God Series - Automatic Typing No2

Communication 'channeled' from a Higher Plane

Chapter Two

 

I  sit at my computer keyboard and my hands are typing.   I did not say that ‘Arthur Thomas Ware, the author of this book, is typing,’ for this message is coming through my physical body but is not of it.   Thirty-two years have elapsed since I first encountered this phenomenon and a lot has happened since then.   Automatic Writing had gone from a few senseless scribbles on a scrap of paper to some of the most profound revelations I have ever encountered.

 

            Here is what came through, one day in March 1997.

 

            “My advice to you, Tom Ware, is to slow down and listen to what we tell you and you will not go far wrong.  After all, we are already ‘on the other side’ so we know from first hand experience what it is like to be here.

 

            “When a person dies he or she does not come immediately to the dimension from which we are talking to you now.  There is a state of limbo, and it can be quite disconcerting to those who do not know what is happening to them.  When a person is struck dead suddenly, be it by a heart attack or an attack by villains, or an explosion, or whatever, it is quite normal for them to be knocked clear out of their physical bodies.  They are sometimes dead, which means that they cannot return to their bodies because their bodies are no longer habitable.  In this case- and you must remember that this happens quickly and unexpectedly-  then there is no one from our dimension here ready to greet them and to bring them across.  In this case they are left on their own and do not know what to do.  Usually, they do not even realise that they are dead, so they cling to what they were before they died.  They often realise they have two bodies; the one they are currently in -you would call that the Astral-  and the one that they have left behind, the Physical.  The Physical is uninhabitable.   That is, it can no longer sustain their life form.    There is no link between the Astral and Physical which is sustainable.  It has to do with hormones and that sort of thing.  I am not a medical man so I cannot tell you exactly how it works.  But to continue.

 

            “We over here are perpetually concerned with searching out and trying to locate the myriads of lost souls  -we say they are lost not in the moral sense but in the real sense of being lost spatially-  they are lost between two worlds, so to speak.  But people like yourself can contact these.  Or rather, they contact you.  They realise that you are a sensitive and, if they can, they wish to ask you questions as to what you are and why you are different.   But mostly they are concerned with themselves -as we all are- because they want relief.

 

            “People in limbo are people in trouble.  These are your ‘ghosts.’  They are not the apparitions people see such as your ‘Black lady.’   These are something else again.  I guess if I were a Carl Jung I would call them an ‘Archetype Ghost.’  They are a phenomenon made by the countless thinking of many people over a long time.  The ‘Lady in Black’ stems from Victorian times when it was believed by many that a woman dressed in Victorian costume would indicate to the living that somebody’s dying was imminent.   But to continue.

 

            “These persons in limbo are, in the first instance, confused.  You were right to say that there was confusion with the dead at the Granville Train Disaster.  There is always confusion at any disaster where people are killed.  In the case of a major disaster the word is fairly quickly spread, and because we all can communicate here by a sort of mental telepathy, it does not take long for a lot of souls on this side to rally and to carry out a sort of ‘collection service.’  But in the case where only one or two die, such as a traffic or mountaineering accident, and nobody is around to sort of ‘raise the alarm’ emotionally, then it is quite common for these souls who have quickly passed over to be overlooked.   It could be many months, even years before they are found.   Of course, once they are found it is explained to them what has happened and they are brought ‘across the threshold’ -I can put it no other way because I do not fully understand how it works-  into our dimension.

 

            “Not everyone goes to the same ‘level’ or dimension.   There is a lot of truth in the belief that there are several dimensions in the Afterlife.  There are various layers of Heaven.  And there is a Hell of sorts.  It is where those people go who have lead very wicked lives and who are not really fit to associate with most normal to average people.   Most people are good, Tom.  But a few are bad.  And some fewer are very bad.   These last go to Hell and stay there for a long time before they are allowed to be reborn back into the world -your world-  for another chance.   It is much as (it is) stated in the Bhagavad Gita.  If they persist in being perpetually wicked (when) they are born into your world and when they are finally given up by God, or the All Mighty, they go into oblivion.  What dies is their ego.  The spark which has been the Spirit of God has gone out in that final life and the ego-  which is just a mass of thought patterns, breaks down and goes back to a sort of neutrality.

 

            “That’s the theory of it at least.  I have never known it to happen.  But I am not going to dispute it just because of that.   There are a lot more wise and advanced people around than myself.   It is the job of many of these wise people to teach at advanced levels.   If they interpret the Bhagavad Gita to mean that souls can become so bad that they lose the Spark of God and then fade back into nothingness, then it is not for someone like me to dispute that.

 

            “But to get back to those in limbo.  Your niece, Karen, was in limbo for a few hours after the Granville train crash.  She and many others were suddenly dead and did not know it.    She was able to visit her mother just by thinking about her.   It wasn’t’t a matter of her ghost trying to catch another train, then a bus, then walking home.  No.  All she needed to do was to think of her mother and she was there.  That is what we do here.   We only have to think about a person or a situation and we are in it.  You think it, and you are there ‘in your mind’ or imagination.

