Welcome to The Mystical Underground

 We have a lot of grocery stores in our town. Publix, a chain, is the closest to our  house and is where I usually shop. It’s where I met a Cuban woman, Marina, who bags groceries.

In Cuba, Marina was an emergency room physician, a woman accustomed to dealing with a crisis rapidly, efficiently. She made a good living, her mother and sister lived nearby, but life was never easy.  In the 1990s when the lottery opened up for Cuban residents to immigrate to the U.S., she tossed in her and her husband’s names. And then she lit a candle to St. Jude, the Catholic patron saint of desperate cases and lost causes.

St. Jude’s day – October 28 – is widely celebrated in Cuba. Candles are lit, prayers are uttered, meals are dedicated to him. For days and weeks and months, Marina supplicated St. Jude to let her and her husband’s names be drawn in the lottery. And when her name was drawn, she felt certain that St. Jude had intervened on her behalf.

This is the sort of stuff Marina and I talk about in the Publix parking lot, while we’re unloading my groceries from the cart and putting them in the trunk of my car. During our last conversation about St. Jude, she told me that Publix carries St. Jude candles, with the prayer written in Spanish on the back. I said I would buy one and light it for her sister, who is undergoing treatment for leukemia.

Around this same time, Jane Clifford, a healer in Wales, wrote that she had invoked St. Jude on several occasions and the saint always had come through for her. In one instance when her son was younger, she needed a lot of money for Harry’s tuition – more than 30,000 pounds – and it had come through.

 I began to think about this, about St Jude’s name appearing twice in a short period of time, and knew that if there was a third occurrence, it would count as a cluster synchro and I’d better pay close attention. Sure enough, mid-October rolled around. My friend Hilary arrived for a week of intense writing, in which we intended to finish a screenplay for my novel Ghost Key, that we started last spring. We put in more than 70 hours, with a break for a couple of dinners out and a trip one afternoon to a hair salon.

During that drive to the salon, we talked about philosophy, UFOs, metaphysical belief systems. Hilary is a Hemingway, the niece of Ernest, and she wrote a screenplay with Andy Garcia about Hemingway’s last days in Cuba that will go into production next spring. She’s married to Jeff Lindsay, the creator and author of the  Dexter books. Before Dexter, they were struggling as writers. So I said, “For your lives to have changed so radically, there had to be a dramatic change in your beliefs. What was it?”

She thought for a moment, then said, “I can think of only two things. We went to Key West one weekend and there’s this big ceiba tree  where people write down their wishes and places them in the gigantic roots. I wrote my wishes for Jeff, that his new book would sell and succeed  separate from anything Hemingway. The other thing was that Jeff lit a candle in honor of St. Jude and kept it lit for a year.”

Bingo. Three references, a cluster synchro.

As a long lapsed Catholic, the only thing I find seductive about the Catholic church and its beliefs is the mystical element – the belief that certain things are powerful.  It’s no different than a belief  in a particular nutritional program that will help you lose weight or a belief in lucky numbers that will attract your soul mate. Belief, it all boils down to belief. This type of thinking is often referred to as magical – and usually in a disparaging way – but I figure, well, why not? What do I have to lose? Yet, we aren’t in desperate straits, its not as if one of us is dying of some terrible disease or that we’re going to lose our house tomorrow. But, why not? Why not?

We have a number of pending projects, so today I wandered over to Publix to find the St. Jude candle. There weren’t any. I could have made the hike to a botanica in downtown West Palm Beach, a shop that stocks all the tools uses in Santeria, a Cuban-mystical religion. I knew it would have the candles. But I realized the power of St. Jude lies in the ritual, the lighting of the candle, the invocation, the intent of the person who is asking for intervention. So I bought this beautifully scented candle that is probably used in the rooms of model homes.

During checkout the cashier sniffed it. The person bagging my groceries sniffed it. The customer in front of me took a whiff. All of them approved. Sniff, sniff, nod, nod, very nice.  Yeah, it was a weird moment.

When I got home, Rob had already looked up prayers for St. Jude, which were too overtly religious for us. So we made up our own invocation.

Stay tuned.

Before you look at the video, read this trickster story!

We received an interesting email from Randall Acord, who heard us on George Noory’s Coast to Coast last February, on the day that Aliens in the Backyard was released. Randall asked if he could share some of his synchronicity stories, so here’s a good one that has the trickster’s fingerprints all over it:

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 I had borrowed my mother’s car and was calling her to let her know I was coming over to return it. She asked if I would take it by a garage and have a new universal belt put on it.

