By the way, the film "Soul" is a documentary. I mean it feels like one to me.
Yes, everything in this film is referenced in the book/film "Flipside."
"Nurseries for new souls. Guardians ("Jerry") who tend over them."
"The right to refuse to incarnate."
"How it takes courage and compassion to come here."
"Why people volunteer to help others."
Couldn't have said it better myself.
Pixar and Pete Docter for the home run. Music (John Baptiste) is angelic. Kudos all around.
If you'd like to read the textbook that has all the same information, here it is:
Tongue in cheek, but everything in "Soul" is in this book published in 2012 |
FLIPSIDE: A TOURIST'S GUIDE ON HOW TO NAVIGATE THE AFTERLIFE
Had an unusual conversation last night with someone I've never met before, and apparently have yet to meet.
The Man with No Name whose name is actually Clint.
This happens occasionally, and usually before Jennifer Shaffer and I have a discussion about the flipside on our podcast "Hacking The Afterlife." But I try to remember that they are "outside of time" and I'm on my time frame - so it's up to them who shows up and why.
In this case, I had a long conversation with someone interesting - I can only report bits and pieces of it, because it was a bit complex, and by the time I became consciously aware I was having the conversation, my conscious minds was saying "Wait. What? Who? How? Is this a dialectical argument? Who is saying what?"
I tend to have these conversations, sometimes with Luana Anders, my pal who checked off the planet some decades ago, but now is moderating our class and helping me with these various "conversations."
It's not like the filmed version of a "conversation with a ghost." It's more like - I'm having a conversation, my conscious mind becomes aware of the conversation somewhere in the middle, sometimes the end - and then asks the question "What were we talking about?" And if I get an answer, I note it, perhaps write it down somewhere to address it later.
I can only report.
So last night was someone who seemed to go by the moniker "the one who shall not be named." I don't know why that was the case - as I didn't see anyone. It was like he was speaking to me behind a door. Not a literal door, but some kind of mechanism that didn't allow any other access but mentally.
And when I became aware of this conversation, I started to ask questions, the usual ones I ask. "So, have you ever incarnated?"
"No. I'm from another realm, and I can transverse realms."
"Have you ever incarnated in the other realm that you're from?"
"Well yes and no, not quite in the way that you imagine it."
"So why the mysterious name? You're the man who has no name?"
(Correcting me) "No. I'm the one who shall not be named."
"Why is that? Is there a problem with your name?"
He said "It's because you wouldn't be able to understand the conversation, if I gave you a name, you'd reduce it the way people do so that we cannot have a conversation. The reason I have no name is not because you can't know it, or it's not allowed, it's because when or if you parse something - put a name or label to it, you reduce it, and the conversation falls apart into a mist, or sea of syntax."
(As best as I can convey what he was trying to say.)
So I asked "Well, what are you doing here chatting with me?"
His reply was "Because you can do so, and because you also have other venues where you can pass along information. So the information I'm trying to impart to you - is how perception and observation are two sides of the same coin. That when you are in the audience observing the stage, you are also on stage experiencing the play or the event. It's impossible to perceive both sides of that perception at the same time, but you can bounce back and forth."
He said, "You might call me a collector. A collector of souls might be the term - but it's inaccurate, because I don't collect them per se, I show up when they need assistance. In your research, in the reports you've been writing about, people generally recall the trip "home" - where they had a previous lifetime, they recall the journey back and they go there willingly and not often in need of assistance - however, there was one account in a recent book of yours where I assisted that person."
I ask, "Do you mean the account of the River Charon, and the boatman?" (It's from "Architecture of the Afterlife").
A drawing of the boatman on River Styx
"Yes, and I'm here to clarify some points about that. At the time, you were interviewing your friend about the death of someone else, someone she felt connected to, and was asking him your questions - "what happened when you died?" (It was Andrew Mellon).
The book: Architecture of the Afterlife where he was referenced
"And in this case, the fellow said that he was met by a boatman, and ferried across the river. At the time, you asked me if I was aware that I was the boatman of myth... and I didn't reply to you at the time, but I am now."
"Of course I am aware of that myth, of course I'm aware of how consciousness works, it's not like just because I'm playing the role for someone else I'm not aware of that reality. Of course I'm aware that the "person who knocks on your door to take you to the underworld" or "Yamantanka" the god of death in both Buddhist and Hindu literature is a creation, a construct - of course I'm aware of that, and I'm here to let you know that you had the question and at the time I didn't get a chance to reply."
At this point, he reminds me of the chapter in "It's a Wonderful Afterlife Part two" where Robert Thurman spoke of the "death of death" - a Buddhist meditation on the idea that Yamantanka, a messenger who shows up to escort the faithful home - not really a faith involved, but that's the idea, a guy with the head of a fierce bull - fire in his eyes and hair - when Buddha passed along his information to the planet, he also passed it along to this mythological character who realized that death doesn't exist.
So in essence, this fellow, outside the door, is saying to me "Of course I know how things work, of course I knew how things worked even when Buddha learned of those things - it's not like we aren't aware of how things work over here, it's humans who aren't aware of them."
Then the next topic was "the perception of evil" when a person is passing away.
The idea that they might see "hell" (1% of NDE's report a negative experience, but no two match). The idea, as I've repeated in the books, and as has been offered and suggested by many of the reports, is that evil doesn't exist as a "thing" per se - but that it's a human construct. So if one is convinced they're going to be met by Satan and a team of demons - they might construct that... but at some point in time, their mind becomes bored with that construct and they "return home."
I must add, it's a little bit like the "limbo region" as described in the film "Soul" - where people are wandering around like dark objects, kind of flailing about, as creatures... driven by fear, or self doubt, or self loathing.
I mean - the film is a documentary! - this is also reported in the research.
A person steps into the flipside and if they're convinced they're going to hell, or are going to place of sulfur (as described in "Hacking the Afterlife") or a place inhabited by evil people - they may construct that. But at some point they realize - that hoofs aren't inherently evil, that horns are matted hair and cartilage, that fire isn't a bad thing - except if it's a metaphor for bad breath - then it can be really bad... but I digress. Red eyes aren't a bad thing either, do not represent evil - just another color on the spectrum.
But back to this fellow without a name (correction, "man who shall not be named") speaking about his journey.
I asked.
What I got was "People use all kinds of names for me, and that's their prerogative. But I volunteer to help them when they need help - I show up in a non denominational way, as a frequency or vibration, and depending upon their background, belief system, they'll assign some kind of moniker or reason for me to be there - but again, I'm just a frequency showing up to do a favor.
I help people to get home."
And when he puts it that way it suddenly makes sense. The flipside is home. It's here on stage, the performance part of it where we are "not home." And anyone who helps someone to get home - whether they're breathing fire, or playing a lute with wings who sings - they're just "walking each other home."
So that's what I got out of that conversation.
It is in line with "you believe what you want to believe" portion of the book "Architecture of the Afterlife" - but it also includes the idea that the frequency that shows up to help us could be a loved one, a grandmother, parent, sibling - or it could be someone we knew in life who loved us dearly.
Or it could be someone we don't know - because we are not trying to get home, and this "man who shall not be named" passes us off to our guide (guardian, or "Jerry") who will help us get where we belong back home.
My two soul farthings.