Staying Open to the Flipside With Sherman Alexie

It sounds so simple.

Just stay open.

Just let go.

Don't hang onto the past.  Don't anticipate the future.  Just experience now.

A sunset is the last chorus before the new symphony begins.

These concepts are usually associated with eastern philosophy - but they are often repeated in between life sessions, by people who've had a near death experience, or by people who are able to meditate whenever they want.

I've been going down another path entirely.

My father designed this addition to this home.
Believe it or not, looking at it I can "feel his presence" in the design.
Am I seeing a ghost? Or the energy of my father's creative mind?

I've realized that people are much more connected to the Flipside than they think they are.

We hear it often when people talk about a loved one who's passed away.  I'll ask, so have you had any kind of visitation from your loved one?  And they think I'm asking if they've "seen" their loved one appear before them.

That's really rare.  

It happens.  I have a close friend whose mom saw her husband show up in his PJ's one night - she said he just "walked in like he used to" then walked to his familiar side of the bed, then climbed in.  He looked at her and said "I just wanted you to know I'm okay." 

My aunt told me that the night her husband passed away, he appeared to her at the end of the bed and said "I'm okay. I love you" and then disappeared as the phone rang to tell her that he had passed.  I told this story to her daughter and she said "Bullshit." (not something she wanted to hear or comprehend.  That's okay too.)

Recently author Sherman Alexie had to cancel his book tour because his mother was showing up in his dreams and bothering him.  Showing up in a variety of ways that disturbed him.

Sherman Alexie, author and friend of KUOW, posted this letter to his Facebook page on Thursday.

"If you're reading this open letter then you're probably aware that I recently published a memoir, “You Don't Have to Say You Love Me.” 
Author and filmmaker Sherman Alexie waits with dancers backstage for his turn on stage as the keynote speaker at a celebration of Indigenous Peoples’ Day Monday, Oct. 10, 2016, at Seattle's City Hall. AP PHOTO/ELAINE THOMPSON

"The memoir is mostly about my relationship with my late mother, Lillian Alexie. She was a complicated and difficult person. She was sometimes cruel and often cold. I loved her, yes, but I sometimes hated her, too. She was brilliant, funny, beautiful, generous, vindictive, deceitful, tender, manipulative, abusive, loving, and intimidating. She was one of the last fluent speakers of our tribal language. The language is being taught again. And that's wonderful and life-giving. But when my mother died, she took with her so many words, stories, and songs that will never be heard again. Lillian was a storyteller in Spokane and English. She was also a quilter, an amazing artisan and artist. She was industrious and visionary. 

And, after writing this memoir, I am able to proudly admit that I inherited many of my mother's best qualities and ruefully confess that I also inherited many of her worst. 

I am my mother's son.

Lillian haunted me when she was alive. And she has haunted me since her death in July, 2015."

(RM: OBJECTION! You're honor I find the word "haunting" to be unduly influential, and a pejorative.  If he used the word "showing up" or "in my subconscious mind" it would be more palatable, but I digress.)

"And she has haunted me in spectacular ways since I published my memoir a month ago. She has followed me from city to city during my promotional book tour. On three consecutive nights, in three different cities, police and ambulance sirens rang out as I told the story about the moment I learned of my mother's death.

In another city, in a hotel whose decor can best be described as Bram Stroker's Ikea, I stepped out of the elevator to see a handmade quilt hanging on the wall. Why was such a quaint piece of Americana being displayed in such a trendy hotel?

"Hello, Mom," I said to that quilt each time I walked by it.

Last night, as I returned to Seattle, I stepped off my plane to see an airport valet waiting with a wheelchair for one of my fellow passengers. That valet held a sign with a familiar name—a name that made me laugh. That valet was waiting to ferry somebody named Lillian. 

As I write in the memoir, I don't believe in ghosts, but I see them all the time.

(RM: "Believe" "don't believe." These are judgmental terms. One can say I've looked at the consistent reports and must say that it's never happened to me.  But those who have experienced these events obviously had an experience that I have not."  But I digress)

As I also write in the memoir, I don't believe in magic, but I believe in interpreting coincidence exactly the way you want to. I don't believe in the afterlife as a reality, but I believe in the afterlife as metaphor. And my mother, from the afterlife, is metaphorically kicking my ass.

(RM: People ask me all the time if I "believe in the afterlife." And I say "I don't believe in anything. I look at the evidence, which is consistent and replicable of those who claim they can access their loved ones on the flipside.  I prefer to keep my "beliefs" separate from eyewitness reports.  You can call it a belief - but it's like describing jumping into a pool to someone who has never done it.  "Yes, I believe if I jump in that liquid over there, I will survive, I will not disappear, and in fact I will feel refreshed."  The other person can say "I don't believe it."  And even after you jump out of the pool, they can argue "Well you really were never in the pool. Because you're out of the pool now."  It's semantics. But I digress)

"Two weeks ago, during a private academic event, I was speaking to a man from another country. The room was crowded and busy and loud. That man and I had to raise our voices in order to hear each other. I loudly told him about my memoir. I loudly told him about my tribe. I loudly told him about my mother. I loudly told him that she was a ghost who haunted me.