I told her that I’d be glad to, but I really didn’t think that a car that new should be needing a new belt this early and in fact, the garage was probably just trying to invent some business. I went on to tell her that my car had twice the mileage and never had a new belt. And what was their reasoning that it even needed replaced,  anyway?

She reluctantly agreed to put it off and I proceeded to return her car. My wife was to drive her car and I would follow her and bring her back in our car. But  as she was pulling out I discovered that my car, even though it started and as in gear, would not move. I got out, motioned my wife back and proceeded inside to call my mother to inform her of the delay.

As I got out of my car, I nearly tripped over…..you guessed it- MY universal belt, lying on the ground. I’m still not sure whether this was synchronicity or the power of a mother, thinking I just didn’t want to take the time to change hers!

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Now take look at the video!

This little girl – 9 years old, 4th grade in the U.S. – is simply awesome. Is it a past-life talent? Does that even matter?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VBMfgLvRZJs#t=53

If this is not a hoax, then it is an incredible video. The text below appeared on Kate Valentine’s UFO site.

turkey-ufo-clearly-shows-aliens

Like The Exorcist, the legendary Poltergeist movies are a part of popular culture—at least the creepy side of it and some weird synchros were involved before, during and after the filming.

The simple phrase: “The-e-e-y’re here,” instantly reminds us of the creepy scene in which the little girl, Carol Anne Freeling,is abducted by evil spirits in the TV.

In the pool scene, the skeletons that emerge from the muddy water were real. JoBeth Williams was unaware of this until the scene had already been filmed. Director William Friedkin felt somewhat uneasy about the matter and possibly sensing what was coming, asked technical advisor Reverend Thomas Bermingham to exorcise the set. He gave a blessing and talked to the cast and crew to reassure them, but refused to perform an exorcism, saying it might increase anxiety.

 The presence of real skeletons on the set might’ve been a premonition of strange events related to the movie, including multiple deaths, including the two young actresses who played sisters.

 Julian Beck, who played the bad spirit’ in Poltergeist II, died of stomach cancer in 1985.  Two years later, Will Sampson who played the ‘good spirit’ in Poltergeist II, died after receiving a heart-lung transplant. Will was also known as the tall ‘mute’ Indian in One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest.

 The two men had medical conditions, so their deaths aren’t nearly as strange as the  deaths of the two girls. Dominique Dunn, who played the older sister in the first Poltergeist movie, was strangled by her ex-lover shortly after the release of the first movie in 1982. Six years later, Heather O’Rourke, who played the little girl Carol Anne in all three movies, died of congenital intestinal stenosis at the age of 12. She was on a break from filming Poltergeist III at the time and a replacement was used in parts of the film.Ironically, Dominique Dunn and Heather O’Rourke, the on-screen sisters, are buried in the same cemetery.

 The Omen,  a classic horror film about the devil’s offspring, might be the most cursed film of the genre. Before and during the filming, there were many…omens.

 A series of peculiar accidents plagued the cast, crew and even people loosely connected to the film. The strange occurrences began with a series of unlikely lightning strikes.

 Before filming began, the plane carrying novelist and screenwriter David Seltzer was struck by lightning, and he was lucky he survived. In another electrifying incident, a plane transporting the film’s star, Gregory Peck, was also struck by lightning. The pilot managed to land the plane safely and nobody was hurt. During filming in Rome, a bolt of lightning narrowly missed producer Harvey Bernhard.

Peck had another close brush with death during the filming, when he cancelled a trip to Israel that crashed and killing all onboard. With all the strange happenings, it was a wonder that Peck decided to continue on with the project.

It’s also surprising that director Richard Donner didn’t walk away from The Omen when he was hit by a car, and stayed at a hotel that was bombed by the IRA. In a separate vehicle related incident, a number of crew members were nearly killed on the first day of shooting in a head-on car crash.

As another omen, the poster for the movie depicted the silhouette of a boy with a wolf-like shadow. The movie title was above and below the image were the words: YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

With The Crow, Tragedy and irony, as well as mystery and intrigue, overtook the plot maneuvers of this comic book adaptation when real life and fiction collided head-on in the making of this cult classic. The film’s star, Brandon Lee, was accidentally shot and killed with a life bullet in a scene in which he was to be murdered, and his death led to rumors of an actual murder.

