Tag Archives: kundalini

dangerous weapons

Dangerous Weapons

Apparently a lot of people are tuned in to http://x22report.com/; I’m not yet one of them (there is a lot of this kind of thing out there on the Internet), but maybe I should be.

“… James Tracy speaks with Dave, an economic and political analyst, webmaster and host of the X22 Report. They discuss potential catastrophic events in coming months, Jade Helm, the increasingly desperate moves of central planners to prop up fiat currencies and related geopolitical developments attached to sustaining the petrodollar, including the assault on Syria. Dave also explains how broader political and economic concerns impact personal finances, and what one can do in terms of preparedness. He asserts that since 2008 major economic interests have been preparing themselves for further market turmoil, and the present economic paradigm is not feasible past 2016. Presently a struggle is on between China and Russia, and Western central banks that will likely seek to reintroduce similar fiscal programs once a major crisis has been endured. Dave has worked as a stockbroker and technical advisor for several prominent Wall Street firms. Now based in Florida, he is devoted to providing daily analyses of economic and political developments on the X22 Report’s website and two YouTube Channels, X22 Report and X22 Report Spotlight.



[Ed.: Maybe this has something to do with Benjamin Fulford’s thesis; perhaps someone with the requisite audio tools and experience can convene what the late great Gabriel Garcia Marquez called a tertulliana, one involving Dave, Charles Hugh Smith, Benjamin Fulford and a small army of economics gurus and expert news watchers to see what can be sorted out for the common man. Serious consideration must be given to asking Catherine Austin Fitts for her participation, given the quality and depth of foresight seen here as well as her long-standing understanding of 9/11, narco-dollars, financial maping, etc. 

Tertulliana were, as described in Love in The Time of Cholera [and below], late afternoon meetings of journalists who, having spent the day poring over the news of the world, met over coffee and more to discuss the implications of what they had gleaned.



“Some 50 years ago, there were no schools of journalism. One learned  the trade in the newsroom, in the print shops, in the local cafe and in Friday-night hangouts. The entire newspaper was a factory where journalists were made and the news was printed without quibbles. We journalists always hung together, we had a life in common and were so passionate about our work that we didn’t talk about anything else. The work promoted strong friendships among the group, which left little room for a personal life.

There were no scheduled editorial meetings, but every afternoon at 5pm, the entire newspaper met for an unofficial coffee break somewhere in the newsroom, and took a breather from the daily tensions. It was an open discussion where we reviewed the hot themes of the day in each section of the newspaper and gave the final touches to the next day’s edition.

The newspaper was then divided into three large departments: news, features and editorial. The most prestigious and sensitive was the editorial department; a reporter was at the bottom of the heap, somewhere between an intern and a gopher. Time and the profession itself has proved that the nerve centre of journalism functions the other way. At the age of 19 I began a career as an editorial writer and slowly climbed the career ladder through hard work to the top position of cub reporter.

Then came schools of journalism and the arrival of technology. The graduates from the former arrived with little knowledge of grammar and syntax, difficulty in understanding concepts of any complexity and a dangerous misunderstanding of the profession in which the importance of a “scoop” at any price overrode all ethical considerations.

The profession, it seems, did not evolve as quickly as its instruments of work. Journalists were lost in a labyrinth of technology madly rushing the profession into the future without any control. In other words: the newspaper business has involved itself in furious competition for material modernisation, leaving behind the training of its foot soldiers, the reporters, and abandoning the old mechanisms of participation that strengthened the professional spirit. Newsrooms have become a sceptic laboratories for solitary travellers, where it seems easier to communicate with extraterrestrial phenomena than with readers’ hearts. The dehumanisation is galloping.

Before the teletype and the telex were invented, a man with a vocation for martyrdom would monitor the radio, capturing from the air the news of the world from what seemed little more than extraterrestrial whistles.  A well-informed writer would piece the fragments together, adding background and other relevant details as if reconstructing the skeleton of a dinosaur from a single vertebra. Only editorialising was forbidden, because that was the sacred right of the newspaper’s publisher, whose editorials, everyone assumed, were written by him, even if they weren’t, and were always written in impenetrable and labyrinthine prose, which, so history relates, were then unravelled by the publisher’s personal typesetter often hired for that express purpose.

Today fact and opinion have become entangled: there is comment in news reporting; the editorial is enriched with facts. The end product is none the better for it and never before has the profession been more dangerous. Unwitting or deliberate mistakes, malign manipulations and poisonous distortions can turn a news item into a dangerous weapon.

Quotes from “informed sources” or “government officials” who ask to remain anonymous, or by observers who know everything and whom nobody knows, cover up all manner of violations that go unpunished. But the guilty party holds on to his right not to reveal his source, without asking himself whether he is a gullible tool of the source, manipulated into passing on the information in the form chosen by his source. I believe bad journalists cherish their source as their own life – especially if it is an official source – endow it with a mythical quality, protect it, nurture it and ultimately develop a dangerous complicity with it that leads them to reject the need for a second source.

At the risk of becoming anecdotal, I believe that another guilty party in this drama is the tape recorder. Before it was invented, the job was done well with only three elements ofwork: the notebook, foolproof ethics and a pair of ears with which we reporters listened to what the sources were telling us. The professional and ethical manual for the tape recorder has not been invented yet. Somebody needs to teach young reporters that the recorder is not a substitute for the memory, but a simple evolved version of the serviceable, old-fashioned notebook.

The tape recorder listens, repeats – like a digital parrot – but it does not think; it is loyal, but it does not have a heart; and, in the end, the literal version it will have captured will never be as trustworthy as that kept by the journalist who pays attention to the real words of the interlocutor and, at the same time, evaluates and qualifies them from his knowledge and experience.

The tape recorder is entirely to blame for the undue importance now attached to the interview. Given the nature of radio and television, it is only to be expected that it became their mainstay. Now even the print media seems to share the erroneous idea that the voice of truth is not that of the journalist but of the interviewee. Maybe the solution is to return to the lowly little notebook so the journalist can edit intelligently as he listens, and relegate the tape recorder to its real role as invaluable witness.

It is some comfort to believe that ethical transgressions and other problems that degrade and embarrass today’s journalism are not always the result of immorality, but also stem from the lack of professional skill. Perhaps the misfortune of schools of journalism is that while they do teach some useful tricks of the trade, they teach little about the profession itself. Any training in schools of journalism must be based on three fundamental principles: first and foremost, there must be aptitude and talent; then the knowledge that “investigative” journalism is not something special, but that all journalism must, by definition, be investigative; and, third, the awareness that ethics are not merely an occasional condition of the trade, but an integral part, as essentially a part of each other as the buzz and the horsefly.

The final objective of any journalism school should, nevertheless, be to return to basic training on the job and to restore journalism to its original public service function; to reinvent those passionate daily 5pm informal coffee-break seminars of the old newspaper office.






Tricks you need to transform something which appears fantastic, unbelievable into something plausible, credible, those I learned from journalism. The key is to tell it straight. It is done by reporters and by country folk.

Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/g/gabriel_garcia_marquez.html#wIZLjTfycHwhuWux.99




“… “I don’t know that there’ll ever be an apology. Maybe the two countries can find language that brings them together to say ‘you know we acknowledge that serious hurt was done on both sides and we own that and going forward we pledge not to do something like that’ but it doesn’t feel at this point that there will ever be a flat out apology from the US to Japan or the other way around,” he explained.

Harry Truman acted in good faith and believed he was saving many Americans’ lives, Daniel said. This was the prime consideration for the president, who had first-hand experience of battlefield during World War I and valued soldiers’ lives, he explained.

He admitted that controversy over Truman’s decision remains, as some people believe that the use of nuclear weapons was not necessary.

“The real question which we keep trying to answer but we can’t is did it in fact stop the war. Some people say no, Japan would have surrendered anyway; other people say they were not giving up, it stopped them cold,” Daniel said. “But we can’t know that because we did it and the war ended, so we don’t know how it would have gone.”


[Ed.: Harry Truman was grievously misled by advisors who were Skull&Bones (Stimson), others who were associated with Zionism, who were corrupt and corrupting and representing greed. He had been kept in the dark about the Manhattan Project and was handed an option. Stalin was better informed about its existence than Truman.  Japan’s entreaties for peace were purposefully delayed for months by theoretically-independent neutral brokers who were tied into the same global financial octopus which drove the world in World War II and at that time was working overtime to steal the spoils of gold and and the secrets of human experimentation and bring them to the US.]



NSA Tried Stuxnet Cyber-Attack on North Korea Five Years Ago but Failed

August 6th, 2015 by Kevin

Via: Guardian:

The US tried to deploy a version of the Stuxnet computer virus to attack North Korea’s nuclear weapons programme five years ago but ultimately failed, according to people familiar with the covert campaign.

The operation began in tandem with the now-famous Stuxnet attack that sabotaged Iran’s nuclear programme in 2009 and 2010 by destroying a thousand or more centrifuges that were enriching uranium. Reuters and others have reported that the Iran attack was a joint effort by US and Israeli forces.