And then, suddenly, all of the conversations in the room stopped. The silence was abrupt and surprising. Thirty strangers were acutely aware of this awkward silence. Thirty strangers laughed together.  "Sherman," the man from another country said to me. "In my culture, when those kind of silences happen, we say that God just passed by." "That's beautiful," I said.

The man talked about his tribe. Then he asked me more about my tribe, "Sherman," he said. "Your tribe's name, Spokane, what does it mean?" I said, "It means 'Children of the Sun.'"

At that moment, the gray summer clouds parted and a bolt of sunlight shot through a small window and illuminated me. I narrowed my eyes against the glare. But my new friend, the man from another country, looked at the light and said, "Ah, Sherman, I think your mother just arrived. It is good to meet her."

I laughed. But I wanted to sob. I did sob later that night. I have been sobbing many times a day during this book tour. I have sobbed in private and I have sobbed onstage.

(RM: If I may - from Lillian's pov it must be really frustrating. She's kicking his ass all right, getting the sun to shine in his face, getting everyone to be silent for a moment - and still, he can't listen!  I can't imagine how annoying that must be for her! But I digress.)

"I have been rebreaking my heart night after night. I have, to use recovery vocabulary, been retraumatizing myself. Last week, I fell ill with a terrible head cold and had to cancel events in Tulsa and Missoula. But I also fell ill with depression. I medicated my head cold. I quickly healed from that simple malady. But I couldn't medicate my sadness—my complicated grief.

I sobbed and sobbed, and then I got on another airplane and continued my book tour. But then, in the fifteenth or twentieth hotel room of this summer, I dreamed.

In this dream, I entered the movie, Smoke Signals, and became Victor Joseph as he ran through the night to save a woman injured in a car wreck. I ran through the desert night. I ran through fire and the memory of fire. I ran until my feet bled. I ran until dawn. I ran until I collapsed exhausted to the road.

In the movie, the collapsed Victor Joseph reaches toward a vision of his dead father. But it is a hallucination. Victor is actually reaching toward a highway construction worker.

In my dream, I am the one fallen to the road. And I reach toward a vision of my dead mother. But she is also the highway construction worker. And she is holding a sign that says STOP.

I think the meaning of that dream is obvious.

It means I am supposed to stop this book tour. Because of the short notice, I'll still perform at my gigs in San Diego, Los Angeles, and San Francisco this month. But I am cancelling all of my events in August and I will be cancelling many, but not all, of my events for the rest of the year.

Dear readers and booksellers and friends and family, I am sorry to disappoint you. I am sorry that I will not be traveling to your cities to tell you my stories in person. But I will be writing.  When I told Diane, my wife, about my mother's ghost and about my plans to cancel so many events, she said, "Maybe it's your mother taking care of you from Heaven." "Maybe," I said. "But I think it's probably your subconscious taking care of the rest of you. I think it's probably you being a good mother to yourself. You are mothering you."

So here I am—the son and the mother combined—who needs to take a big step back and do most of my grieving in private. My memoir is still out there for you to read. And, when I am strong enough, I will return to the road. I will return to the memoir. And I know I will have new stories to tell about my mother and her ghost. I will have more stories to tell about grief. And about forgiveness.

But for now, I can only apologize again for my unexpected retreat. And I thank you, over and over again, for your time, energy, and understanding."

RM: I read this note and wrote something that reflected my research in the field.

Not "heart breaking." Hilarious. When faced with continuous (consistent) nudges from the flipside it's up to us how to react. Disbelief, anger, fear, grief. Or.. amusement, joy, appreciation, gratitude. Only you know the feeling of a loved one's touch, voice or sense of humor. "Stop" can mean a lot of things in a dream. ("Stop ignoring me, denying I still exist, wallowing in memory, avoiding opening your heart." Or "Book tour.") The most direct method is to ask. Whether it's your loved one or your subconscious answering depends upon your path. Either way you miss a possible solution if you don't ask. Publicist should hire me. In an hour I'd have him talking directly to his mom and back on tour - bringing her to life for his audience. First question I'd ask him; "So why did you choose her as your mom?" And repeat it until he answers the simple yet cogent question.

Not trying to mitigate the guy's pain - but when your mom is jumping up and down on the flipside saying "hey! wake up! I'm here!" and your reaction (and I'm sure his doc's) is "well maybe you need to rest and maybe some take medication, you're depressed and in grief." 

Well, there's that - and then there's the idea that it's hard for them to reach out to us, and if we're constantly avoiding acknowledging their attempts to say hello, trying to tell us "i'm still here! I'm ok!" or to tell us "your point of view of our relationship - our journey together, is missing the element that you asked me to play this role before we even got to the planet...because you knew it would inspire you to creativity" well - that's a reframe in any language. 

Obviously she's still rattling him. Which is a good thing.

Would you take advice from this guy?

So I wrote to Sherman via his agent, via his publicist, via his FB page.

I can help you.

On one hand people fear the idea that their loved ones may still exist.

"Oh God no!  They're going to haunt me!!!"  Or worse. "They're going to stand behind me when I overindulge!"  Or worse. "Do they bother me when I'm in bed having sex?"