 

            “We are our minds to a great extent.  We have bodies but these are only for our own personal convenience.   We don’t need them.  We can be bodiless whenever we have a mind to.  Or to put is more accurately.  We have no bodies unless we choose to have them, so that we can be what we are used to being.    We have the option to pick ourselves at our best and this is what we invariably do.   We do not need to say, I want a body.   It is done at a sort of subconscious level.   We just are.

 

            “But I can see that you are becoming concerned now that this communication has been going on for so long.   It has been a good session and you have been very attentive and not particularly disruptive.

 

            “I must thank your guide, U.R., for letting me talk with you like this for so long.  I hope you have gained something out of this, Tom.  It was a pleasure to talk to you like this.   We will meet again, I hope.   Thank you and goodbye.”

 

           

            As I said at the outset, this was recorded through my hands in March 1997.   Let us now turn the clock back to when it all began.

 

...............

 

It is a warm night in late November 1968, and I am sitting in my living-room close to a small glass-topped table.   On the table is a tiny upturned plastic tumbler.  Resting lightly on that tumbler -ever so lightly, no pressure, no weight, making barely a contact- is the little finger of my right hand.   The room is very dark.   The street lights across the road throw just enough of their beams through the window for me to see.   The clock ticks noisily on the mantelpiece.   The traffic noise has died away.  My wife and three children are asleep in bed.    It is still, quiet.  And I am about to undertake my first practical experiment in contacting the “Spirits.”

 

            Not quite sure how to go about this, I sit as relaxed as I can, yet with mind fully alert, and by “way of thought” invite these dubious unknowns to come through to me.   I am feeling both foolish and sceptical.  But I am determined to give it a go.

“If you are going to contact me, do it now,” I think to myself.  

 

            Nothing happens.   The tumbler remains still.   Outside my window a fluorescent lamp blinks on, off, on, off; an intermittent electrical contact.   I repeat my invitation.  “I am serious.  Go ahead.”  

 

            Still nothing happens...and yet...

 

            I determine to resign myself; to do absolutely nothing but observe.   I remain alert but passive.  “Will it really work?”  I wonder.   I sit more upright in my chair. “Or am I just being ridiculous?”   And at that moment I feel, or think I feel, a slight dizziness.   It was so slight that I suspect that I might be imagining it.   Quite suddenly I am feeling a sort of heightened awareness.   And then, as if pushed by a source outside of myself, the upturned tumbler begins to move.   Slowly, ever so slowly, it moves over the smooth surface of the table.

 

            It is uncanny.  “Am I pushing this?” comes the thought to my mind.   “Is this wishful thinking triggering some sort of unconscious response?”   Maybe.   An excitement rises in me, but it is an excitement I can control.   My arm, which now feels somewhat tense and strange to me, especially along the extensor muscles of my forearm, moves ever so slightly.   The little finger does not push-  at least, does not seem to push- yet the tumbler begins to scrape eerily as it moves in a line across the table.

 

            Once again thoughts of doubt.  “Is that an unknown entity, or is that me unconsciously pushing the glass?”   There is, of course, no reply.   The tiny clear-plastic tumbler continues to move.   It weaves slightly.   It turns round.  Moves back.   It is as if the unknown power is experimenting, feeling, working everything out.

 

            Another thought comes to me.   “Why not place a alphabet and some numerals under the glass top of the table.   In that way if there is anything there that can communicate, then I can use the letters and figures for it-  whatever may be- to form words.”   I decide not to do that tonight.   It is late.  Well after midnight.    I decide that I will give the power, the entity, or whatever it is, a chance to prove whether or not it really does exist.   I think-  and all these communications for my part are done by thought- “If there is anyone or anything there, then move the glass in a clockwise direction, in a circle.”

 

            Instantly the glass stops.    It doesn’t move for so long that I think I have lost contact.   “Has it gone?    Did it ever exist in the first place?”    But no.   The arm moves again.   It is as if another person, unknown to me, were working my neuro-muscular centres.   I’ve had the same sort of feeling when undertaking self-hypnosis.   Was this a sort of self-hypnosis?    Was it all being caused by a part of myself?  

 

            The arm, my arm, which seems as if it belongs to me no longer, holds a finger

which touches with but the faintest of pressures upon the glass.   It isn’t a strong enough pressure to actually move it.   No, it is not being pushed.  By me, anyway.   Rather it is as if the entity or whatever is drawing some sort of power from my physical body.

 

            The slight giddiness comes over me again.   This time I know I am not imagining it.   My body sways ever so slightly from side to side.   The glass makes a soft squealing noise as it begins to move, tracing an unmarked circle on the table.   It goes around clockwise, around, and around, and around.

 

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