According to one US intelligence source, Stuxnet’s developers produced a related virus that would be activated when it encountered Korean-language settings on an infected machine.

But US agents could not access the core machines that ran Pyongyang’s nuclear weapons programme, said another source, a former high-ranking intelligence official who was briefed on the programme.

Posted in Covert Operations, Technology, War







[Ed.: I have been a long-term user of HoloSync’s binaural-beats guided meditation systems — I had graduated to the third level when I was diagnosed in 2007 with moderate-to-severe aortic stenosis requiring replacement of the aortic valve via open-heart surgery; the cardiologist told me my heart wasn’t strong enough to undergo the procedure. 

I skipped town and slipped down the backside of the mid-Atlantic Appalachian ridge into a holler on whose slopes I experienced the rapid onset of pleural edema; I applied the lessons of the book “Deep Survival”, slid downhill into a chemical stress test during which I flat-lined, and much much later read a book written by a scientist/engineer working on the technical side of cardiology and whose interest in consciousness led him to study the reverberations resonating the heartbeat through the aorta. In the appendix, his explanation suggested that I dumped all the stress in my life out through the aortic valve during the kundalini-like descent into brain wave states for healing and compassion. 

His findings resulted in a “scientifically verifiable version of the kundalini concept”, according to Gurmukh Kaur Khalsa (2009). Kundalini Rising: Exploring the Energy of Awakening. Sounds True. p. 247. ISBN 978-1591797289

But I’ve asked every doctor I’ve met and been treated by — since the psychopharmacologist who listened to the same CD I did (and who had the signatory tonic/clonic body twitch at the same moment on the tape as I experienced mine) said “this is better than crack”) — what they know about or can find out about this phenomenon, and I have never received any answer beyond an unknowing blankness.  

Insights on continuing binaural beats-based audio meditation are hard to come by. Marketing materials are widely available; you can dial up a wide variety of these types of programs on YouTube or by direct mail order for CD’s.  

But the problem is that, by whatever method you choose to use, you bypass your brain’s own filters and build a back door into your own subconscious mind through which you feed or place “affirmations” or deep subconscious suggestions to achieve whatever outcome you desire.  This is what is taught to athletes and others in the form of auto-suggestion.  

Purveyors of the audio forms, using proprietary and non-proprietary technical understanding and technology, create and build voice form subliminals (in non-audible frequencies) that are embedded in the binaural tones and audio. Holosync has you record the affirmations you wrote for yourself in your own voice and buries them subliminally. 

It follows that you respond to your own voice most readily. The bones in your inner ear move when you talk to yourself silently; the sound of your barely-audible voice travels or resonates through your skull bones, jaw and into the rest of your body from there. Chanting, the kind used by monks for centuries or others in other spiritual traditions for millenia, resonate out of your throat and into your chest cavity.  I was exposed forty years ago to scientific papers about acoustics in cathedrals and the development of chanting by a lapsed Maronite monk who was a student of composiiton at the Berkeley College of Music.

But the question – given what we read about hacking, mind control, and the domestic shenanignans of the security state — is “Who do you trust?”

DublinMick’s piece on the guru-student relationship  suggests that ‘you can’t get there unless you have the right guru’ and, like many, I’ve spent a lifetime looking for the right guru. 

I suspect I had been provided one but that the karmic gods threw me a curveball when she died five days after she gave birth to me, allegedly helped along by the violent tendencies of my father, a fact made evident to me just recently as I approach a major transition in my own life cycle, hence my interest in re-incarnation and related topics. The search for that guru probably explains in part the effort behind the collection on ‘how to use your mind…’, the summary of which is that you are your own guru; simply look within and harness what was given to you at birth. 

But the kundalini aspects resonate with me for three reasons: 1) the OBE mutually experienced by me and my life-mate during lovemaking with a background of Richard Harris narrating Kahlil Gibran’s Prophet; 2) the epiphany I had on the rocks at Pemaquid; and 3) the book on the secret lessons taught to the disciples written by the 9/11 researcher Mark Gaffney.

I fully embrace the thought that we ought not to be quick to post the theolgical/life/journalistic insights of some fellow from across the chasms of the Internet, but when what you read resonates with what you have experienced in life, there is a certain vibration that sets up.  That’s what happened the first time I read some of the passages in The Gospel According To Thomas. ] 


‘hot date with God’

A  ‘hot date with God’: I was watching TV Tuesday night… I don’t watch it often but my wife and I both are very interested in the mini-series “Proof” starring the attractive and brilliant heart surgeon and the supremely-wealthy entrepeneur chasing down the facts on the entire arena of near-death-similar paranormal events, my wife’s interest being based on an orientation to “past lives”, reincarnation, etc., my interest from having had an NDE … when an ad came on that made me sit up and take notice.

High-end production quality and a focus on 9/11 on a mainstream media channel will do that, and the ad focused on the people who died on 9/11. And then it launched into a suggestion that we “walk” in remembrance, and I gave the TV set the finger.

My wife immediately made a silent note not to go near me for the next 12 hours, and I failed to make note of the advertiser or the charity/sponsor.  At the end of the TV show, I took my re-triggered anger back into my office and began to contemplate what action I could take. I’ve been unable to identify who the advertiser or sponsor were since then, though there have been annual events on the anniversary (which approaches) so I assume it is related and I wonder who organizes them and where the money goes.

Back in my man-cave of an office, I thought about praying for some sort of guidance. I thought about meditating. These would calm me down, at the very least.

My thoughts immediately turned to what I’d read before about unspeakable evil.  The names rattled through my synaptic tree: James Douglass, Thomas Merton, JFK, Gandhi…  I asked the modern-day Delphi oracle (the Internet search engine) to prompt me.

“Come, come, whoever you are. Wanderer, worshipper, lover of leaving. It doesn’t matter. Ours is not a caravan of despair. Come, even if you have broken your vows a thousand times. Come, yet again, come, come.”   Rumi

Centering Prayer is based on the wisdom saying of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount : “ … when you pray, go to your inner room, close the door and pray to your Father in secret. And your Father, who sees in secret, will reward you” (Matthew 6:6).

Fr. Thomas Keating [author of many books but who wrote the introduction in Kundalini Energy and Christian Spirituality: A Pathway to Growth and Healing, by Philip St Romain, illus. Intro. by Thomas Keating (1991) ISBN 0-8245-1062-3 ] has jokingly mused that our practice of Centering Prayer is our ‘hot date with God’ as a way to encourage its relational aspect, and in response to people asking how to make a commitment to their practice.



Thomas Merton Quotes on Evil

  • There are crimes that no one would commit as an individual which he willingly and bravely commits when acting in the name of his society, because he has been (too easily) convinced that evil is entirely different when it is done “for the common good.” As an example, one might point to the way in which racial hatreds and even persecution are admitted by people who consider themselves, and perhaps in some sense are, kind, tolerant, civilized and even humane. But they have acquired a special deformity of conscience as a result of their identification with their group, their immersion in their particular society.
  • Thomas Merton Quotes from YummyQuotes.com


Source of image:


Martin Luther King, Jr., famously stated, “He who passively accepts evil is as much involved in it as he who helps to perpetrate it. He who accepts evil without protesting against it is really cooperating with it.” Dr. King also said, “‎History will have to record that the greatest tragedy of this period of social transition was not the strident clamor of the bad people, but the appalling silence of the good people.”

Dietrich Bonhoeffer likewise would agree that this is an eyes-wide-open, deep moral problem. Said Bonhoeffer, “Silence in the face of evil is itself evil: God will not hold us guiltless. Not to speak is to speak. Not to act is to act.”

Silence Is Blasphemy


I read a few pages of P.M.H. Atwater’s book on near-death experiences; pages 43-48 offers up the story of Barney Clark, the first recipient of an artificial heart transplant, followed by the tales of a surgeon who treated dozens of victims from the Vietnamese battle scenario in Hue, Saul’s moment on the road to Damascus, other transformative events to a wide range of people, that of Robert Carter III of Nomini Hall Plantation in Virginia, that of the Northumbrian Drythelm as recorded by the Venerable Bede in the 8th century, the experience of JZ Knight/Ramtha, and others.


Among the psychological difficulties associated with intensive spiritual practice we find “Kundalini awakening”, “a complex physio-psychospiritual transformative process described in the yogic tradition”.[46] Researchers in the fields of Transpersonal psychology,[47] and Near-death studies[48][49] have described a complex pattern of sensory, motor, mental and affective symptoms associated with the concept of Kundalini, sometimes called the Kundalini syndrome.[50]

The references are to
Y. Kason, Farther Shores, Exploring How Near-Death, Kundalini and Mystical Experiences Can Transform Ordinary Lives, iUniverse (2000)


Greyson B. Near-death experiences and the physio-kundalini syndrome. Journal of Religion and Health. 1993 Dec;32(4):277-90. PMID 24271550



Source: http://www.catholica.com.au/specials/MertonSpirituality/005_ms_print.php

I ordered a copy of “Kundalini Energy & Christian Spirituality: a Pathway to Growth”.