I had a friend the other day reveal something pretty profound.  

He's not a "believer" in the flipside, per se.  But he has had a number of unusual experiences, and has always had an open mind.

He said he was in bed with his wife, and suddenly, his father who had passed away recently seemed to show up in the room.  And my friend said "and he joined in with me.  I mean, I could feel him enter my body while I was making love to my wife."

Think of a cemetery as an old Ma Bell telephone booth.

I said "Did that freak you out?"  He said "Well, yes, but no.  I actually felt like - Dad! It's you! You want to join in with me? Okay! Sure!"

I mentioned that I had a similar experience many years ago - a close friend who was paralyzed had died, and a few days later, heard this person say "Can I join you for a walk?" and I felt myself saying "Sure."  

And this person stepped into - at least it felt like that - stepped in to my body while I was walking.  (Didn't replace me, didn't become some kind of walking dead spirit - those things don't exist, the only way another entity can show up with us is if we know them intimately, love them, and invite them to participate with us.) I heard my friend's voice in my head say "Oh thank you. It's been a long time since I had the sensation of walking. It's great."

I know how controversial this sounds.  

I certainly am not broadcasting, writing about, or talking about these events.  In fact, I share them because I know that some people will read this sentence and say "Okay, that's it, I'm out of here!"  Which is okay too.  

Anyone who knows me or my work knows that I'm trying to get to a deeper truth, a higher reality.  To examine and explore the nature of reality in all its forms and all its foibles.

So I said to my friend "Did he ask permission first? And did you grant it?" He said "I didn't think about it, but when you asked the question I realized there was a split second when I said "Sure!"
Divine Light in St. Pete's? Or an afternoon in Roma?

It's a little bit like Dracula or any old vampire showing up at your door.  They have to be invited in (or so said Bram Stoker in his original novel.)  Can't come in unless you're invited.  You can say "No! That's freaky! That would freak me out!"  But if it's a loved one - why not?  They've got plenty of other things to do than hang around and watch you all day.

Which takes me back to the point of this post.

What's it like for your loved ones to reach out to you?

Well, they say (and this is based on my interviews with people under hypnosis, interviews with mediums who I believe are connected and speaking to people on the flipside) that for them - it's a process to reach out to you.

Whether in a dream, whether through sound, whether through a visual - whatever sense that they feel they can reach you.
Light at the end of the tunnel... or my kids playing.

So when I ask "Have you been visited by your loved one since they passed?" I'm asking "dream" or "smell" or "vision" or "touch" or "sensation" or a "feeling."  Having them "step into your body while you're in it" is a bit extreme - but I mention it because it appears to be something that's possible to do.

Again - no one has entities shows up willy nilly, after a couple of cocktails and take over our bodies turning us into zombies.  It's just not in the research.  What is in the research is that people have loved ones who show up - they might be loved ones from a previous lifetime, they may be old chums that you haven't seen in this life but they show up to hang out with you - in the previous post I mention the fellow from 1861 - Will Collins - who shows up to hang out with his brother.

Will Collins is already reincarnated and living in Spain as a person that this medium is going to run into in the future (or so he said.)  But some part of Will Collins - after all, we don't use all of our energy while here on the planet, only about a third, so that leaves plenty of other energy from the original Will Collins to perform other amazing feats, like showing up in his brother's room at the age of 8.  (It's possible that Will Collins wasn't incarnated when his brother in this life was seeing him at the age of 8 - I'm just illustrating my point.)

What is my point?

That its hard for them to reach out to us.

That when we're stressed they can't really get us to focus our energy.

That when we're angry, grieving, crying, upset, it's hard for them to reach out to us.

Am I in the mirror or in the restaurant?  Both.
But in Sherman's case - he actually saw his mother with a "STOP' sign.

It could mean she was saying "stop the book tour."

But it could mean she was saying "Stop! Look! Listen! I'm here! I'm still alive! I'm trying to reach out to you Sherman! I'm trying to say hello!  You're doing everything to avoid talking to me!!!"

Which is understandable - as Sherman points out, he's stated that he didn't get along with her for a variety of reasons in this lifetime.

But what he doesn't see, or hasn't seen yet consciously, was the life planning session when he decided that she would play the role of his angry difficult mom - because, well, he asked her to.  He asked her to be the difficult mom so that he could use that grit, that sand in the oyster, to create the pearl that is his art.

I'm not suggesting this is the case.  I'm reporting this is the case.  I've examined hundreds of cases just like it - where we think the biggest stone in our path is insurmountable, until it isn't - and we realize it was the diamond in our life.

Be the diamond in someone else's life.

Just let go.

Just open your heart.

My two cents for you Sherman. The Shaman.


Hacking the Afterlife to speak with Amelia Earhart

This is one of those moments when my Flipside research crosses paths with my film work.

Fred Noonan and Amelia Earhart on their last journey together
I can't begin to describe the emotion I had after three different mediums answered the same odd questions I had them ask directly to Amelia. I've been researching her story for 25 years, and have found evidence of what happened to her after she disappeared, but is not public knowledge. (Some of it will be featured in Sunday's History Channel show from Les Kinney and Dick Spink who had similar paths.) 

