Nirvana and the Flipside

Interesting story came to my attention the other day...

Portals are everywhere.

A friend on Facebook posted this story about her dad: 

"Many of you know my dad recently passed. 
 Here is one of the incidents I experienced with him in hospice. I was alone with dad one day, he was in bed, he called me to the bed and grabbed my hand. 

He was seeing something from the "beyond", and I could feel his energy rise, and his eyes were darting back and forth and at the same time he cracked a wee smile. He said loud and clear.. "Nirvana." 

He was squeezing my hand with a decent grip for a 94 year old man in hospice. Then, as fast as the show appeared, it left.. He let go of my hand and said, Oh crap, I'm back!!!

I wrote to her; 

"Condolences... and yet, this about sums up my "Flipside" research. On one side "Nirvana!" On the flipside: "Oh crap, I'm back."

Portals literally everywhere.

What's going on here? 

It's quite common in the hospice stories I've heard. Usually seeing someone, often a loved one, sometimes a stranger (over here, not over there) beckoning. Sometimes a vision, like Steve Jobs saying "oh wow, oh wow, oh wow" before he passed, or Roger Ebert calling it "a vastness you can't imagine" - it's as if the filters, or interference shuts down, or is shutting down, and we get a glimpse of the flipside. 

The "oh crap" part is funny, because over here we're slow, we're heavy, we lose the feeling of unconditional love we feel over there. But we also forget why we came here while we're here, to change lives and learn lessons.

Her dad Will perfectly sums up the difference between here and there. (He's not gone by the way; he's just not here).

I'm sure he's adjusting, lots of pals to see again, stories to share. I hope Will reaches out to his daughter; not everyone is tuned the same, if he can figure out the tuning, he'll reach out. Either in dreams (easiest) or some other fashion. 

Dr Elisa Medhus got a physical phone call from her son Erik on her cell (hardest). It took that dramatic step to get her attention. But you never know - think of a question you don't know the answer to, and ask it aloud. (Holding a pic, according to the reports, seems to help) If they can, they'll answer it.

Are you seeing something I'm not seeing?

So when you wake up in the morning, it's good to think a bit about what will said.  Is it "Nirvana" or "oh crap?"  I think we can choose Nirvana - and the more we see it here in our conscious minds, the sooner we'll see it there when the time comes. 

My two cents.

The Flipside of the Flipside

Tragedy is everywhere.

Courage is everywhere too.

It takes courage to come to the planet.  That's what the research shows anyway - in the scholarly articles that were done about hypnosis by Dr. Helen Wambach in the 1960's and the many cases reported by Dr. Michael Newton in the 1970's-90's we find that each time people choose to show up on the planet there's a reason to do so.

Divine light or some dust?

In other words, the journey, as hard as it is to accomplish, isn't done without some forethought.

People say that sometimes they were coerced to "come back" by their loved ones - because they wanted them to play some kind of role in their lives, and they just weren't "all that happy" to do so, but did it out of a favor. And when they get here to the planet, they forget that they made that agreement and came to fulfill a role - and just don't want to be here at all.

And then other people come to give others such a deeply profound lesson in love that it takes the breath away.  I'm reminded of these stories with the loss of this little Syrian boy who drowned while trying to get to a better life than where he was.

Aylan Kurdi and his brother Galip. courtesy CNN

I've seen some pretty intense films made in Syria, in the midst of this war, by people who still live there, who still are trying to make sense of the nonsense, who observe "If we were kittens, more people would pay attention to us."  It's an epic crisis happening on the planet, and there doesn't seem to be much that anyone can do about it, except wait and see who winds up on top.

 
Here's a film that shows why people are doing everything to leave Syria. It's 14 minutes, worth watching.

But I'd like to offer that despite this tragedy - which is ongoing - people can understand that we all choose our lifetimes. 

Sometimes its to come here to teach a lesson in compassion.  How can people turn their backs on those fighting for their lives?  How can we turn our backs on the planet which is fighting for its life?  How can we turn our backs on our loved ones who are fighting for their lives?

Research shows we come her for a reason and not to just cut down trees.

 But somehow we wind up turning our backs, or doing the politically expedient thing - whether it's attacking and going to war and taking more lives, or ignoring the people who are in desperate straights, or ignoring the homeless person asking for a nickel or a smile.  

People in the Sudan, people lighting themselves on fire in Tibet to escape Chinese occupation, people who are impoverished, addicted to drugs, who lash out - people who are in uniform who fear for their lives and pull the trigger before they realize what's happening... these events occur every day, and we get so caught up in the emotion of them, we can't stop to applaud those who came here, sacrificed their lives so we could learn something about compassion.