The 70th Anniversary of the Bombing of Nagasaki

Unwelcome Truths for Church and State

by Gary G. Kohls / August 4th, 2015

70 years ago (August 9, 1945) an all-Christian bomber crew dropped a plutonium bomb over Nagasaki City, Japan, instantly vaporizing, incinerating or otherwise annihilating tens of thousands of innocent civilians, a disproportionately large number of them Japanese Christians. The explosion mortally wounded uncountable thousands of other victims who succumbed to the blast, the intense heat and/or the radiation.


August 1, 1945 was the earliest deployment date for the Japanese bombing missions, and the Target Committee in Washington, D.C. had already developed a list of relatively un-damaged Japanese cities that were to be excluded from the conventional USAAF (US Army Air Force) fire-bombing campaigns (that, during the first half of 1945, had used napalm to burn to the ground over 60 essentially defenseless Japanese cities).

The list of protected cities included Hiroshima, Niigata, Kokura, Kyoto and Nagasaki. Those five cities were to be off-limits to the terror bombings that the other cities were being subjected to. They were to be preserved as potential targets for the new “gimmick” weapon that had been researched and developed in labs and manufacturing plants all across America over the several years since the Manhattan Project had begun.

Ironically, prior to August 6 and 9, the residents of those five cities considered themselves lucky for not having been bombed as had the other large cities. Little did the residents of Hiroshima and Nagasaki know that they were only being temporarily spared from an even worse carnage in an experiment with a new weapon that could cause the mass destruction of entire cities that were populated with hundreds of thousands of live human guinea pigs.


At 11:02 am, during Thursday morning mass, hundreds of Nagasaki Christians were boiled, evaporated, carbonized or otherwise disappeared in a scorching, radioactive fireball that exploded 500 meters above the cathedral. The black rain that soon came down from the mushroom cloud contained the mingled cellular remains of many Nagasaki Shintoists, Buddhists and Christians. The theological implications of Nagasaki’s Black Rain surely should boggle the minds of theologians of all denominations.

The Nagasaki Christian Body Count

Most Nagasaki Christians did not survive the blast. 6,000 of them died instantly, including all who were at confession that morning. Of the 12,000 church members, 8,500 of them eventually died as a result of the bomb. Many of the others were seriously sickened with a highly lethal entirely new disease: radiation sickness.

Three orders of nuns and a Christian girl’s school nearby disappeared into black smoke or became chunks of charcoal. Tens of thousands of other innocent, non-Christian non-combatants also died instantly, and many more were mortally or incurably wounded. Some of the victim’s progeny are still suffering from the trans-generational malignancies and immune deficiencies caused by the deadly plutonium and other radioactive isotopes produced by the bomb.

And here is one of the most important ironic points of this article: What the Japanese Imperial government could not do in 250 years of persecution (i.e., to destroy Japanese Christianity) American Christians did in mere seconds.


Years ago I saw an unpublished Veteran’s Administration study that showed that, whereas most Vietnam War-era soldiers were active members of Christian churches before they went off to war, if they came home with PTSD, the percentage returning to their faith community approached zero. Daniel Hallock’s sobering message above helps explain why that is so.

Therefore the church – at least by its silence on the issue of war – seems to be promoting homicidal violence, contrary to the ethical teachings of Jesus, by failing to teach what the primitive church understood was one of the core teachings of Jesus, who said, in effect, that “violence is forbidden for those who wish to follow me”.

Therefore, by refraining from warning their adolescent members about the faith- and soul-destroying realities of war, the church is directly undermining the “retention” strategies in which all churches engage. The hidden history of Nagasaki has valuable lessons for American Christianity.





Finally, I wandered over to the mind unleashed.org where the-whistle-blower-that-everyone-is-soon-to-know caught my attention and answered the question “Who Is Benjamin Fulford?” and it lead me to this:


I don’t what to make of this. On one hand, it’s “above my pay grade” but appears to be comfortably within the grasp of Fulford’s. On the other hand, it appears to be artfully crafted in its selction of text and prose, saying a lot, crafting a tale that is plausible, yet leaving significant gaps in substantative proof or at least evidence. Once associated with Forbes, which described itself as a “capitalist tool”, we are told Fulford is an unknown, but not to search engines, where he appears to have made appearances around the globe with a wide number of people who would readily be described as on the outer rings of the conspircy theory world.

Go ahead and read “The Real Reson Behind the 9/11 Terror…”  and see what you think.

Scan these as well:



http://goldenageofgaia.com/2011/09/17/david-wilcocks-exclusive-interview-with-benjamin-fulford/ [This one notes Fulford’s sources as saying “the earthquakes that occurred in Colorado and the Washington DC area, surrounding August 22nd and 23rd, were, in fact, apparently nuclear strikes against underground military facilities.”]


http://rense.com/Datapages/fulfdat.htm [How deep you want to go?]

When you have run out your own personal string of online inquiry, watch for a report coming out in two days from Wayne Madsen Reports and be sure to get  a hot date with God.


something beyond

Proof is a TV show that is perhaps as controversial as several conspiracy theories, but I can assure you that the question of “is there something beyond death?” is a frequent topic in Western medical circles. I was asked specifically after my own near-death experience (nothing to see here, the docs were pros and quick about it). Perhaps I didn’t need to have one; my passport had already been stamped. One of the doctors on the case had a parallel experience at the same time outside the hospital and there was a calendar page from 12/16/07 saved as a bit of memorabilia now lost to the ages, unlike the memory or the experience. But, to borrow a phrase from the late great Ed Encho, I digress…. 

It is said that you don’t begin to inquire or believe until you have had your own experience; such experience can be mimicked, simulated or even actuated with entheogenic drugs. 

Epiphany is as good a word as any, but there is a broad range of related words, experiences or explanations. Altered, or higher, states of consciousness have been explored for a very long time by a great many people. I once owned a book about 251 ways to enter into an altered state of consciousness. 

I’ve noted that I’ve had an OBE, an epiphany and a theophany.  They are part and parcel of my own inquiries, an example of Eric Booth’s spectrum of curiosity, interest, admiration, concern, connection, resonance and change. Having an OBE probably helped set me on my course of inquiry that has brought me to this point. The three parallel experiences certainly changed me, and make things resonate within.

The OBE was one I shared with the woman who became my wife and the mother of my two children. It made some sense when I discovered and read Mark Gaffney’s book on the initiatory teachings of ther Last Supper (he’s the fellow who wrote about the mystery plane of 9/11 too) and when I read of Marghanita Laski’s research into rhythm and movement in Murphy’s book “In The Zone”, so it would seem that the rhythm and movement we imparted into and through our spinal/kundalini systems, aligned as they were, took us to a different place. As Gaffney points out, perhaps the preacher and his first disciple experienced the same thing. And then decades later there is Bentov’s book “Stalking The Wild Pendulum” which is an exploration of how sound and electrical impulse travel through the aorta and its relationship to kundalini, something quite similar to the effects of binaural-beat brain-wave meditation, which I did at length in the months prior to the events of December 2007. 

The epiphany was perhaps similarly a doorway that had been created by the warmth on my spine of the sun-bathed granite shelving of coastal Maine as I meditated quietly listening to the rhythmic waves of the sea on that shoreline. I slipped through that door left slightly ajar like a silent cat discovering a new way.  It was an extended cosmic moment that cannot be eexplained, only experienced. I’ve had briefer almost nearly instantaneous glimpses since then; some might think them akin to flashbacks.  But once you’ve been there, as it says, they can never take that away from you. 

The theophany occured when my second-born child was two and in the full throes of a middle-of-the-night colicky crankiness that, if you’re a parent, you’ve probably experienced. The adults are beyond themselves with lack of sleep and fatigue from work, and there’s a child needing attention and cradling and more.  As you near the end of your rope, there are exasperations that could lead to gross parental mis-step and, crammed up into the corner of a dormer roof in the nursery where quite literally no one else could fit, I felt the grip of a hand on my shoulder taking no uncertain posession of my attention and my intent with a message that was transmitted mysteriously but unequivocally and which told me to be gentle with one for whom He had great things in store.  Say what you will, but the child was calmed instantly into peaceful sleep, as was the parent.  If you’ve read the e-book, you know something of what happened in the child’s life. She’s approaching 40 and has her own children and classrooms full of other kids. 

Now, in the past, I’d mentioned Eben Alexander’s book highly-controversial book, but such inquiry has been with us since the days of Kubler-Ross and others.  The TV show is nice in that it’s a light introduction to the concepts and features interesting characters, but if you want to study along at home, I’d recommend the following:


http://www.beyondword.com/product/Epiphanies-01679 [The bibliography and suggested reading at the back of this book is stunning.]


55-minute audio interview:


Quotes from the book:

“Mind-matter-time, thought to be distinct, are so intertwined that they might be better off thought of as aspects of one another, of something alive.”

“Even while tales of revelation are cornerstones of the world’s great religions, we formalize them as myth and keep our transcendent moments secret from each other and from ourselves, so as not to appear fatuous or flat-out crazy.”

“… revelation, transcendent and transforming, is often dangerous. It is an elevator-stomach moment, a stop-everything.”