Smithsonian - AE in Color

Without meaning to, I had access to three different mediums (Pattie Canova, Jamie Butler, Jennifer Medlyn Shaffer) and as an experiment - not being well versed in mediumship, I thought "Why not ask the same 20 questions to Amelia through three different mediums and see if her story changes?"

As I report in "Hacking the Afterlife"  the answers did not. But beyond that, while asking the question "so what happened to you? How did you die?" (Pattie had said "stomach illness" Jamie said "She's telling me not to focus on the manner of her death but on how she lived" then said "Amelia is telling me she won't reveal how she died to me now, but if the person who wrote this question wants to talk to her privately, she will" (that's me and I did 2 years later while transcribing the session and hearing it for the first time) and Jennifer said "She's showing me a stomach illness. Dysentery?")

During the Jennifer interview "Amelia" added that two GI's had dug up her body on Saipan (in 1944) but had only recovered "an arm." I was familiar with the accounts from Fred Goerner's book "Searching for Amelia" where in the 2nd edition he hunts down the two GI's and they confirm they dug her up, but made no mention of only recovering an arm.

A few minutes after my interview (on film) with Jennifer, I was driving away from her office and got a phone call from a former NTSB investigator who had been given access to this research that will be featured on Sunday's show. He said "Rich, everything you've been saying about her being arrested and incarcerated is accurate. But I noticed something unusual - in the documents, it said that the GIs who dug her up only recovered her arm." Literally seconds after hearing that detail from Amelia, it was being repeated to me from someone who had read a document detailing it.

Six months later, I found a published interview with the two GI's (Chicago Tribune, UPI Jan 1977) where the two GI's said "off camera" that they had only recovered her arm and a partial rib cage. 

I asked "Amelia" point black - "So where is the rest of you?" I fully expected something like "buried at sea" or "on a ship that sunk in Okinawa" but she didn't say that. She had Jennifer draw me a map - of Saipan, where I had just spent four weeks filming eyewitnesses - and she drew a location that I knew exactly what she was talking about. I had been there. She explained why she was there.

Hopefully one day I'll head back there and xray that spot, see if what she's saying is accurate or true - we had permits to excavate the airfield where the Electra is, but ran out of funds. But when someone asked me recently "So why aren't you on the next plane to Saipan to dig up her bones?" 

I replied "What's more important? The fact that Amelia's body is recoverable, that her bones still exist? Or that I was able to communicate with her in real time and prove that she still exists as a person? That we don't die? That we all exist once we leave the planet, and we are all accessible by means if we take the time to figure out how to communicate with ourselves "back home." What's the bigger story here? That Amelia was incarcerated and died on Saipan? Or that she still exists on the Flipside, and we can talk to her directly?"

That's why I'm in no hurry to get back to Saipan. 

Yes, I know where she's buried (or so she indicated). But more importantly, I know where she is now, and she's having a hell of time with her pals on the Flipside. 

I know how controversial this comment is - but seeing her in these color pix brought back the memory of that moment a few years ago, thanks to Jennifer - thanks to my friend Abbie Adams Yaffe who 30 years ago said "No one's told the story of Amelia Earhart and you should do that..." and while she may have disappeared 80 years ago, she's precisely where she wants to be at the moment. (or so she says.)

If you want more details about Amelia and what the research shows happened to her check out ""


A Trip down Memory Lane with a renowned Medium

Had an unusual experience the other day.

My soul group. Grant and Lee circa 1971

It was with a medium, someone who speaks to those no longer on the planet around the world.  Someone whose work is admired world wide for its acuity and accuracy. 

We had an hour long discussion about the Flipside.

I asked him to recount his first memories of having the ability to experience talking to spirit - or people on the flipside.  He said when he was a little boy, he saw another little boy in his room.  He said the boy looked like a "chimney sweep" - someone out of a Dickens novel ("Oliver Twist" was published in 1837).

He said the boy was in the shadows, and he saw him in his room when he was 8 years old.

I asked him if he knew who the boy was. He said he did not.  

He said that he considered him like an "imaginary friend."  It was years later that he told others about his ability to see, hear or sense people on the Flipside, and he never saw the little boy again.

Medium Jennifer Shaffer and hypnotherapist Scott De Tamble

I asked him if he wanted to.

He kind of looked at me, blinked, and I said "It's kind of thing that I do."

What does that mean?

Well, I've found that in interviewing someone like a medium - someone who has a direct connection to people no longer on the planet - I call them "dixie cups" - remember the paper cups attached to a string that we used to speak to our friends with? Some worked better than others - some you could hear the connection really well.  

(I remember when I went to school in Rome, we had the speaking dixie cups from one balcony to the one below. And I can remember speaking to someone 30 yards away on another balcony as if he was in my ear.  But I digress.)

Recently I spoke to a medium in Colorado.  I asked her the same question. She said "when I was a child I saw a gremlin in my room and it scared the heck out of me. But I realized I could see things or people that weren't there."  

And I said to her "Would you like to talk to him?"