It's hard to wrap my mind around it, for sure, but I offer it because it's in the data. It's in the thousands of cases that have been examined, it's in so many differing accounts from so many people across the planet who've never met, that there must be something more to it than meets the eye.

Two people who chose very different paths, but found ourselves at the same place.

 Which takes us to another eyeful.  A county clerk raised by her tradition to be conservative takes it upon herself to deny gay people the right to marry.  Conservative pundits run - no, elbow each other to her defense, until it turns out the clerk has been married four times, twice to the same fellow, whom she conceived kids with with one of her previous husbands.  If she had spent any time reading the actual book, instead of smacking people with it, she might have seen the concept that "love your neighbor as yourself" and "what you do to the least of these, you do to me" is in that good book... over and over again.

"Kingdom of God is Near" isn't a warning; it's a location.

But somehow, she can't see the fact that we are all equal - on this side of the fence, and on the other side of the fence.  That the "Kingdom of God is near" isn't a warning, but an observation of locality - that heaven, or the flipside, is actually so close we need only close our eyes to focus on it, get information, solace and energy from it.  And lessons too.

I'd post her picture, but what's the point? She'll be on a book tour soon, and her face splattered across the media, and then some years later, it will come out that she meant something else, or that she's sorry for causing stress, or whatever.

Here's the thing.

What the research into the afterlife shows is that the predominant paradigm in the universe is love. 

We don't have a proper definition for the word love, just like we don't have one for the word "home" (which every session I've filmed, when people are asked "where would you like to go?" they say "home" and they don't mean here.)  We have no real, concrete definition for love - but we all know what it means, we've all experienced it, so therefore, we "know it."

Universal studios, otherwise known as The Universe.

And as I've heard on more than one occasion doing this research "God is too difficult a concept for the human brain to comprehend, it's not physically possible" yet "you can experience God if you open your heart to everyone and all things."

Open your heart to everyone and to all things.

Shall we repeat it together out loud?  "OPEN YOUR HEART TO EVERYONE AND TO ALL THINGS."

Open your heart to all things. Including fans of the Cubs. (me)

 That's what, or who God is.  And you can experience God by opening your heart to everyone and all things.  I get this information from the Flipside.  And it's information from the Flipside that helps us over here on the Flipside of the Flipside.

If this county clerk could open her heart to everyone and to all things, she would experience God. Open her heart to the things she doesn't understand, or fears.  It's that simple.  And in like form, that means I have to open my heart to her.  I don't know why she chose this path, but I honor it.  It's possibly to show and demonstrate what lack of compassion is so we can experience compassion.  I don't know why she chose a life to have three husbands and four marriages, but I honor that choice.  It's her choice after all, I'm not in her shoes, and I can't judge her for it.

Opening your heart to all things, not so hard if the thing is a rose.

The thorn not so much.

  Just like the parents of the child who drowned trying to find safety and freedom and love with his family.  

He's not gone, he's just not here. He came to teach a lesson in love, perhaps to learn a lesson in love - I don't know the answer because I'm not in his shoes. He knows why he chose this path, and he may have left early because he's going to come back in the future with his soul mates to perform some other act of compassion. It's possible.

He will always be with his parents.  He had his reasons for coming here to have a short life - I can't judge those reasons either, but I can appreciate the outpouring of love for him.  I can appreciate that everyone seeing his photo has opened their hearts just a bit, and can feel that experience of love.  I honor him for his courage to do so.

Love exists.  And God, or whatever word you prefer, whatever nomenclature makes you comfortable - you can call it "the energetic etheric quantum substance that connects all of us etherically" - or you can call it "the thing that I know exists because I exist" - whatever words suit what your heart feels, that's the idea I'm trying to get at.

We learn from this research into the flipside how to live and behave and be compassionate on the flipside of the flipside. Which is.. 

Right where you are.

My two cents.

In Memory of Julian Baird

In Memory of Julian Baird

Some part of me kept me from editing this (the second part of the film "A Portrait of Julian Baird" from 2 1/2 hours down to 90 minutes for the past two years. It's physically possible to do it, I just didn't want to do it. Part of me didn't want Julian to pass away either, and so maybe that's what stopped me from editing him. Apologies for the length. I remember his lectures took about two hours, so think of this as an extended lecture. In honor of his passing I've put this second part of his interview together and just let it be what it is. For those who loved Julian it will be a bit like getting a chance to sit with him once again, and for that reason I'm leaving it long. But hearing of his passing this week, I realized I no longer had to worry about whether he might like this particular part, or if he felt another part was too long.