“Disabled people must concentrate on areas in which they can compete with anyone.”

“Post-traumatic stress or PTSD is a relatively new diagnostic label first coined to describe the long-lasting thoughts and mood disturbances reported by veterans of the Vietnam war. The diagnosis has since been expanded to describe persistent states of distress reported by adults or children who’ve been confronted by death, violence, or serious injury.”

“In his best-selling book Healing words, the power of prayer in the practice of medicine, the physician and author Larry Dossey writes sternly about silent prayer, unconscious prayer, prayers are answered before they are made. He talks about experimental trials with ‘distant intentionality’ …..”


Source of image: http://www.intechopen.com/books/complementary-therapies-for-the-contemporary-healthcare/distant-healing-by-the-supposed-vital-energy-scientific-bases [has a a downloadable chapter]





Here are five quotes from the book:

At the center of every account was the description of some radical extension of knowing, one that occupied body and soul, heart as well as mind. Now I began to reread with fresh eyes that vast body of recent research that explores knowing like that, knowing that emerges from beyond the intellect. The research comes from cognitive scientists, educators, neuroscientists, psychologists, and sociologists. None of it touches on knowing that’s apparently anomalous, but perhaps established research about these “peak moments” could help us start thinking about what happens at the other end of the spectrum.


During the subjects’ moments of deepest meditation and prayer, what stops firing were all the signals that tell us where to locate the boundaries that separate us from everything that isn’t us.


Human consciousness is able to extract information from physical aspects of its environment by some anomalous means that is independent of space and time.


Intuition is about recognizing internal impressions in an altered state of consciousness that simply doesn’t work in the same way as linear thinking.


… She could only access or extraordinary knowing by investing her work with personal meaning and connection.


Special attention might be paid to chapter 7 and the footnotes for that chapter that extend from ages 279 through to page 282.





Source of image: 






Approaching 800 pages in length, the entire book is a tour de force, superbly organized and footnoted, with an index and bibliography.  Danielle Prohom Olson describes it as an “exhaustive cross-cultural documentation of super-normal capacities (healing, telepathy, clairvoyance and feats of superhuman hearing, seeing and strength) demonstrated by yogis, Tibetan monks, indigenous shamans and high-level athletes….”.

I call your attention specifically to pages 195-230, as well as 112-116. After a discussion of involution and evolution, Murphy ends Chapter 7 with over four pages on the ideas that impede our understanding of metanormal development. 

Chapter 8 is about metanormal embodiment in legend, art and religious doctrine, Taoist legends about immortality, the “glorified body” in Christianity, and super-ordinary powers in cartoons, movies and science fiction. 

Chapter Nine delves into out-of-body experience, traveling clairvoyance, and dematerialization, as well as extraordinary conditions of energy and matter. 

Chapter Ten is devoted to post-mortem states and the afterlife. OBE’s are also covered on pages 112-116.

For more about Murphy, his archived research and works:



See also:

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/Irreducible Mind: Toward a Psychology for the 21st Century by Edward F. Kelly/ with CD [if you can afford it — I can’t]



There’s a necessary dying…Be ground. Be crumbled so wildflowers will come up where you are. You’ve been stony too many years. Try something different. Surrender.    -Rumi


Then there is this fellow:


[on the role of the posterior cingulate cortex in getting out of your own way][ten minutes]


http://www.huffingtonpost.com/dr-judson-brewer/ his blog



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6J0fqswzxWM (20:03)

The Future of the Mind

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cCNQo135FAA (90:00)

Judson Brewer, Md, PhD presentation at the Center for Mindfulness in Medicine, Health Care, and Society, March 10, 2014. See the web page at http://www.umassmed.edu/cfm/Resources… for the slide presentation.



Scientists get first-ever visual glimpse into how new concepts form inside brain


Published time: June 10, 2015 18:55

Scientists have figured out how newly learned concepts form in the human brain by visualizing how new information gets filed. They say this is the first time science visually witnessed how and where specific objects are coded in the brain.

Researchers at Carnegie Mellon University have managed to observe how different new knowledge is stored and how combinations of different pieces of this fresh information affect different parts of the brain. This is eventually used to tell the observer what the person is thinking about.

The accompanying research is published in the journal Human Brain Mapping.

University neuroscientist Marcel Just used the example of the 2013 discovery by the Smithsonian Institute of an entirely new species – an olinguito, which is a small South American carnivorous mammal. Those learning about the animal were able to immediately pickup new information for the first time, such as its habitat, diet, behaviour and so on.

Millions of people read the information about the olinguito and in doing so permanently changed their own brains,” Just explained.

“Our research happened to be examining this process precisely at that time in a laboratory setting. When people learned that the olinguito eats mainly fruit instead of meat, a region of their left inferior frontal gyrus—as well as several other areas—stored the new information according to its own code.”

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‘It’s like first man in space’: Russian patient to undergo first ever head-to-body transplant

4:40 PM – 12 Apr 2015

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The team also learned that people store new knowledge and its bits in the same way, using “the same filing system,” in the same brain areas.

Just and PhD student and lead author Andrew Bauer then gathered 16 study participants and monitored their brain activity while teaching them new information about eight extinct species of animals. They observed the emergence of new concepts in their brains by using an MRI machine, as the hour-long ingestion of new information progressed.

Having already conducted prior research in the field of brain imaging, the team knew where certain bits of information would pop up, such as information about an animal’s habitat or its dietary habits. Each category lights up a different part of the brain.

As all new concepts had different “activation signatures,” the scientists were able to see with the help of a computer program, which concepts the participants were thinking about, virtually allowing them to read their brains.





Rich people will become immortal cyborgs in 200 years – historian



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4:55 AM – 31 May 2015

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According to Just, “The activation signature of a concept is a composite of the different types of knowledge of the concept that a person has stored, and each type of knowledge is stored in its own characteristic set of regions.”

The team gained further insight into how the brain manages information. For example, new information does not eclipse something learned five minutes ago. Instead, “Each time we learn something, we permanently change our brains in a systematic way,” Bauer explains.

In conducting the research, Carnegie Mellon fused two prominent research areas at the university – one dealing with studying how brain architecture gives rise to complex behaviors; and one dealing with increasing the effectiveness of student learning.

Just and Bauer hope that knowing how the brain ingests new information could prove very useful to understanding the nature of better learning – what a student has problems with, or which bits of knowledge, which sink in better than others.


Getting Beyond

Getting Beyond:

Finding Purpose and Vitality After Enduring Systemic Insult



▶ David Crosby – Dangerous Night (Special) – YouTube


“Getting Beyond” consists of a hopefully-well-integrated series that totals over 200 pages but which is broken up for better digestion in the following manner: This is the main body of 45 pages with small inserts in pdf format.  It is dominantly my experience, thus deeply personal. It is followed by two sections of quoted excerpts from two books: “Deep Survival” and “Surviving Survival”, with two intervening and following sections on Tavistock, and on Porges’ polyvagal theory, the first short, the second one long. Links and videos are embedded throughout. These will be posted at



The final section is called “Alignment of Purpose”, which will follow in six hours here:

http://boydownthelane.com/2014/05/01/alignment-purpose/ ‎ 


source of image: http://blogs.hbr.org/2013/12/getting-beyond-the-narcissismadvertising-complex/

  Preface and Acknowledgement Laurence Gonzalez is a journalist recognized for his  insights into the mind under duress that are “accurate, accessible, up-to-date and insightful”. The very first story in his book I’ve credited online with helping save my life is about the mental and emotional glidepath markers of landing a Navy combat airplane on the pitching decks of an aircraft carrier at night. I trust that this distinguished author will understand why I have excerpted more than is usual and customary  for a review in an attempt to get you the reader to go out and buy the books, read them, and apply them to your own life. The second book, the impetus for this piece, has been called  a “realistic,and accessible self-help book on the potential of growth from suffering” and “an education for those wishing to be of use in a stressful, often frightening world”.


I’ve been suggesting that people buy and read books to learn more about how their mind/body/spirit unit works for two decades now. Gonzalez will then hopefully appreciate the line from that graceful old powerhouse of an intellect I met at the very end of her career — retired Admiral Grace Hopper — who said, clutching her handful of nanoseconds, “It’s easier to apologize than it is to ask permission”.  I’ve taken great liberties with his work without expressed permission, but it is laden with such insight and understanding that I make no apologies.


I must acknowledge “my funny valentine”. We’d been through some difficult back country, and we’re still hiking. There are bears on the trail, and wildcats, but she’s a trauma nurse and knows something about survival herself. I met her almost 40 years ago a few days before Valentine’s Day; she forgave me, and love still abounds. ▶ Pat Metheny Trio & Nils Landgren “My funny Valentine” – YouTube 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wdDJ0XwlJyM (7:51)


I acknowledge as well the small army of medical professionals with whom I have worked through the spectrum of discovery, testing, coordination, action, trial, error, support, rehabilitation, release, and follow-up. There are too many of them to be named, but they include cardiologists, experts in electrophysiology at three tiers, physical and occupational therapists, dozens of nurses, and Gene the equipment man, a pastor and jazz afficianado.