At first she seemed reluctant - perhaps frightened to do so.  I said "What does he look like in your memory?" She said "He's scary, looks like a gargoyle and has red eyes."  I said "Take a photograph in your mind. Now move closer to him. What's scary about him?"  She said "Well, he has red eyes."  I said "What's scary about the color red? You mean he has different colored eyes. Is there anything about him that is malevolent?"  She said "Not really."

I said "Well let's ask him directly. Can I ask him directly and he can reply through you?" She nodded "okay."  I said "So who are you Mr. Gremlin and what are you going scaring the heck out of this little girl?"  She replied - in his voice and demeanor - that he was from "a lower realm" and that he occasionally came to "this realm."

I said "By lower, do you mean that as a negative? That the realm you're from is negative, or malevolent?"  He said "No. I mean denser."  I said "Okay, can you show our friend here what it's like on the realm you normally inhabit - what do people look like over there? Do you have friends and family?"  
Can you hear me now?

"Yes" he said. "But not like here."  I said "Okay, thanks for that, but can you show her what your reason for appearing in her room was? How was that associated with this person?"  He said "I was just visiting.  I sometimes like to visit this realm, things are different here, no I wasn't trying to scare her. But sometimes that happens."

I thanked him for the opportunity to interview him and we moved on into other areas, taking her to communicate with her primary guide, who took her in to visit with her council.
Heather Wade
Midnight in the Desert Radio

I noted in these pages recently my interview with Heather Wade on "Midnight in the Desert" where using her near death experience as a gateway, we went back to visit with her guide, and asked her guide to visit with her council, and to examine who these councilors are, and what role they have in her spiritual progression.  

We did this live on air, so anyone who wants to hear the technique can listen for themselves to the broadcast - but we got to visit with people Heather says she's never seen or met before consciously, but felt like she'd known them forever.

I point out these two cases, as to what my process is in asking these questions.  If it's true that we don't die, if it's true we have spirit guides, if it's true we have councils and soul groups and everything else that might decade of research has shown consistently (referencing the 40 sessions I've filmed, the dozens of interviews, and the thousands of cases cited by Michael Newton, Dr. Wambach and others) - then what's the harm in conducting an interview as if I know where we're going, even if the interviewee does not?

I completely agree that I'm asking leading questions.  

But to complain about leading questions is like being in a swimming pool and hoping to float to the edge.  It's okay to kick your feet, or paddle, or swim - if every time you do so you reach the side of the pool - or you get the same results - I'd argue that it's a waste of time to float in the middle of the pool waiting for results, when it's much easier to help people to swim to the edge.  Not the best metaphor, but you get the idea.
Memory is a funny thing.

So I asked my friend the medium about this waif that appeared in his room when he was 8. 

I said "Who is he?" He said "I don't know."  I said "Can you see him now?" He said "yes."  I said "Okay, walk over to him and tell me what he looks like." He described a young boy, also about 8, who was dirty and wearing the clothing of the 19th century.  I said "What color are his eyes?"  He said "I can't see them."  I said, "Take his hands in your minds eye, and pull him into the light."  He said "They're blue." I said "Describe him." He said "He looks like me, but younger."

I said "ask this fellow his name."  He said "I'm hearing Will.  William Collins." 

 I said "So Will, have you ever had a lifetime with our friend here?" He said "yes." I said "Can you show him that lifetime now?"  And my friend said "I see a poor house in London. About 1861. It's on Cooper Street."

  I asked him to tell me about the place - if there was any happier time, and he said that there wasn't. It was all misery. But that he and Will lived there, were brothers in 1861. His name was Tom.

I asked to go to Will's last day on the planet. He described a boy lying dead on the floor from consumption.  It wasn't much later.  I asked him to follow Will through the death process - and he said "I see a light, but I can't seem to get there. I'm stuck here."  I said "that's okay, let's revisit this later."  I asked him to go back to Tom, his own lifetime, and follow him to a place where he did something outside the poor house on Cooper street.

Note: This is historically accurate. Here's a portrait of a poor house on Cooper Street from that same year: 1861. Here's a link to a reference from a book in 1870: and here's from John Hollingshead's: "Ragged London in 1861"

Not far from this place towards the end of 
our panorama nestling at the back of the 
Waterloo Road, immediately under the shadow of 
the large engineering premises of Messrs. Mauds- 
lay, Sons, and Field, is a reproduction of the 
worst features of a back settlement in Man- 
chester, Bolton, or Birmingham. In no part of 
the overcrowded parish of Lambeth a parish 
that probably contains nearly one hundred and 
seventy thousand people are there any streets 
more badly built, more neglected, or more hope- 
lessly filthy and miserable than Jurston Street, 
Cooper Street, and their adjacent thoroughfares." 

The Census taker from 1861 in a poor house taking names.

I looked up and found a number of Tom and William Collins (and Colins) as well as fellows named Tom Collins who died in wars just prior to 1861.  The type of squalor that the medium described, was not something I was aware of. I am a fan of Dickens and Oliver Twist - but I didn't realize that book was written in 1830's.  He described these children in their ragamuffin clothes, and saw them sweeping, cleaning, and winding up with dirt all over them in squalid conditions.