Like The Omen, the production was cursed from day one of shooting, Feb. 1, 1993, when a carpenter was badly shocked and burned after a lift he was operating struck high-voltage power cables. Other incidents included a grip truck catching fire, a stuntman falling through the roof of one of the sets, a handyman crashing his car through the studio’s plaster shop, and a member of the crew accidentally stabbing a screwdriver through his hand. Six weeks into the shoot, a powerful storm destroyed a number of elaborate set pieces that delayed the shooting schedule.

Somehow, the production finally wrapped. As a result of the tragedy and mystery surrounding the making of The Crow, the film stood out from the plethora of horror films and led to its cult status.

Weird synchros all the way around!

We’ve written about mirror gazing previously, but since today is Halloween, we decided today to put up a short excerpt on the subject from our new book, The Synchronicity Highway: Exploring Coincidence, the Paranormal & Alien Contact. Now where else are you going to read about the history of mirror gazing?

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In the 16^th century, John Dee, a famed English mathematician, astronomer and astrologer, used an Aztec mirror to make contact with the dead. Dee studied alchemy and divination while straddling the worlds of science and magic, and made extensive use of his mirror while pursuing his occult interests. He was also the official scryer or crystal gazer for Queen Elizabeth I.

The black mirror, made of highly-polished obsidian, was brought to Europe after the conquest of Mexico by Cortés between 1527 and 1530. Mirrors in Mexico were associated with Tezcatlipoca, the dark god of war and sorcery, whose name can be translated as ‘Smoking Mirror.’ Aztec priests used mirrors for divination and conjuring visions.

No doubt Dee was knowledgeable about the Greek’s use of psychomanteum, or mirror-gazing and that added to his fascination with the Aztec mirror. Among the ancient Greeks, mirror-gazing was a well known means of reaching out to ancestors for guidance. This method frequently involved the use of a dimly lit isolated room with a mirror or reflective surface, such as a pool of water.

You’ve probably heard about the famed Oracle of Delphi, where ancient Greeks journeyed to hear prophecies from a priestess serving as the oracle. Lesser known is the Oracle of the Dead, a site in northwest Greece that pilgrims visited to contact the dead and learn of their future. Built in the third century BC, the Oracle of the Dead included a complex of underground passageways and isolation cells. It was the ancient Greek’s premier psychomanteum, and was also known as The Necromanteion of Ephyra. Pilgrims, who were placed in the cells, fasted and underwent sensory deprivation, exhaustion and disorientation — all designed to create an environment to induce visions. They also wandered through dark passageways and a stone labyrinth.

After several days or weeks, pilgrims were ready to meet the souls of the dead. They descended to the Sacred Hall in an underground cavern where they were given hallucinogenic leaves or seeds to chew. The pilgrims then gazed into a large copper cauldron filled with water, where they saw visions of the dead in the dark, reflective surface. In their heightened state, it was said that dead friends and relatives sometimes even emerged from the reflective cauldron and appeared as if they were physical beings.

Very little was known about the Greek psychomanteums until 1958 when archaeologist Sotirios Dakaris and his team uncovered a series of small underground rooms connected by a passageway that led to the main chamber where they found the remains of a large copper cauldron ringed with a banister. They had discovered the Oracle of the Dead, spoken of by Homer and Herodotus.

Raymond Moody’s Psychomanteum

One psychomanteum was created in the late 20^th century by psychiatrist Raymond Moody. Years after he wrote Life After Life, the classic book on near-death experiences, he wanted to find a way that anyone could connect with the afterlife without having to die briefly and be revived.

Moody, a scholar of ancient Greece, eventually found his answer when he read the Greek magical papyri–scrolls of magical recipes found in Egypt, but written in Greek. By following the instruction of the magical papyri in a facility designed for just this purpose, he had created a modern psychomanteum in the style of the ancient Greeks.

He named his psychomanteum the John Dee Theater of the Mind, and began looking for people willing to step into his ‘apparition booth.’ His goal was to answer the question: Can apparitions of deceased loved ones make themselves known in a controlled environment to normal, healthy people?

In preparation, he would spend hours with a patient, discussing the loved one they wanted to encounter. Then he would escort the person into his mirror-gazing booth and turn on a light that was about as bright as a single candle. He would tell the patient to relax, gaze deeply into the mirror, and think only of the one he wanted to see. They would remain in the booth for as long as they liked and Moody would discuss the experience with the patient afterward.