I acknowledge “Gabriel”, without whose care, attention and love I would probably be dead, or broken.  I offered to re-pay the $15K she coughed up to cover my expenses at a time when I had nothing.

She told me to “pay it forward”.

This is one of the payments.


The calligraphic art used as textual separators are the Chinese symbols for resilience.

I received an e-mail a few months ago from an author; it arrived out of the blue. But it was properly titled so I’d open it and it came from a name I recognized immediately: Laurence Gonzalez. I’d written to him a long time ago. I’d read his book Deep Survival years back and, after some reflection and recovery, credited him, in a review at Amazon [ Permalink ] and in direct correspondence to him, with having assisted me in my own survival. In the e-mail, he thanked me again and told me about his new book “Surviving Survival: The Art and Science of Resilience”. I  bought it immediately. There ought to be a copy of these two books -– dog-eared, highlighted -–with accompanying materials -– in every high school guidance counselor’s office, three or four copies in the executive suites of every insurance company, one each in every hospital medical library and medical staff break room, and certainly one in every mental health, social and other counselor’s offices. I’’ll be buying a copy of the new book he’s sending to press now for publication in July :


I’d already given copies of “Deep Survival” to both my adult children and to my wife. I had to search around for my own copy… I’d already “let it go”, having mined it, having added it to my Bibliography pdf of performance psychology titles. But I knew instantly there was still something to be learned from this fellow (I’ve already invited him to dinner if he ever comes my way).

And I suspected strongly and correctly that what he had to teach me was also applicable to those of us who still harbor the occasional moments of melancholy, depression, despair, etc., having suffered through the purposeful repeated traumatization of 9/11 and its related sequelae.  

“The collapse of a Tower in a dream can represent a severe psychological break.”


Frank Culbertson was aboard the International Space Station that morning and shot footage of the attack. The next day, he wrote a letter and said “Other than the emotional impact of our country being attacked and thousands of our citizens and maybe some friends being killed, the most overwhelming feeling being where I am is one of isolation.”   “But as the September 11 attacks turned into the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, a number of researchers at universities across the US have warned that media consumers who repeatedly expose themselves to such gruesome images could be putting themselves at risk of psychological damage.

Roxanne Cohen Silver, a professor of psychology and social behavior at UC Irvine, said that people who spent four hours or more soaking up 9/11 or Iraq War coverage were more likely to experience acute stress.

The results suggest that exposure to graphic media images may be an important mechanism through which the impact of collective trauma is dispersed widely,” Silver said, as quoted by the university’s website. “Our findings are both relevant and timely as vivid images reach larger audiences than ever before through YouTube, social media and smartphones.”


“Don’t feed your amygdala any scary raw data.” 

[Page 241, Surviving Survival]

Some of the people I know of or read on the Internet are more closely attuned or connected to the degradations of the neo-conservative-Zionist-US war of terror against the peoples in Iraq, Libya, Afghanistan, Syria, the Balkans, and perhaps elsewhere. Some are the victims of those warsszs, and some are the warriors. Surviving Survival has a great story of one warrior, the one who crossed a bridge. I’ll use the great big lump of 9/11 as a metaphor, since that event was used as the precursor and progenitor of so much about which we despair, including the degradation of the political processes and the Constitution. Equally, the civilian victims and the soldiers whose boots were on the ground have had to re-build their lives and their bodies, and in some cases their minds and their souls. And at least a few people have recognized the short-term and long-term genesis of the war of terror: the political and psychological leanings of Freud, Bernays and others that have emanated out of the Tavistock Institute. “Ah, conspiracy theories” comes the echo, but more than a few people have spent the time and done the research and the reading. Personally, I became a full-fledged information warrior sometime back in 2004, after the discussion board that grew out of John Kerry’s campaign morphed into a free, open and not-so-disconnected discussion board that had thousands of active members, dozens of sayanim and trolls, and a few moderators with subtly-hidden agendas. By the time the discussion board was closed because most people had left behind the nasty battles, I was ranked among the top 20 contributors and had become one of the leading people to openly question “the official story.” This naturally made me a target, and I re-traumatized myself again and again watching videos, reading articles, etc. And I did some “post-graduate research” in which I was — all at the same time — a goat, a hero, a victim. [Steven Pressfield speaks of the triad of interacting selves as

“victim, perpetrator, rescuer”: http://www.stevenpressfield.com/2014/04/the-victim-the-perpetrator-and-the-rescuer/;


I’ve been oriented to “rescue” for most of my adult life and was given the derogatory appellation of “Mr. Band-Aid” by someone I tried to help. I affixed a Band-Aid to my refrigerator as a daily reminder to understand and connect more deeply.]

As someone with a degree in media and political science and an orientation to news, I’ve long been at least tangentially involved and aware, but I’ll have to confess to having fallen back asleep after the Gulf of Tonkin affair. I had turned away from any further involvement with the military after one year in the all-volunteer Bay State Special Forces. I’d learned where to place the explosives underneath a bridge, how to kill someone with my bare hands, and how not to survive when thrown in the water with my hands tied behind my back and to my feet. [They had to jump in and fish me out.]  (I heard distant echoes of this when I was force-fed oxygen in an attempt to rehabilitate my lungs after having been on a heart-lung machine.) I got out of a weak college major in English and jumped with both feet into the world of news and communications studies. Career and marriage soon took over.  I took a sharp turn at the end of college and started specializing in saving lives. I did re-awaken when my kids were just getting into their teens; a fresh new investigation into the assassination of JFK took me deep into four or five books. But marriage, kids and the hunt for legal tender keep us all occupied enough to prevent us from getting beyond the smokescreen of diversion and propaganda until we finally set aside the time or are forced to look more deeply.  By 2004, I was chronically unemployed, pissed off enough about the Bush administration, and able to spend the time and some money pursuing some deeper interests. And my kids had finished college, moved out of the house, and my wife and I were beginning to become estranged.

It was, at first, a case of transition, of empty nest syndrome, of unemployment, of depression.  And I was isolated as an individual who spent time online reading non-mainstream sources. [Today, they call people like me mentally ill, or a terrorist. ]  On the famous scale that measures stressors due to life changes, I had a number of serious markers and operated regularly with a score at around 200 or more.  I lived with and thus was at times a caregiver for an individual who required a lot of energy; in Julia Cameron’s terminology, she was a “crazymaker”.  I was alternately unemployed or under-employed or ecstatically employed. My spouse’s nose and the grindstone were on intimate terms. My kids were out of college and on their own, and my involvement in their lives as a “sports parent” had chunked down several gears.  I got involved with umpiring fast-pitch softball in order to give something back to a game that had given much, and I took up aikido.  I was still learning and reading performance psychology, but frankly no one else was interested in what I had unearthed: the key to the mind and its effective application by its owner. I wasn’t really aware of the depression; I regarded it as minor and essentially a normal part of life’s ups and downs. I could and did “pick myself up” without much difficulty.  I never needed any pills; other than a rare exception dealing with marital matters, I’d never saw any psychologists or counselors. I’d been a graduate of three tiers of “Actualizations” with Stewart Emery. ▶ Human potential – Steward Emery – YouTube (22:00).

Mastering the Moment 

You can achieve a state of being by what you are doing. Yet getting to a place of being by way of something you are doing is a very long way around and, more importantly, it is rarely more than temporary. Most people do not put on a piece of soft music and remain calm the rest of their lives. Most people do not pray and continue to be at peace every succeeding moment. You can completely shift the axis of your experience by your decision to come from a state of being, rather than to try to get to one. It turns everything around. This decision of yours places the source of what you desire within you, rather than outside of you. That makes it accessible to you at all times and in all places. At present, most of your states of being are “reactions”. They do not have to be this. You can make them “creations”. When you move into any moment, you rarely do so with your ‘state of being’ determined ahead of time. You wait until you see what the moment contains and provides, and then you respond by being something. Perhaps you wind up being sad, or happy, or disappointed, or elated.  But… Suppose you decided beforehand how you were going to be when you moved into that moment, no matter how that moment showed up.  Do you think it would make any difference in the way that you experienced the moment itself? This is genuine power, the kind of power that changes lives…. This level of being can be reached in a single moment. It can also take a lifetime. Everything depends on you, on how deeply you desire it. You may achieve any inner state of being you wish by simply choosing it and calling it forth.  When you decide how you are going to show up before the moment itself shows up, you have begun to move toward mastery. You have learned to master the moment. When you decide ahead of time what your inner state of being is going to be, then no matter what any outer moment brings, the outer world loses its power over you. In fact, the wonderful irony of this is that what the outer world is doing will very often be affected by what you are being.