I wouldn't be robbing him of two more hours of his life to watch my edit of his life. It is what it is. Thanks to Elaine for giving me access to him and your lovely home, and putting up with my questions. I think you'll enjoy this. I offer this portrait out of love for a man who certainly influenced my path and journey, and although Julian was a firm advocate of consciousness ending at death's door - as he put it "Why would I care if I lived before or if I'm going to live again? I'm having too much fun enjoying this lifetime" - I'm of the mind that I'll get a chance to see him again. 

We spent some hours talking about it - and I admire how his mind worked in refuting what he considered wishful thinking. To me, he embodied wishful thinking, as he taught me that what I thought mattered. He taught me to ask questions that I didn't know the answer to. And I've been doing that my whole life. So here it is - part two - the story of the young boy growing up on Texas, a million miles from Oxford and Harvard - and yet somehow he earns scholarships to both places. He lived many lives in this one lifetime - I'm only sorry I didn't get to spend more time hearing his insights - his teachings if you will, which are within this piece. So think of it as attending a lecture of Julian's, and the subject is himself - and he gives it to us in an unvarnished fashion, filled with great laughter and insight. Enjoy.

As promised:  A Portrait of Julian Baird Part 2.



 

PORTRAIT OF JULIAN BAIRD PART TWO

My thoughts when I heard he'd passed:


What a prince! Greatest teacher I've ever known, quickest mind i ever met, his mind like a lightning bolt, to earn a laugh from him was an achievement, quite thrilling. So glad i got the chance to reconnect with him, hear his laugh once more, and am looking forward to hearing it on the flipside. Bon voyage Julian, and thank you for your friendship.


Here's the obit from the Cape Cod paper: - he talks about this in part 2 - Imagine him - a poor boy living in a small town in Texas, a million miles from Harvard and Oxford - and yet he won scholarships to both schools.  And another scholarship to get his doctorate at Harvard - the man was the most amazing mind I've ever met... well, see for yourself.

 The Cape Cod Times Obituaries
Julian Baird

Posted Aug. 26, 2015 at 2:01 AM

Julian Baird
ORLEANS - Julian T. Baird of Orleans, MA, died peacefully at home of leukemia on August 22, 2015.
 
Born in Harlingen, TX in 1938, Julian received his Bachelor of Arts Degree Magna cum Laude from Harvard College in 1960, his Master’s Degree from Oxford University (Wadham College), and his PhD from Harvard University in 1968.
 
Julian was Chairman of the Department of General Education at Boston University until 1980 when he left the academic community to pursue his growing interest in art. He purchased Tree’s Place in Orleans in 1981 and transformed it into one of the nation’s leading galleries of representational art.
After his retirement, Julian served on the Board of Trustees of the Cape Cod Symphony, and of the Cape Cod Art Association. He was a member of the St. Botolph Club in Boston and served on its Art Committee. He was a member of Artists for Humanity/Boston and served on their Advisory Board.
Julian is survived by his loving wife of thirty years, Elaine, his brother, Stephen, of New Braunfels, TX; his nephews Timothy Baird, of Richmond, VA; and Christopher Teitleman of Newton, MA; his nieces Lisa Gilbert, of Southlake, TX; and Beth Maly of San Francisco; and several grandnieces and grandnephews.
 
Memorial donations may be made to the Cape Cod Symphony or to the Animal Rescue League of Brewster.

 For his 75th birthday, Julian Baird sent out an unusual invitation. 

"As you now know, I have been diagnosed with Leukemia with an indeterminate life expectancy. HOWEVER, I shall certainly live to see my 75th Birthday and perhaps another beyond that. But I have decided that 75 is a big deal. It is a very respectable age to have lived the very full life that I have had to date. I have decided that I do not wish to be toasted after I am gone, but rather be roasted at a wonderful party that I can personally enjoy and attend while I am still with us all. So you are invited to a helluva big event on the Sunday when you and many others that I am inviting can come. Chamber music by members of the Cape Cod Symphony Orchestra (piano and musical programming by our Cape Cod Conservatory Director Stephanie Weaver.) Jazz group by CCSO members. And for a special treat, some music by James Montgomery and his lead guitarist of the James Montgomery Blues Band (Jimmy is a much beloved former student of mine in my old B.U. teaching days.) A delicious New England themed buffet dinner, and after everyone is seated with this and has been suitably satiated, a little roasting of Julian (hopefully reasonably benign) by persons representing important times and favored activities of my life so far. There is a dance floor, and music, dancing and libations will be available until the Cape Codder Resort will close us down. I suspect that none of us will last that long, but it will be there for anyone who wishes. I am expecting well over 100 friends at this, so you never know. So I am delighted that you can join me for my 75th Birthday Bash!!! No gifts -- just your presence. Julian"