He was surprised that five of his first ten subjects saw and communicated with an apparition, and all five believed that they had actually connected with a deceased loved one. He had expected only one or two would report contact and figured they would have doubts about the reality of the contact.

His first subject, a 44-year-old nurse whose husband had died two years earlier, made contact, but not in the way that she or Moody had expected. They had talked for hours about her late husband. But when she emerged from the booth, her expression was puzzled.  She had made contact, but with her father, not her husband. She was stunned by the experience, because he had actually come out of the mirror to talk to her.

In all, Moody led 300 subjects into the psychomanteum for his mirror-gazing experiment that he wrote about in his book, Reunions. He viewed the room as a therapeutic tool to heal grief and bring insight into the continuity of life.

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Happy Hollow’s Eve to all. This is when the veil between the world of the living and the dead is the thinnest.

Time is what we don’t seem to have enough of.

Time is what we see when we look in the mirror and still remember ourselves at five, at 15, at 30, 50, 60.

Time is what marches on with or without us.

Time is the way we measure our lives.

Time is fleeting, mercurial.

Time is what we see when we look at our children.

Time – and its passage – is what we see when we look at the history of our lives.

And time may be the ultimate trickster. 

Recently, Ekaterina Moreva at the Istituto Nazionale di Ricerca Metrologica (INRIM) in Turin, Italy, and a few science buddies have proved : “Time is an emergent phenomenon that is a side effect of quantum entanglement.”

 Entanglement is a seductive word. And it’s a complex idea. Here’s the Wikipedia version: My version is simpler: everything  and everyone in the universe is connected.

 Einstein referred to it as “spooky action at a distance.” Entangled particles remain connected so that actions performed on one affect the other, even when separated by great distances.  It’s why identical twins, even those separated at birth, share such eerie parallels in their lives. It’s why you feel your partner’s pain and triumphs, why you often know what your animal companion is feeling, why you sense a weather phenomenon in your area before it occurs.

Could synchronicity lie at the heart of quantum entanglement? Could it be the interface, the juncture where we drawn into entanglement? Where the voice we hear is not our own? Where we are inducted into a grand quantum experiment? Where we are warned, informed, illuminated? Could synchronicity be the missing quantum piece?

I grasp these ideas in an intuitive, abstract sense, but am woefully short on the science end of this. And yet. Synchronicity seems to exist along some human, equal opportunity border where you don’t have to be an Einstein to recognize it or a Carl Jung to explore it. The phenomenon occurs across the spectrum of human experience and may well be our compass through life, the karass Vonnegut referred to in Cat’s Cradle,  an intimate part of the entanglement that bewilders physicists, and the seemingly miraculous that captivates the rest of us.

Marker 239 belongs on the Synchronicity Highway! I ran across it in Mysteries of the Unexplained. There’re a few places on the Internet, too, that recount this story. Here are the details…

Late in the summer of 1929, a new highway was opened in Germany. It connected the cities of Bremen and Bremerhaven. Within a year, more than 100 cars had crashed on the highway – all of them at kilometer marker 239, on a stretch of road that was ruler straight.

When survivors were questioned by the police, they described feeling “a tremendous thrill” as their cars reached the marker. They claimed that some great force seized their vehicles and pulled them off the road. On September 7, 1930, nine cars were wrecked at the marker.

Investigators, of course, were bewildered. But Carl Wehrs, a  local dowser, suggested that the mysterious force was a powerful magnetic current generated by an underground stream.  To test his theory, he used a divining rod and slowly walked toward marker 239. When he was about 12 feet away and directly opposite the marker, the rod flew out of his hands and he was spun around.

Convinced his theory was correct, Wehrs found a solution to the problem. He buried a copper box filled with small, star-shaped pieces of copper at the base of the stone marker. For a week, the box stayed where he’d buried it and during this time, there wasn’t a single accident.

Then the box was dug up  and the first three cars that passed the marker were wrecked. The box was quickly reburied and since then, there supposedly haven’t been any accidents at marker 239.

Local farmers believed that a devil was responsible for the accidents. They claimed that after it had been exorcised from the road, it entered their radios, which then produced nothing but static.

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I Googled whether marker 239 has been accident free since 1930 but couldn’t find anything. If anyone else knows, let us know!