My wife was wrapped up heavily in her work, and she had the primary responsibility of dealing with her mother, with whom we lived. Her mother was chronically ill with cardiac and spinal problems, as well as having been plagued by continuing mental health issues. She’d had several hospitalizations, was diagnosed as a narcissistic schizophrenic (R. D. Laing’s “Sanity, Madness and the Family” just arrived several days ago).  She’d had a couple of nervous breakdowns over the years; my wife had began “nursing” her through her migraines when she was a 12-year old girl. The child grew up to become a twice-specialty-certified nurse with a stellar career; ‘mother’  had had three ECT treatments, multiple heart procedures and back surgeries. During one critical period, she was hospitalized, often with 911 emergency response to our living room, forty times in five years. And her presence and style was abusive. This I recognized because I grew up in a dysfunctional household with two abusive parents (one through absenteeism and the other physically and psychologically). My ears can still remember their being grasped and twisted; forced labor in a rural environment was a norm; and there’s more. Hidden rage is an ugly thing. So in 2001, in a household centered on a very ill woman who choked off dialogue with a glance, my own stress meter was bouncing off the far-right red zone.  I was professionally oriented towards emergency management and was able to follow the “blinking red” run-up to that “severe clear” day in September quite closely, and I was screaming and teeming enough that I sent an e-mail of warning and hope to my daughter, then in grad school in Queens, the night before. It was her e-mail the next morning that alerted me to events in Manhattan. I’d been involved in early efforts in the development of online discussion and dialogue. I dabbled in a few progenitors of the online learning movement. I volunteered for a task force at learningtimes.net where I met the fellow who developed the interactive “Game of Games” and became one of his beta testers. By 2004 I was in full florid online discussion with a bunch of people who were actively denying that there was anything amiss. I’d devised a “game engine” for a desktop simulation system that forced discovery through dialogue. And slowly and subtly I started to fall into a trap. It was a cosmic turbulence, a wilderness of rapid change. During this same period of time, I’d become interested and involved with the binaural beats audio meditation system known as Holosync, developed by the Centrepointe Institute and described in great detail, with scientific explanation and the supporting research, in the book Thresholds of the Mind. [A Google search will turn up lots of information, including reviews, scribd and pdf files, and more.] Holosync was, at first, simply an escape, a proven way to relax. As I progressed more deeply into the program, especially when I got to “The Dive” and “Immersion”, I could feel the waves of stress flowing off my body. I felt more rested and my experience was wholly consistent with expected results. And I began to notice changes I couldn’t explain, but only experience and explore. It played an integral role in my experience, in my health. I began to have increasingly one-on-one and private discussions with one of the women in this discussion group of 2,000. She had an interest in the noetic sciences, and I had a flourishing interest in sports and performance psychology. I wanted to find a way to make that interest come to life in a job of some sort; my wife suggested I find a psychologist or psychiatrist under whose umbrella I could continue to learn and work. The online dialogue continued to the point where we decided to actually talk on the phone. My wife would come home from work and a long commute and, very tired, do psychological battle at the dinner table with her mother (who was quite adept at dividing the two of us– see Pressfield above), and I couldn’t bear to see what she was doing to her daughter. [It was a living seminar in the triangular nature of family dynamics.] But her daughter refused to counter the abuse, and took her bottle of fortified wine upstairs to the bedroom, closed the door, and fell asleep in front of repeated episodes of “Law and Order”.  I did the dinner dishes and went down cellar into my office to my laptop and online connection where, soon enough, I had installed Skype. I was three floors away from the other two who were asleep. Did I fall into a honey trap?  It may have been one, but only in the sense that Little League is like AA ball.  At one point, I likened it to the experience when two comets cross paths, coming in to orbit from another distant place, a gravitational pull that allowed each to affect the other, and then to shoot back off into space, “spinning unheard in the dark of the sky”. I struck up the conversation. The lady “down South” was troubled, and lacking in confidence. She informed me she had to open up her own practice in a couple of weeks. “Practice?” said the man who had a library of understanding about sports practice, motivation, belief, and performance psychology. “What kind of practice?” “I finish my residency program in two weeks and will be going into practice.” “Residency program?” “Yes.” “You’re a doctor?” “Yes.”  (Light bulb goes on. No wonder she’s so intelligent. I need intelligent people in my life around me.) “What kind of doctor?” “A psychiatrist.” “Oh….   Well, I might have something that could be of help to you. You’ve been preparing to go into practice now for years.” ‘   What can you offer?’ was the unspoken response. So I told her about all the reading I’d done, my e-book called Summon The Magic, and the fact that my two children had been practicing too…where the material had come from, their accomplishments with it, and the fact that the material had been made available to top-flight elite athletes with similar effect.  (I once did a successful intervention with a pitcher who owned a gold medal from the Olympics and the NCAA strike-out record.)  (I posted “If You Want to Achieve Excellence” on the chain-link fence next to the dugout at UHartford and the ‘adept’ went three-for-three with three home runs, one to each field.) Same thing… Walk up to the plate (the door of her practice) and hit a home run. So she asked for more, and I offered up the table of contents, and she said “Send me the 5th, 9th, 12th and 14th chapters.” “Well,” I proffered, “usually people read them in order, but if you’ve gotten yourself through medical school and a psychiatric residency, you can read them in any order you want.” She read them by the side of the pool at the country club. And we talked about the issues and problems. We talked about her five-year old daughter, the product of a failed relationship with a Turkish diplomat assigned at the time to a well-known Mediterranean country and with whom she visited Istanbul. She refused his offer of marriage and was frightened for her child and herself in the middle of a well-armed cadre of protective guards. She returned home to finish medical school and he married a pediatrician he’d met when he was assigned to Moldova. [Check the map and the current news.] And, at the end of the summer, Katrina happened, and we talked some more, and I talked her out of rushing off willy-nilly to New Orleans to offer her services by explaining the term dysfunctional mass convergence, and she motivated me to spell out and publish my understanding of the dynamics of emergency response. I wrote a draft (“This is crap”, she said),  and then took three months to research and write a 57-page paper. “How will people learn about and read this?”, she prompted me to get it published…  internationally [http://www.iaem.com/documents/SimsandVCOPs1.pdf ]. And she’d started her practice. As we talked, it became obvious that she had some kind of sleep disorder, and it occurred to me that she was exhibiting some signs of dissociative personality disorder. I’d done some reading about MK-Ultra and the long-term effects of sexual abuse and, at one point in a conversation during which we had become particularly close, I asked her if she’d been sexually abused. “How did you know? I never told you that.” Well, she owned up to the fact that her father, a physician himself who was a sub-contractor for the CIA as a reserve officer in the USAF, did in fact sexually abuse her when she was 9, and it continued until she was 15. Or so she said… But she did have the symptoms. Or was she play-acting? Well, she acted suicidal on more than one occasion, and asked me to continue to talk to her through the wee hours of the night until either she or her daughter fell asleep. She fed the child Benadryl and herself Ambien, and waited for what my broadcasting professor called my “bedroom voice” to put her to sleep. And, to make a long story shorter, I fell in love with her. She kept coming around singing me up. And I became addicted. On one occasion, we agreed to meet in person  and when she sent me her picture, I fell off the chair.  She was stunningly beautiful.  And smart. And, I thought, needed someone.  And I felt unneeded. And she called or e-mailed every day, more often than not two or three times a day. Every night’s telephone conversation was something we both looked forward to. I had, it seemed, something she needed or wanted. Months went by. And then she “diagnosed” my medical problem. Well, “diagnosis” is perhaps too strong a word, but unquestionably her trained ear heard something in my voice and she insisted, forcefully, that I seek medical attention ASAP. She wanted me to hang up the phone and go wake up my wife and tell her to call the ambulance. “No”, I said, “that’s not going to happen.” I wasn’t going to march upstairs and wake up my wife and tell her the woman I’d irrationally fallen in love said I was having a stroke. But I did promise her I’d make an appointment with a doctor. Three days later, the 6’4” Czechoslovakian cardiologist leaned back from having auscultated my chest and asked “Has anyone ever told you you have a heart murmur?” No one had, and no one had previously told me I needed to have an echocardiogram and a catheterization and a stress test. But I did.   Findings: Moderate-to-severe aortic stenosis due to a damaged aortic valve. Now, I had been in touch with my brother… my long-lost brother … [that’s a whole ‘nuther story]… and he called out of concern and asked my wife, whom I had not told about the medical tests, how I’d made out at the hospital.


  Music video: Chris Botti, Someone To Watch Over Me

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6eC_Qm78Gkg (9:30)



And so the situation unraveled and, as had been hastily planned after the psychiatrist had been informed of the cardiologist’s findings, the old ’99 black Pontiac Trans-Am was packed with clothing, books and music… a great car on the open road across the top of Western Maryland and down the backside of the Appalachian ridge.