I met the one and only Julian Baird my freshman year at Boston University. He was teaching Humanities at DGE. Coming from a small town in Texas, Julian had gone to Harvard on a scholarship, then to Oxford and finally returned to Harvard for his graduate work - all on scholarships. To say he was bright, a genius, is to not really encompass the concept. Then after the politics of John Silber, the new BU President, Julian left academia and decided to buy an art gallery/knickknack store in Orleans MA. Based on his gift for understanding art, and understanding how to communicate it - he became one of the most successful dealers on the Cape, and as you'll hear in this loving testament, changed the lives of those who came into his orbit.

When I got the invite, I asked if he had anyone recording the event for posterity. Apologies for sound and lighting, this was done on the fly, and is labeled "Part One" because I got an extended interview with him the following day that covers everything, from Greek History to Beowulf, from his journey from Texas to the hallowed halls of Harvard, from his coin flip to decide whether to go to Yale or Harvard to becoming one of the most beloved people on Cape Cod. So this is just a taste of Julian Baird... https://youtu.be/xfUnLFkk5Uo

And in case you missed it:  Part One


PART ONE OF A PORTRAIT OF JULIAN BAIRD

One final note.  And it's a personal one.  

After he was my teacher, I used to write Julian postcards from various places I went. I went to school in Rome, traveled Europe, and I'd always send him a funny postcard. This kept on until the mid-1980's, until one day I got a postcard from his ex-wife, who wrote "Sorry. Julian died of brain cancer. Please stop writing."

I was devastated.  I called some friends who knew him and told them - Julian had died.  We all mourned him, the greatest professor we ever had.  But he wasn't dead.  It was just that NASTY SOB EX WIFE OF HIS who shall remain nameless, who had the insane idea to WRITE ME THAT TRAGIC POSTCARD.  

Honestly if I could do something to let her know how cruel and stupid and inhuman that was - I would.  But about four years ago, I was still thinking of Julian - some 30 years after I'd been told he was dead - and I wondered if anyone had made a memorial page for him on Facebook.  And there he was, smiling, playing with his dog.  And I wrote whoever had created this page - and asked - who are you?  And he said "Hi Richard, how are you, it's Julian!"

I could not get over it - this ex wife robbed me of 30 years of his wit and knowledge and humor.  For no reason other than cruel spite - she was in the midst of a nasty divorce with him - but allowed her cruelty to spill over and onto me.  

Like a cesspool overflowing, and dumping some of its detritus onto an innocent person who happened to be walking by. I bite my thumb at her, I flick my thumb at her from the bottom of my tooth, I give her a fisted salute, and as many middle fingers as I can muster. (Last time I looked, I only have two.)

My travels to Tibet and India - I learned how people stew in their own juices - and as the Dalai Lama said "Anger would be useful if it made the other person sick that you're angry at.  It only serves to make you sick."  And "You can't control how other people behave but you can control how you react to them."

So, I'll react by saying, if I hadn't been so royally dissed by this anonymous woman, I never would have made these two portraits of Julian.  Combined, they're four hours of his wit and wisdom - either folks talking about him, or Julian talking about his life.  He's candid, funny, and completely open. I'm only sorry I lost 30 years of this lifetime of learning from him. Like losing the greatest Lama in the world, only to find out he went into a cave for 30 years.

The other night, after hearing of his death, about 3 in the morning, I was awoken by a dog's squeaky toy.  I don't own a squeaky toy. (It's a unique sound, and if you've heard it before, you know what I'm talking about.) We don't have a dog, and we have no dogs in our building.  I'm up on the top floor of a building with 7 floors, so the likelihood of having a dog's squeaky toy chirp in the middle of the night to wake me up is... well pretty remote.  I then thought "Hmm, I wonder if Julian had a dog and this is his sense of humor from the Flipside..." and then remembered that he did have one, and has a number of pictures alongside that dog.

I can't say that the squeaky toy was Julian waking me up with a laugh, but I wouldn't put it past him.  As he used to say "I'd agree with you, but then both of us would be wrong."

RIP Julian!