When I asked him to remember a happier time in that lifetime, he thought about it for a long time and then said there were none. I asked if he ever went anywhere outside the poor house, and he said when he did, he would go off to a public house - a tavern. 

I asked what was the name and he said "It looks like the "Nell Gwynne" pub. (The Nell Gwynne is 7 miles from Cooper Street) He said he was too young to buy a drink, but he went there to help out, to get any kind of food he could.  He said that there were "bareknuckle fights" going on - and that he saw a lot of blood from his perspective. 

He described hiding under the tables to get bits of food and scraps, but from his perspective it was dark and bloody. 

I asked him to go to the last day of that life, and he said that he too, died on the floor not much longer after his brother. He saw his body lying on the same floor of the same poor house where his brother had died.

Note: The Nell Gwynn pub was originally the Bull Free House - built in the 18th century, turned into a pub in the early 1800's. Three minutes away from it is the "Lamb and Flag" another pub which was famous for its bareknuckle fights in the 1800's. 

I asked him why he experienced this lifetime. What was the purpose of it? 

He said "Sharing."  I asked "how did you learn about sharing?" He said that he took the food and shared with the others in the poor house. 

A rather difficult lesson in sharing.

People often describe these
places of healing as in a forest setting
I asked if we could go forward after his death and he took us through the light, and into a beautiful field, which I called "a place of healing" and he met with his guide there. 

 I asked him to walk around this place, and he said "stepping into the water is a cleansing feeling" and I asked him to describe the trees - "energetic beings."  (This is a common memory - sometimes its inside, sometimes outside - but it's a place of total contentment.  He said as much, and I asked if it was a place of unconditional love?  He said, "yes."

Then I asked his guide to take him to "his council."  I said "Our friend here may not know what I'm talking about, but you do."  And he was standing in front of a group of 8 people in a circle around him. (Heather Wade had 12 people in her group, the Medium in Colorado had 8 as well.)  I asked him to approach each member of his council, describe them and tell me what quality they represented in his "spiritual evolvement."

You never know who shows up in your soul group.

And like that we went around the council. One had a carving of a bear hanging around his neck - I asked what that represented and he said "courage."  We got all the other 8 qualities of his counselors including "sharing."  

As we did this interview, we were sitting outside in a cafe - there was never a moment when we weren't just "chatting over coffee" about these events. He never closed his eyes, and I never changed or modulated the way I was speaking. But he had full access to what he was seeing while he  kind of stared into the distance.  

My council in Ladakh.

After about an hour or so, he paused and said "It's really hard to maintain focus like this."  (He had also done a number of sessions earlier in the day) I thanked all the council members for giving us the opportunity to interview them, talk to them, I spoke to his guide (a Tibetan) in Tibetan - he said his guide's name and I said "that means "wind" in Tibetan." (Lung)

(Consciously, I said it aloud before I knew what I was saying - I have read books about Tibetan medicine, so I probably know what that word means in my subconscious, but my conscious mind does not.) 

After this session, I had to look the word up, and indeed it does mean "wind" in Tibetan - and refers to the engine of consciousness.  ("Wind Horse" is "Lung Ta" - The word itself is like the horse ("ta") that consciousness rides upon.

Finally, I asked his guide if he could show us his friend Will and if he had ever left the place he was in. He said that he saw Will in his "soul group" - as an adult, a handsome, happy fellow in his 30's.  That was kind of thrilling for me - as we left him behind in this conversation, and I had the presence of mind to ask about what happened to him - and when he saw him our mutual friend smiled.  

Rodin looking like me in a tophat.
I said "Let's ask Will - have you incarnated since then, or are you on the planet now?" And Will said "Yes, I'm in Spain.  He gave his first name - his last name was not accessible - but I asked "Is that because our friend here is going to meet you at some point in the future so that you can reconnect?"  And Will said "Yes. In Spain."

I filmed this encounter, and at some future date, I'll see if my friend the world famous medium wants me to share more details about it.  But for now, I'm sharing it because it's just one more example of how we have access to our previous lifetimes, we have access to our guides, we have access to our council of elders - all of these things are accessible.  

I asked him prior to the session if he had ever "spoken to his council" and he said "no," and when he told me about this young boy who appeared in his room, I asked if he knew who he was, or had seen him since, and he said "no."  But he did know who he was - it just wasn't available to his conscious mind.

It helps if you have a Newton trained hypnotherapist doing this work (a searchable database is at to find a hypnotherapist trained in this method near you), and my ability to do so is based on the ten years of research and the 40 sessions I've filmed.  Again, if you have access to a Newton Trained therapist, I highly recommend that route - but it serves to prove that we do have access to this information.  It just requires us to focus on it.

All we need to do is listen.


Requiescat in Pace - Resting in Peace


Sometimes I wake up having had a long and deep discussion with someone... not entirely sure who, about the flipside.

Luana Anders in the Mirror

This morning it was "resting in peace."

I'm going to assume this isn't your first time visiting this page.  If it is, it's going to throw you for a loop - so perhaps take a step back, check out some of this research at "Flipside" the book or the film, if you're interested in that topic, you might continue on into "It's a Wonderful Afterlife" and if that piques your interest, you might foray into "Hacking the Afterlife."