Music video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z0WDS-EQoIM (4:36)

The cardiologist had said “No, I won’t refer you to a surgeon to have the valve replaced because your heart isn’t strong enough to undergo the surgery”, and I was now under the care of a psychiatrist who lived 800 miles away. There may be a book written about the 15-month-long experience. I’ve at least written a prose poem [Eros and Psyche] in which each word and each phrase is a cryptogram of memory. I met the psychiatrist’s mother (once), who threw me out of her house before I was two steps into her kitchen. [Her daughter then ‘keyed’ her car when we left.] Even over the phone, I’d watched a horrible relationship between her and her daughter that also affected a five-year-old grand-daughter. I thought I could offer some sanctuary. [I had jumped from the frying pan into the fire. Laurence Gonzalez can explain why I was not aware of the fact that I was doing so.] I sat in the passenger seat with the child in the back seat as the shrink followed her mother bumper-to-bumper in their matching Toyota Camrys over three laps of a winding circuit across the urban center and the suburban hills while they talked on the cell phone, child screaming in the back seat. I accompanied doctor and daughter to the movies one night in a moment that will forever live in my memory; doctor sat entranced through great parts of Disney’s “Sleeping Beauty”. I’d already heard about the extreme fiscal situation the doctor was in, and her binge online shopping.  Previously, she’d told me on the phone that when she got home from rounds there was nothing to eat in the house; she said she couldn’t afford to use her credit card and order up a pizza delivery. When I worked in her office, I watched the doctor’s accountant manage her practice finances and, perhaps, her mind. [He was a Disciple of Christ too.] I watched her male medical partner (formerly with the Secret Service) have (and end) a relationship with his male office clerk, the same fellow who circulated nude pictures of patients among other patients in the waiting room of the medical practice, the same fellow whose job I took for eight weeks when I convinced my friend the lady psychiatrist to insist that he be fired immediately. (Among other things, I did the patient intake, took the vital signs, kept the charts in order, and helped set up the Suboxone program.) The lady psychiatrist passed her boards with flying colors on the first try without any help from me and was a specialist in psychopharmacology. She had taken me in the same way she took in the puppy dog one of her patients had left in her office. A pet store found a new home for the dog. I eventually found a new home in a rehab hospital.

Given to me by the psychiatrist from “down South”: My Voice Will Go With You: The Teaching Tales of Milton G. Erickson (edited and with commentary bny Sidney Rosen), W.W. Norton & Co., 1982. Patterns of the Hypnotic Techniques of Milton Erickson, M.D. (Volume One), Richard Bandler and John Grinder, Grinder & Associates 1975. Cognitive-Behavioral Treatment of Borderline Personality Disorder, Marsha M. Linehan, Guilford Press 1993. Skills Training Manual for Treating Borderline Personality Disorder, Marsha Linehan, Guilford Press 1993. Conversational Hypnosis: A Manual of Indirect Suggestion (Examples, Induction Scripts, Pre-Session Talks), Carol Sommer, 1992. The Art of Political Warfare, John J. Pitney Jr., University of Oklahoma Press, 2000. Given to me to read but retained in her possession:

An Unquiet Mind: A Memoir of Moods and Madness

by Kay Redfield Jamison

Touched With Fire: Manic-Depressive Illness and the Artistic Temperament

by Kay Redfield Jamison

 Eight weeks into the period in which  I had ‘gone south’, she invited me — knowing it was expressly against the wishes of her mother — to visit her at her own little bungalow on the family compound. Everything there is all up and down,; literally your neighbor can be 500 feet above you or below you. (Good exercise to make my heart stronger, at least.) I lived in a condo that was about 500 feet higher than and about a three quarters-of-a-mile away from her, high up in the clouds and fog over the river.  Mother was all ready to have me arrested for trespassing the moment I arrived.  I had previously stifled her assumptions about my being a pedophile by offering to present myself to the local WV State police barracks and have them deliver their full report on my legal and moral transgressions directly to her.  I had already explained to the daughter that, as a tenant, she had a right to invite whomever she pleased.) So the tableau was set. Previously, on Thanksgiving, I’d made myself familiar with the area by strolling around the rim of the “holler” in which this family resided.  It was a special section of the land they had owned on the maternal side of things for generations as a giant pig farm, but they leased the land to a series of shopping centers built around a new four-lane road for 10% of the proceeds (or so I was told). During that walk, I was surprised to see a man perched with a high-powered hunting rifle high up in a pine tree that towered over the holler from the edge of its rim in the back of a church parking lot. Deer abounded in the neighborhood and a 10-point buck had once sauntered onto the deck around my condo as I sat in the kitchen with my coffee. Perhaps that image of the man with a .30-06 flashed through my subconsciousness as I walked out the door and started down the hill. Perhaps I went into florid pleural edema as a physical reaction to that part of my Stream, as Gonzalez calls it. Perhaps I had the subconscious sense I was being set up. [See Candace Pert on the molecules of emotion.: Pert Molecules.]

Now it’s a moot point; I turned around and struggled against the advancing tide of water in my lungs to get back to my condo. The Stream had turned into a flood. I walked in and hunched over the kitchen sink where I spit up some pink blood, a sign I immediately recognized and interpreted correctly; I’m a former EMT. And then, as I noted to Gonzalez years later, I grabbed my car keys, hung up the phone without comment when the doctor’s mother called to ask where I was, as the cops were on the way, and — disdaining 9/11 — I got in my car and drove down the hill to the nearest emergency room where the shrink was on staff.   I arrived in time to be able to throw my car keys to an EMT in the parking lot, asking him to ask hospital security to secure the car, and I went into the emergency room and puked all over the floor, and then blacked out. When I awoke moments later, I called the lady psychiatrist, and told her I now had some “skin in the game”.

[See a slice of the prose poem I wrote as an outline for the book here: http://boydownthelane.com/2013/11/27/reverse-911-a-remembrance-of-thanks/ ]

The emergency room staff got me stabilized, took the medical history, and put me in the ICU for the weekend. The cardiologist got the complete history and gave me a chemical stress test on Monday morning; as he advanced the plunger of the needle, I began to black out and told him to stop, and fell on the floor in cardiac arrest.

He revived me, rushed me back to the ICU, asked me if I had “seen the light” of an NDE [I hadn’t], and made arrangements for emergency open heart surgery and valve replacement downtown in the morning. I called my wife and son, and they made  arrangements to fly in. [My wife hates flying; have you ever hopped that old Saab bucket of bolts out of Detroit and landed on top of a mountain?] The next morning, after being asked if I were afraid (I wasn’t), I was wheeled through the doors of the OR and given a Versed and propafol IV cocktail that knocked me out in two seconds and made me unaware of having my sternum split, my heart stopped, an artery patched after they put in a new bovine valve — and then, hours later, being mooved back to the special ICU in the special heart surgery unit. My family arrived while I was in surgery.

There was one small problem… They left a “bleeder”.

I’m unconscious, my wife is in the waiting room with the heart surgeon and my friend the psychiatrist (whom she’d never met face-to-face or even talked to) to whom I had signed away power of attorney.

I’m glad I’d been unconscious.

I was unconsciously having an “Isn’t It Ironic?” moment, as I was fully aware of the fellow at the University of Virginia Medical School who was a performance psychologist (Doug Newburg) working with cardio-thoracic surgical teams to promote excellence under pressure.

Gonzales talks about surrender. I gave it over to people who cared about me, an ICU nurse named Pascha, and God. [Everyone of them came through for me.]

Four units of transfused blood later, someone finally figured out what the problem was and they wheeled me back to the OR, where the surgical team repaired the bleeding artery, but some arterial plaque “jumped” free and floated off to my brain, giving me a multiplex hemiplegic stroke that left my left leg totally immobilized, my left arm mostly immobilized, and my heart wafting in and out of atrial fibrillation. [No physicians have been sued in the telling of this story.  I knew about the risk going in and had no choice but to go in, without fear.]

Whenever it was that I finally awoke, days later, I was told I had a stroke. Totally numbed out by the depth of the experience, having hallucinated several times, still under the influence of whatever meds they were pushing along with the feeding tube in my right arm, I was fixed to the mattress. I needed help for the slightest of movements and mostly wafted in and out of various mental states of quasi-psycho-spiritual hypnogogic and hypnagoggic and hallucinatory restorative grace.

Well, the story trends with me getting superior cardiological care, 8 weeks of in-patient rehabilitation, moving my residence again [nine times in eleven months], having the lady doctor support me financially throughout the entire process, having her actively working to nurse me back on my feet (at one point  when I had an infection at the site of my feeding IV, she was on her hands and knees scrubbing the floor with disinfectant). She visited regularly, marshaled support and human resources, and provided a good deal of spirit, the sunshine of her presence,  and oversight of the medical care.

On a snowy day, she borrowed an old battered pick-up truck and personally hauled what little belongings and furniture I had out of the four-story condo atop the hill to the new place, stopping by the hospital long enough to throw me into the front right seat. She negotiated with the building supervisor and we got me installed into a cold apartment in mid-February.  The next morning, I grabbed a cab and went back and retrieved my car from the deep parking zone by the hospital where my son had left it when he grabbed his launch out of Yeager. It was an adventure to drive after I’d been immobilized in a bed for ten weeks, a lesson in how automaticity works and doesn’t work. I took it nice and s-l-o-w. The building super got the heat fixed and the lady shrink would come by to check on me and spend some time sharing the tales of her day, and I’d read sections of a book out loud I’d found on medical diagnosis and problem-solving (it was like playing “House”).   I don’t think I’ll ever forget the day she talked about tradecraft as she got ready to do “rounds”.

