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a pre-COSMIC RELIEF offering . . . Quantum Leech |
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Note from Connie: "Trevor" is a composite figure based upon several of my New Age compadres. All of the conversations in this essay have actually taken place. Originally published under the title, "Quantum Confusion, or Trevor's Travail" in Skeptical Inquirer (Winter 1992) Copyright © 1992 by Connie L. Schmidt |
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| I have a friend - let's call
him Trevor. He confessed to me one day that he had tried
to date-rape his own anima, and he'd slapped his inner
child around too because the kid wouldn't stop whining. "But it turns out that none of this was my fault," Trevor explained. "I went to a hypnotherapist, who regressed me and we found out that in every one of my lifetimes, including the present one, I've been disempowered by a dysfunctional, abusive family, and that I've been further disenfranchised by the mechanistic Western worldview of modern science." "Yeah, there's a lot of that going around," I said sympathetically. |
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Around the same time that Trevor visited the therapist, he read a book called Currents of Death, which he picked up because he's a sailing buff and he thought the book was a tale of tragedy at sea. But instead it turned out to be an exposé of the sinister phenomenon of electro-pollution (knowledge of which Big Business is conspiring to keep from us, of course). Now he credits the book with saving his life, and he further credits Divine Guidance for making him pick up the book by mistake. "Wow, talk about synchronicity," he said to me in a reverent whisper. | |||||
| The book helped him realize
that he had been virtually incapacitated by continuous
exposure to low-level electromagnetic fields, which
reversed his bio-polarities and created an imbalance in
his chakras. "So I finally decided to take back my
power," he declared. "What do you mean?" I asked, puzzled. "I thought power lines and such were the problem in the first place." "No, I mean my intrinsic power to manifest my own wellness," he said. First he got rid of his computer and his television and his microwave oven. And then he quit his job, and sued his former employer for exposing him to all that office-equipment radiation. He tried to make a living as an Intuitive Counselor, which didn't net him much money. But, he says, "I'm comfortable with that. I'm at peace with it. The incredible thing is that I've learned how to draw on the natural altruism of others." Altruism, in this case, translates into a lot of free stuff for Trevor. People give him food and clothes and a place to stay, and in return he gives them a free "Reading," for which he would normally charge $150.00 for a 30-minute session. Matter of fact, Trevor's little New Age clique is creating its own cashless society, a world of trade-offs in which the currency consists of "Treatments" or "Readings." "Do Treatments and Readings pay the utility bills?" I asked Trevor. He laughed gently. "Oh, Connie, you're so mundane sometimes," he said. "My friends and I have learned to trust that the Universe will support us, and it does." Anyway, after all those years of exposing himself to the hazards of making a legitimate living, Trevor needed to get his energies cleared and balanced. "So I began to undergo intensive bodywork therapy which included crystal healing, various vibrational techniques, cranial-sacral optimization and oversoul energy transfer," he said. "Oh, yeah, and colonic irrigation too." But he still had work to do on his psyche. "Fortunately I was guided to a 12-step program, where I came into contact with others who suffered from the same disorder I had." Having been over the 12-step route myself, I'm pretty familiar with this sort of disorder; it's a type of emotional binge-purge syndrome which causes its sufferers to stuff themselves for hours on clichés and other folks' tales of abuse, after which they vomit up their own tales of abuse and even more clichés. "The Program," as Trevor learned to dutifully call it, was very helpful, and each morning and evening he got down on his knees and thanked a Power greater than himself for it. But he almost contracted lung cancer by breathing all the secondhand smoke in the 12-step meeting room, so he bought a subliminal tape which helped him create affirmations to negate the effects of the cigarette smoke. Proceeds for the sale of the tape, he told me, went to an organization that saves rain forest dolphins from post-traumatic stress syndrome, or something like that. At any rate, it's a real good cause. |
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But the turning point for Trevor was when he went to Boulder, Colorado for a week-long motivational seminar on Optimal Mindfulness - or maybe it was Networking Excellence. Anyway, during that seminar he had a vision which prompted him to embark on a shamanistic journey into the Southwestern desert, where he met up with the hero within, who beat the hell out of him. But after that they went out for drinks and his hero led him to a larger awareness of transpersonal realities, and then Trevor went on one of those Men's Weekends and discovered his own inner wild man, who, as it happens, is naked. | |||||
| Now my friend is a new
person, or group of people, one of whom better be careful
lest he get arrested for indecent exposure. I'd keep the
wild man away from the inner child, too, just to be safe;
I can't help remembering the cockpit scene, with the
pilot and the little boy, in the movie Airplane. Anyhow, Trevor is grateful to have experienced, as he so eloquently puts it, "the healing and transformative powers that can only come with the emerging paradigm of global mind change and quantum consciousness" (I couldn't have put it better myself). And now my friend Trevor, this survivor of a toxic childhood, this adult child of an alcoholic absent father - is doing his dream and writing a book about it, from which he plans to create - yes, you guessed it - a seminar. We were talking about all this, and he told me what a good friend I've been to him, and what a highly evolved being he senses I am - and then he looked at me for a long, intense moment and said, "Connie, thank you for being in the Universe." I lowered my eyes and said modestly, "Really, it was nothing. I know you'd do the same for me." Trevor is doing okay these days, his only problem being that while trying to create his own reality, he ended up making a big mess, the way he does with all his home projects, and he still had to call in a professional. While Trevor has been doing all his personal growth work, I've been dealing with my own inner turmoil. Trevor told me I should figure out what my core issues are, and then ask the Universe for guidance. I said, "Oh, but I couldn't. I get shy speaking before a crowd." One of the things I'm worried about is what I'm going to do next January 11. In case you don't know the significance of January 11, that's when the Universe will be expanding into dimensions never before experienced; I read this in one of those magazines that uses words like "positive" and "healthy" and "inspire" in its Statement of Purpose, so I know it's true. Anyway, according to this magazine, on January 11 all individuals who have sufficiently attuned themselves to a clear and focused mindset will have the opportunity to experience the seventh dimension. I don't think this necessarily means they'll be spirited away (so to speak), or if they are, I doubt if it will be anything permanent; probably it'll just be a day trip. They'll be back in time for supper. Maybe it's like a Rapture Lite. Trevor says he's "psyched and ready." As for me, I'm getting the hell out of the way. I'm running for cover, the way I did during the Harmonic Convergence when I stayed in my office, crouching under my desk next to the laser printer and soaking in low-level radiation until it was all over. Seventh dimension? No, thanks. I have enough work to do screwing things up in just three dimensions. Clip art by Task Force Really Big Edition © New Vision Technologies, Inc. |
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Take me back to the Cosmic Relief "Samples" Contents Page. Take me back to the Cosmic Relief Contents Page. |
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