the last question is "yes," for many reasons.)

Science and Metaphysics

While traipsing through the literature on extra-physical perception of (for lack of a better term) the "greater reality," I decided to briefly touch on the question of science, and metaphysics...

This blog has ultimately focused on the question of what is perceivable, what is knowable, and what we can confidently conclude, of all that we perceive of phenomena "outside" our official one, is "real"--the essence of metaphysics.

If you are a dabbler researching UFOs, or a physician pondering NDEs, you will reach this crossroad, sooner or later... Because you eventually realize that what you are trying to understand has no analog in our official reality.

Science argues (not unpersuasively) that *everything* that we regard as supernatural can be *ultimately* explained as anomalies of perception. Science has a lot of support on its side. Historically, much of what we thought was supernatural has turned out to be "natural," once we understood the physical laws behind it. So, it's not unrealistic to expect that even our present mysteries will be "explained" in like fashion.

I somewhat agree with this position. What I personally believe, however--and I'm even willing to bet money on this--is that science will eventually validate supernatural phenomena--by expanding our view of what is "natural."  One hundred years from now, we probably won't be arguing whether consciousness survives physical death (assuming our species survives). We will assume that it does. We'll be focused on other dilemmas.

In the meantime, science has a lot to contribute to this debate. Informed scientific speculation can identify known perceptive anomalies, faulty logic, shoddy research, and other biases and distortions. Those who claim allegiance to science can do better than tearing down thoughtful examinations of the phenomena on Wikipedia in guerrilla fashion.  This is not science, but is what such attackers accuse people who study the phenomena of: unquestioned belief.

Observations on "Dreaming Of The Dead"

"Dreaming Of The Dead: Personal Stories Of Comfort & Hope" by Marilou Trask-Curtin is, in my opinion, is the most solid discussion of the subject that I've read, and I've read quite a few. I won't try to deconstruct or summarize the book--my advice is to just read it, even if you're only remotely interested in the subject.

Amazon.com doesn't seem to be promoting the book--it never appeared in the crawl of "recommended books" by James Van Praagh and others of that ilk that Amazon thinks I ought to read--so most readers will have to find it serendipitously, like I did.

I can vouch for this book because I've personally experienced much of what Ms. Trask-Curtin has (but not as dramatically), and so have most of you. In fact, dream (and other) contact with the "dead" is probably the most common human experience involving the supernatural. It is a universal human experience that is rarely discussed or studied.  While doctrinaire materialists argue that there's "no scientific proof" for conscious survival of physical death, practically *everyone* can truthfully say, "Well, that may be true, but let me tell you about this vivid dream that I had after my parent / friend / partner passed..."

One of the hidden strengths of Ms. Trask-Curtin's book is that she never falls into the trap of trying to "explain" or rationalize her experiences; she doesn't speculate on what they might "mean"; nor does she digress into lengthy ponderings on what the afterlife is or isn't (all of which I would have done, had I written it).  She simply tells her story.

This, of course, does not prevent *me* from making some observations, because I had quite a few "ah ha!" moments throughout the book.

For example:  Ms. Trask-Curtin coins the term "youthening"--the opposite of "aging"--to describe the phenomenon where spirits progressively grow younger and younger during the encounter. While many researchers argue that "spirits" (I dislike the term, but can't think of a better one) can choose to display themselves of any chronological age (usually the prime age of the mid-thirties), I don't think that anyone else has quite made this specific observation. But I had such a dream, and for years, I never understood what it meant. In the dream, my grandfather appeared and discussed the afterlife with me (because, he said, I was "interested in the subject"). At the end of the discussion, I watched as my grandfather quickly morphed from an elderly man, all the way back to a young boy of about age seven. Why this happens--and why spirits appear this way--is unknown, but this observational tidbit is impressive.

Practically all dream encounters with spirit beings that Ms. Trask-Curtin describes take place in what seem to be quasi-physical environments that look very much like our physical world. These environments are described as actual locations "somewhere" (though not on our physical plane)... And it's understood that both the spirit and the physical experiencer can return to these locations, at will, later. I think that this is quite interesting. It seems that what is being described is a mid-plane that operates as a transit point and meeting place between the "dead" and those still physically incarnated... This location is apparently a well-known landmark. Is this the so-called "astral plane" (another term I dislike)?  Or is it, simply, another "world," like our physical one, operating at a different frequency, making it invisible to the physical?  And if this is the case, "where" are the dead?  In a realm so far removed from the physical that it would be impossible for us to interact with them?  Of course, none of this is neither here nor there--but it's the sort of thing I enjoy speculating about.