She played a supportive and perhaps major role (but I suspect not the final critical one, that having perhaps been given over to political influence called in by the psychiatrist’s mother) in getting my Social Security Disability application approved five months later.  I’d moved into an extended outpatient recovery with leg brace, walker and wheelchair in a hastily-rented small apartment in a building with an elevator, and gotten a pacemaker put in to keep my heart on the straight-and-narrow.

I never did find the key to the doorway she’d built and locked in front of her own heart/mind/spirit unit, though she clearly was having more and more problems. At one point, I remember asking that building super if he knew of a book that would help me understand women, and he replied “Ain’t been written yet.” She had what I can only, in my limited knowledge, call a psychotic break due to her mother’s harping or perhaps induced in other ways by others, and the several visits during which she somewhat vividly worked on getting me to end any thoughts of a continued relationship or an extended stay in her neighborhood by relapsing into a vicious alcoholism, asking me if I didn’t want to beat her up, and offering to join hands and fly off the 9th floor balcony (both of us kept our heads and our feet on the ground, and I kept my fists open and soft). I urged her to get formal help; how do you ask a psychiatrist who is an expert in psychopharmacology that she needs to see a psychiatrist? She told me she hoped to go to a hospital near Blacksburg, VA and get some ECT treatments. She did end up working with a psychiatrist and a psychologist on a personal basis. I am told she’s married, went through some serious abdominal surgery herself, and is back at work.

▶ Mark Knopfler & Emmylou Harris – If this is goodbye [Bingolotto -06] – YouTube

 She did make a trip to see a Russian psychiatrist in Niagara Falls, Ontario, and I held my breath for about ten days. She returned and took a weekend to travel out to Nag’s Head [have you read JFK and the Unspeakable?] and sit on the dunes; she came back with a bumper sticker that said “Life is good”, but her resolve to be rid of me was now more stabilized and certain.

I’d seen both poles of her disorder; when she was at the right end of the dipole, she was one of the more powerful, super-intelligent and focused people I’d ever met. When she was at the wrong end, she was a mess. But it was clear that there was little I could do because I wasn’t going to be given the chance, the right, the role, to be of any assistance.

Eros and Psyche

Music video:

Notting Hillbillies Feel Like Going Home – YouTube 

 I negotiated, with the help of my son, a return back to Massachusetts and entrance into a successful re-establishment of a relationship with my wife.  I drove back on Thanksgiving, arriving on a wing and a prayer at the front end of a very tired caravan of driver/Pontiac/U-Haul negotiating the snowstorm, and the curves and hills of about 800 miles of Interstate highway, in time to surprise wife and daughter and to get a piece of pie. [Delicious baked humble pie.]

Relationships were tentative at first, for obvious reasons; I made apologies, and was forgiven.  I lived in a spartan, drafty four-room flat in between the rail line and the airport in a decaying industrial town near my daughter so I could perhaps be of some value to some one. Many months later, I walked my daughter down the aisle and handed her off to an environmental engineer who’s a D-I-Y kind of fellow; they have two delightful kids. My son gave me another grandkid in between those two, and the pictures of the three populate the wall space at home. My son and my daughter were the witnesses in the private ceremony in which my wife and I exchanged new vows we’d written in the middle of a garden labyrinth we found. I had been given a Clew.   Music video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9j-VHVIQZSg (2:57)

  I registered with all the right doctors and eventually got my old pacemaker installed correctly [yes, that same surgeon screwed that up too] and I’m on a small list of chronic meds with attendant side-effects. I got myself onto a regular system of treadmills and exercise bikes [http://www2.keiser.com/en/ ] and a Keiser weight system and exacerbated an old lacrosse injury to my hips and spine, went to the chiropractor for a year, had to stop the exercise regime, fired her, put on a lot of weight, but have been managing otherwise pretty well despite chronic leg numbness, an ever-present threat of another stroke, and the need to manage myself and ten medications along the thin ledge of homeostasis. Things are much much better now that wife has seen some things differently, as have I, and due in great part to the fact that her mother has been placed permanently in a nursing home, no longer able to care for herself in any meaningful way. And my wife recently retired so we have the place to ourselves (except when the grandkids visit). I did continue with my regime of Holosync-driven binaural beat meditation and then discovered, in the appendix of Izthak Bentov’s Stalking the Wild Pendulum, his theory that kundalini meditation dumped stress out through the aortic valve. When I asked my electrophysiologist about this, he answered “What do you care? You survived, didn’t you?” He tells me I may no longer go to the gym; I am limited to walking. We recently added the diagnosis of paroxysmal atrial flutter. And the aging progress continues….

“This is a very unusual area of medicine,” said Ann Webster, Ph.D., director of the Program for Successful Aging at Massachusetts General Hospital’s Benson-Henry Institute for Mind-Body Medicine. “These are things people can do for themselves.” [ http://annwebsterphd.com/home.html ]

It was at the Benson-Henry Institute that the term “relaxation response” was first coined. It’s an actual physiologic state of deep rest that’s the opposite of the body’s ‘fight or flight’ response.

“This is a time when you restore energy to every cell in your body, and this is also a time when healing can take place,” said Webster.

Watch Report

It may sound far-fetched, but they say it’s grounded in real, cutting-edge science and proven to help people avoid high blood pressure,  pain syndromes and even rheumatoid arthritis.

“Take in a deep breath. Hold it … a few seconds, and then let it go,” said Webster. “By the end of the third breath, they’ve already quieted down.”

To turn on the relaxation response, Webster suggests meditation coupled with deep breathing every day for at least 20 minutes, along with:

  • Staying fit and eating right
  • Keeping a gratitude journal
  • Social support
  • Staying engaged in life even after retirement
  • Getting quality sleep

According to Webster, the number No. 1 barrier to successful aging is obesity.





  My story isn’t as exciting or as vibrant a recovery as that of people who have battled mountain lions, sharks, bears, improvised explosive devices or breast cancer.  But my wife went through chemotherapy, radiation and an elective bilateral radical mastectomy when she developed breast cancer for the second time one year after I returned.  I was there to play a supporting role.

My own recovery from survival has been helped by Gonzalez’ second book, if only by recognition of the process. It was there, in his discussion about The Stream, through which I realized the true reason I was able to save my own life as I approached the threats in the holler. That realization precipitated the heart problems and the heart attack in an already-weakened heart and lead to the surgery in which I also almost lost my life twice, and then I had to look forward to the recovery of the rehabilitation and the long trail afterwords, which continues today, as I battle small and minor residua and wonder what to do with my survival. I have annoying loss of strength and dexterity in my left hand, gait problems exacerbated by an old minor hip-back injury in college, and a generalized clumsiness that belies a different self, but these pale and are inconsequential when compared to the problems of others with brain injury, overwhelming disfigurement on the surface and the interior, or other sets of circumstances that are far worse.

I consider myself immensely lucky, and I am glad that I went through the trouble.

One of the promises I made myself as I stared at the ceiling hour after hour and listened to the assembled music CD’s and summoned up bits of energy with which to try to tackle the strenuous physical and occupational therapy sessions thrown at me two and three times a day — the hardest work I’ve ever had to do, and I loved every minute of it, and I loved the professionals who cared for me, including the psychiatrist — was to survive long enough to be able to get back to the computer and online in order to post and share the assembled tome of excerpts from my performance psychology research. I had managed to save most of it across those many residential transitions despite several technological breakdowns and losses of computer capability but finally I started up a blog at Google in which the bulk of it was laid down for others to read. No one seemed much interested, to be frank, a disappointing reality due in great part to how I presented it, perhaps, but the events of the day and my returning anger about what was happening in the world — and the failure of many people (including my own family) to understand them, their causes, their consequences, and the meaning of all of that to their lives — gradually brought me back to an old orientation to the news and a blogging focus that was more dissident.

Most Americans seem unaware and unaffected by what is happening in America and the world, while the rest of the world waits for us to begin our recovery.

But I did save most of those performance psychology excerpts.

As I noted at the top, there are some who are in despair, or who find their way back to that state of despondency or depression or anomie, and it is them to whom Gonzalez’ book “Surviving Survival” should speak.

Music video: Let Down (Christopher O’Reilly)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HZtLXmVstjY (5:33)


See Excerpts from “Deep Survival” and “Surviving Survival” here:

http://www.thesullenbell.com/2014/05/01/excerpts-deep-survival/ http://www.thesullenbell.com/2014/05/01/excerpts-surviving-survival/

The 10 Big Ideas 

from the book “Deep Survival”


[This is a podcast interview with the author and is an outstanding (and portable) introduction to him, his books and how they apply to you. 

http://www.aaronmchugh.com/2013/10/30/18-survival-resilience-laurence-gonzales-podcast/ ]

Here, if it is more suitable to you, is a PowerPoint presentation done for a conference of social workers.

Surviving Survival: The Art and Science of Resilience (1


Surviving Survival: the Art and Science of Resilience by Laurence Gonzales; Personal characteristics; Successful vs. ineffective strategies for surviving the …


This is the hour-long keynote address by Laurence Gonzalez at the Wilderness Risk Management Conference (WRMC) in 2013. 


Are we at risk and existing in a wilderness?

Episode 39 – Laurence Gonzales