And if you'd like some reference books to look into, I recommend a bit of everything - Robert Monroe, Michael Newton, Brian Weiss, Jim Tucker, Carol Bowman, Raymond Moody, Helen Wambach, Bruce Greyson, Gary Schwartz, Ed Kelly, Mario Beauregard... I put bibliographies in my books, and you could spend the next ten years reading about research into consciousness, into near death experiences, out of body experiences, people under hypnosis, reincarnation - and if you come to another conclusion than I have, I'm eager to hear it.

I'm still in this mirror. Somewhere.
We don't die.

I know that upsets people. You'd think it wouldn't.  "Oh boy! We don't die! Life goes on! How cool is that!!??" 

But that's not what happens.  Our entire worldview is based on the fact that we die. That we earn or deserve what happens to us on the planet based on sociological factors, on genetics, on the ethics and morality of good and bad.  

If it's true that we don't die - then all of our societal institutions are incorrect - and then? Woah - we've got a major dilemma on our hands.  

What do we do with criminals?  If we don't die, then putting them to death serves no purpose. In fact, it's giving them a golden ticket "home."  If we really wanted to help a soul - or solve a problem - or even address a problem - we'd have those who've committed heinous crimes the chance to right some of their wrong. The family who lost a loved one could benefit from this person learning more lessons, even if it's in the drudgery of a prison cell - because every day they're on the planet, they have the capacity to learn lessons in compassion by giving compassion.

Gandhi understood this. A man came to him who said he was bereft because his Hindu son had been murdered by a Muslim.  Gandhi advised the man to adopt the orphan child of someone who was Muslim - but then raise that child as a Muslim.  Lessons in compassion over and over again.

What do we do with the concept of abortion?  If we don't die, then there's no point in fighting tooth and nail over it. People need compassion - if they can possibly bring this life to fruition, it's a good thing. It can be a difficult choice, but knowing how difficult it was for this baby to choose them as a parent might make them consider a different path.  In equal fashion, we realize we have no right to judge others for their path and journey - if as reported, we choose our lifetimes,then we have no right to tell others what kind of lifetime to choose unless we are in their shoes.

What to do with evil in the world?  Well, there's a problem there too. In these reports, thousands of between life sessions, they report that evil does not exist "back home" in the realm we return to after death. No Satan, no evil per se, ruling our lives.  I know the conundrum of the concept - but what about evil on the planet? We live in a world of positive, negative - good, bad - yin, yang - it's a polarized world after all.  If we experience one aspect, that means the opposite exists... here.  

How to deal with evil on the planet? First recognize that it's in the eye of the beholder - nature doesn't commit evil acts, animals can't commit evil acts, there's only hunger, desire, fear... and we too contain all those aspects. Fear, desire, hunger... but mostly fear.  We can master fear within ourselves, but can we do so in others? We can if we recognize it as fear and not evil - and then react accordingly.  

Do our best to teach, educate, disarm - but on the other hand, knowing that when we pick up a weapon to kill another person who is threatening to kill us - what we're really doing.  Ending another's temporary journey on the planet.  It's not something to be desired, or wished, and when our time comes we will understand why we needed to do that.  Even the Dalai Lama argues that a person who takes on the "karma" of killing a killer, may do so to protect other sentient beings.  It's all relative.

I know, it's a big topic. I can't solve it here. But I can certainly discuss it here.

Back to resting in peace.  "RIP"

Per Lachaise cemetery. Who's resting here?
Think of it this way - since we don't die - we come to the planet and we experience as much as we can, hopefully its lessons in love and compassion,and we leave behind the energy of all the people we've loved and learned from.

After we check off the planet, our energy returns to "the rest of our energy" that is on the flipside. In Michael Newton's work, he learned from his 7000 clients that only about a third of our energy comes here to any lifetime - and about two thirds of our energy is always "back home" or doing something else.  People describe teaching, being in class, learning, playing, having adventures - all kinds of things that happen or occur while that third of us is down here on stage.
Dalai Lama's bedroom as he left it in Lhasa. Is he here sometimes?
But like a great actor who leaves a stage - once we're off stage, we leave behind the residue of our energy.  It might be in other's behavior, it might be in people's memories of us - it might be in physical objects like photographs, which are slices of magnetic holograms of time - it might be in footage of us, film, it might even be in objects that we owned. Hence why mediums like to hold onto an object of someone who once lived.

How does that work?

Well, from my research, think of everything we touch as gaining our fingerprints.  They're energetic fingerprints and contain all the information that's needed to find us anywhere in the universe. So if you owned a pocketwatch for example, and you check off the planet, and a 100 years later someone takes hold of that timepiece - depending on whether they're thinking of "who owned this before" you can choose to show up and examine "who's holding my watch?"  Remember that you've been busy doing other things for that 100 years (which in flipside time may feel like a few hours or minutes) - but allow for a moment that you have the time to zip back here and see who it is that is "channeling" you.

Old fotos retain some of the energy of the people in them.

