Neil Armstrong
Neil Alden Armstrong (August 5, 1930 – August 25, 2012) was an American astronaut, aeronautical engineer, naval aviator, test pilot and university professor. He was the first person to walk on the Moon.
via Regina Ochoa, September 2, 2020
"I am alive! Really alive!"
"My transition was the greatest journey of my life. I saw the deep of space -- That dark, impenetrable, open, beautiful, incredible space. ... I could feel such relief within me. Once filled with loss and longing ... my lifetime of sadness is now instantly replaced with lightness and an indescribable awareness."
I've been studying this phenomenon called channeling as I've watched Edgar [Mitchell] bring his messages through an assortment of psychics. Some he knew before transitioning over and some he learned from other members of this elite team of communicators (on both sides of earth's veil).
I haven't done this before. Only watched from a distance. I never felt any need to communicate "back to earth."
I laugh at myself, too; I was thinking of the movie "ET." You know, the part where he says, 'Phone home." Yeah, not me. I was done with the earth. Well, at least I thought I was. That feeling lasted a short moment in time. (I'm using linear time here.)
You know, I understood time was non-linear. My dear friend Richard Feynman and I would have lengthy phone visits about how time did not exist. I missed his thinking after he died. He is a brilliant individual who brought so many possibilities of thought forward, with the science to back it. I often referred to his formulations when teaching. I felt his words echo in me when I needed to explain his concepts to my students. Richard opened the doors for so many who feared to give credence to such possibilities as quantum theory. He and I continue to break ground in our lessons of creation. But now we are both the students, with many other scientists who dare tread on the "norm of impossibilities."
"Probabilities" are how we refer to nearly every scientific "impossibility" shooting past us. For every thought, there are probable manifestations somewhere in the Expanse. You see, the best part of being alive without a physical body is that each of us can explore without limitations.
All instruction arrives to us through the exploration and the adventure of learning what it is to BE -- to Be Alive.
For example, when we live in a physical form, we adhere to rules and guidelines that create limitations. We choose to exist in the human body to understand how to maneuver in this structure. Yep, this is one of life's answers to "Why are we here?"
Now I see a great many of you earthbound readers rolling your eyes behind my back as I turn to the blackboard. I can hear your thoughts, yes, I really can, as you say, "Get a load of this guy, he thinks he has an answer to one of life's greatest questions!"
Think about it.
Why are we here?
What is our purpose?
Why and purpose have very different answers.
Put those into your thinking caps and see what you can scramble up.
These are the types of questions we continue to ask even on this side of physical mass. (I'll be back at another time to share more about this.)
You see, there is no one simple answer to any question, as it depends on "where you are." I exist in a non-physical form of energy, yet I can visualize conditions that provide comfort or challenges. I can surround myself with individuals who share similar thoughts or creations, such as nature or atmosphere, similar to what provided comfort for me in my most recent energy form, i.e., the body of Neil Armstrong.
I can create my favorite place in Wisconsin, where I fished for muskie. I can hold my [first] wife Janet in my arms now, without pain from the loss of our baby girl coming between us.
This brings me to one of the reasons I am creating this message. I want to let both our sons Eric and Mark know that their baby sister, our "Muffy," is with us, too. Yes, she came to me at my bedside when I was passing.
I thought I must be imagining her in my hospital room, and she said, "Dad, it's me, your Muffy. I'm right here, waiting. I will stay with you so you won't be afraid to die."
Our Muffy -- my Karen -- is full-grown, I thought, in disbelief.
I know my [second] wife Carol, and both Mark and Eric were there, but Karen was there too. She was standing right next to the boys. I could see her.
Seeing and hearing Karen, knowing she is here and alive, was what I needed in order to depart. I was ready. It was painless, too. But that may have been because of all the drugs they had me on from my surgery. I had a difficult time holding onto any part of myself after my coronary bypass. Medical mistakes happened, and then there were all the fears. I could feel my family's fear. My post-op process caused so much pain in them that all I felt was their fear.
I knew fear well. It crept into our lives when we watched our beautiful Muffy slip away. I feared losing her. I feared for her pain and her death. I feared I would never hold her again. And then she died. All those years of carrying that fear of never seeing her were buried deep within me. Fear drove pain and sorrow into our family.
Now, my family, my sons and my grandchildren feared losing me. Lying in the hospital bed I saw what fear had done to me. I was holding onto my family as much as they held on to me. I was trying to stay for them, but I was tired and wanted to be free. I didn't want to hold on any longer.
Karen said, "Are you ready?"
"Yes," I said, "Let's go."
Karen stepped forward and touched my heart.
It stopped. And that was it.
She said," Come with me, Dad."
I turned back to see my family crying, praying a bit too. "I'm sorry," I said to Carol. "I love you."
My transition was the greatest journey of my life. I saw the deep of space -- That dark, impenetrable, open, beautiful, incredible space. Karen was not there, but calm and peace were. I could feel such relief within me. Once filled with loss and longing for my baby girl, my lifetime of sadness is now instantly replaced with lightness and an indescribable awareness.
Karen is alive! I am alive! Really alive!
I suddenly felt a pulsing surge of energy flow through me. Though my physical heart had stopped, I could now feel it, as if it beat for the first time.
"How am I alive, yet dead?"
"Oh, Dad," Karen said from out there, beyond, "You never die."
In that instant, in a place where time ceases to exist, I found life.
Neil Armstrong.