More completely irrelevant speculations to follow...

The slow death of Wikipedia, among other things...

I have noticed (and observed) that in recent months, practically all Wikipedia articles involving metaphysical or "edge" topics now feature a prominent "criticism" section. Sometimes, this criticism is justified; at other times, it's merely a hatchet debunking job. Casual readers may not know the difference between justified and bogus criticism, and this is why this so pernicious. There is now evidence that what I've noticed is, in fact, deliberate and disciplined disinformation by materialist belief zealots.

I won't wade into the debate of whether this is justified, valid, useful, nor speculate on whether some darker force might be attacking metaphysical speculation under the rubric of rigorous scientific examination. I will just say, simply, that when I go to Wikipedia to read about a topic of interest, I go first to the criticism section and carefully weigh out the arguments against. Do debunkers extend the same courtesy to the theories that they seek to annihilate?

All the Jane Roberts "Early Sessions" are now out on Kindle

...though I have to confess that I'm just beginning Book 4. (I read the soft-back versions a while back.)  One of the notable features of the Seth material is that you can read it over and over, yet come away thinking you've read it, again, for the first time--new facets jump out each time. Is a bit of Seth witchery? Or is just my early-onset Oldtimers?  (Probably both.)

My Seth re-journey has been slightly interrupted, however, by a very good book that I can happily endorse, even though I'm only half-way through it:  "Dreaming Of a The Dead: Personal Stories Of Comfort & Hope," by Marilou Trask-Curtain. It is, in a way, a very "quiet" book, but well-told. I found this book, surprisingly, while doing a search for infrared photos of cemeteries. I'm not entirely sure how this happened. Amazon.com has a (probably patented) method of serving up recommendations on what customers should read based on prior searches and purchases. Yet this book never appeared. If I had the energy, time, or inclination to wonder about this, I would.  For now, I'm just glad that I found it.

So how *do* I decide which books I recommend, or don't?  Really, it comes down to gut intuition, and personal experience. I know what Marilou Trask-Curtain writes is "true," because I've personally experienced the same thing.

Against my better judgement (Really!)

So I'm feeling better, and I decided to listen to a few paranormal podcasts.  We've all gone there and done that.  My findings thereon, to wit:

I listened to an interview (on an unnamed podcast) with Rosemary Ellen Guiley regarding her latest book, "Dream Messages From The Afterlife."  I bought the book, and Ms. Guiley's interview was good.  She is always good, though the attentive reader will remember that she did have a problem with guilt-by-association with Phil Imbrogno on their Djinn book.  I did not buy that book, because I'm not sure that I believe in the Djinn, and I'm not interested in the subject anyway.  Nonetheless, I respect Ms. Guiley, and while her podcast did not tell me anything I didn't already know (she quoted liberally from "Messages: Signs, Visits, and Premonitions from Loved Ones Lost on 9/11" by Bonnie McEnearey, which I think is one of the best books on the subject), I enjoyed it.

So Rosemary Ellen Guiley was the gateway drug back to the paranormal.

Next podcast was someone I had never heard of, an apparently well-known abductee named Derrel Sims. Mr. Sims struck me immediately as bogus.  Readers of this blog will note that while I was once a believer in "abductions," I'm now an ardent skeptic (or, more correctly, disbeliever), and I automatically reject any traditional abduction narrative--particularly contemporary ones.  (And I speak as an experiencer.)  After about thirty minutes, I terminated the podcast.  To the credit of this particular show, the consensus of this show's forum posters is that Sims is (quote) "full of it," "a clown," and "self-aggrandizing."   Which causes me to wonder why this particular show features this individual and has interviewed him several times.

Whilst browsing this same forum, I saw a mud-slinging between the show's primary host and "a former pay-per-listen podcast host and present-day blogger" who had accused the host of lying about a conversation several years ago involving employment at a radio station.  Well, intrigued at all this, and suspecting this offending blogger's identity, I went Googling to find it.  Which I did.  And while I do not agree with Jeremy Vaeni on a few things, he is capable of writing a splendid insult, so his take-down of Stan Romanek (who I'm not very familiar with anymore) as well as the podcast host was well worth the search--as well as being a timely reminder (as if we needed one) of the perils of too-close an association with the paranormal.  (I was one of those who, a while back, donated money to this podcast host.  I remember doing a Google Streetview of what he said his residential address was, in one of his then incessant pleas, and it was clearly a shot of one of those strip mall store areas.)

So, I'm not sure where I'm going to go from here.  I am at a point in life, however, where I'm happy to view the paranormal  largely as entertainment, viewed from a distance.  A safe distance.