And you may show up to them - you may answer their questions. You may tease or cajole them - depending - or maybe you're straight with them and give them some form of insight or teaching.  They may ask you a question and you have to muster up the energy to reply - to focus your energy towards their energy so they can "hear" or "see" you - and you give them a concept or a thought to chew on.

"Everything's going to be okay."

That's a common thought that people claim to hear from their loved ones - sometimes while under deep hypnosis, sometimes in a dream - sometimes during an out of body experience, sometimes during a near death experience. "You're going to be okay."  (Aside from the answer to "How are you?" - the answer is usually "I'm fine.")

In this foto in Caffe Greco in Rome:
Wild Bill Cody and his pal Sitting Bull.
Still existing.
But beyond that... as people pass away and head back to the Flipside - people no longer on the planet - they go about their business and continue to live their lives - there's no other word for it but life - because life, as indefinable as it is as a word, is what we're talking about.  Existence. Consciousness.  It continues on.

And at some point - everyone who knew you - who knew what you looked like, who heard your stories, who knows who you are in a photograph - is no longer on the planet.  So absence of some reason to be here - there's absolutely no reason for you to show up here in the old form that you once held focus on. 

Let's say you were a slave in Rome 2000 years ago.  And you haven't accessed that file, or that information in all your lifetimes since.  Then, at some point, you're in Rome, and suddenly you start to see that it seems familiar. You're not really sure why, but perhaps you have a dream where you access those memories of living in Rome. You wake up, and they disappear. It's just part of your "life" - part of the makeup of who you are. Part of the hard drive of memories that we all retain and compare to our currenty path and journey.

Old Romans

We're never resting.  We're always continuing on, always making the next step on our journey.  (There's been reports of how that process begins and where it winds up, but I'll leave that for another discussion. It's in my books if you can't wait.)

Never resting in peace.  Not that we are being haunted, or that we're haunting - which it's possible to do if that's your thing - the funny part of that is that it's up to you to haunt or not to haunt... most people just want to "go home" after their lifetimes, but sometimes people like to stick around.  It makes for good story telling, makes for kind of silly TV shows, makes for great story telling if you're Will Shakespeare. 

But ghosts give us a glimpse of the afterlife.  Like residue outside the pool that indicates someone got out of the pool and left a wet spot.  Eventually it will dry up - and that soul will eventually head "home."  Michael Newton asked a woman about her memory of haunting an English castle for 200 years... she said "She felt comfortable doing so" and enjoyed the occasional startled tourist. 

Michael Newton in a still from "Flipside"
When Newton asked her "so how did you decide to return home?"  She said that her guide showed up and tapped his wrist - as if pointing to an invisible watch - as if to say "Have you had enough time lounging around here?"  And at that point she decided to "return home" - prior to this lifetime where she was telling Newton about her journey.

I reported in "Hacking" that I used to "sense" a ghost in a friend's home back east. It was a "scary ghost" - someone who whenever he showed up was accompanied by a chill, or a feeling of dread. Something awful happened to this fellow.  I researched the property and found that indeed this location used to contain a British jail.  And what I was seeing was soldiers who had been beaten, tortured, or were dying in this cell.

The next time it happened, I was armed with this research.  Before, I had gotten some sage, had walked around to all the corners of the home and burned it - I heard this from a Tibetan healer when I asked her about it - but again, this was before I came to realize that we choose where we're going to be, and it was my job to investigate why this fellow was showing up.

I asked "So show me you're life, who you are." And what "came to mind" was a British soldier, ginger, unhappy, who had lived and worked in this jail, and who had seen immeasurable suffering.  I didn't ask him to show me precisely what that was - I'm not into revenge videos - but I did ask "Do you see a light anywhere near you?"  And I got the feeling that it was behind him and far away.  I said (in my mind's eye, I was lying in bed when I felt him enter the room) "Behind that light is everyone who ever loved you, everyone who was your friend in your lifetime, and they're waiting for you to come home. Just go into that light, and you'll see that I'm right."  

It was a year later that we were at the same location, and I felt his presence enter the room one early morning. Except this time, he wasn't bloody, worn and beaten - he seemed to be dressed up, his hair shorter, trim.  And he said (in my mind's eye - it's what i heard or dreamed, no way to prove or disprove any of it) "I just wanted to come and thank you for sending me home."


What's interesting about that is that he still had the capacity to return to this location. Again, from his perspective, his fighting for the Brits in 1812 (that's when the jail was there) had occurred 200 years earlier - but in terms of the Flipside, it had only felt like a month earlier.  As I report in "It's a Wonderful Afterlife" my friend had a between life session where she remembered a lifetime in 1610. (which i was able to verify).   When she returned to what she had been doing (she was teaching a class) she said "wow, that lifetime (of 25 years) felt like I was gone for ten minutes."

Her class was waiting for her while one third of her energy went and lived a lifetime on the planet.  Those 25 years felt like ten minutes over there. So if 25 years is ten minutes - then 200 years feels like less than 100 minutes over there.,. about an hour and a half.  Not so strange to see that people who've lived years ago might still want to hang around here. It's their choice after all.

So rest in peace! Yes, but the words are meant for us really.  We need to put them to "rest in peace" within ourselves. Our loved ones: They're okay. They're not gone. They're just not here.

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