The Sidhe and the Guardian Exercise

Printed in the Fall 2013 issue of Quest magazine.
Citation: Spangler, David. "The Sidhe and the Guardian Exercise" Quest  101. 4 (Fall 2013): pg. 148-151.

By David Spangler

Theosophical Society - David Spangler has been a spiritual teacher since 1964. From 1970 to 1973 he was codirector of the Findhorn Foundation Community. He is a cofounder of the Lorian Association, a spiritual educational foundation, and a director of the Lorian Center for Incarnational Spirituality. His work involves enabling individuals to embody the innate spirituality of their incarnations. He is the author of Apprenticed to Spirit; Subtle Worlds: An Explorer's Field Notes; and Facing the Future. He also writes and publishes a quarterly esoteric journal entitled Views from the BorderlandAll of my life I've been aware of the nonphysical realms and the beings that inhabit them. For years I've thought of myself as an explorer of these realms, a kind of "naturalist" of the subtle worlds.In my work, I have long been in collaboration with subtle colleagues.

I mention this because in 2011, a different kind of collaboration began, one that was unique in my experience. In the spring of that year, I was contacted by a representative of the Sidhe (pronounced "shee"). According to my friend John Matthews, the British spiritual teacher, author, and expert on Celtic spirituality, Sidhe is the "oldest known name for the faery races of Ireland" and means the "people of peace" or the "people of the Hollow Hills."

The nature of this contact was different from anything I'd encountered before. While the three individualities who came to me—a female and two males—were nonphysical and invisible to ordinary sight, they did not at all feel like any subtle being I'd known. I later came to realize that these beings dwell in what might be thought of as a parallel dimension, not in the subtle worlds as such. They consider themselves our "cousins," and, as I understand it, share a common ancient ancestor with humanity.

For reasons too lengthy to go into here, these beings asked me and my colleague in the Lorian Association, Jeremy Berg, to create a deck of cards that could act as a point of contact with them. My task was to write the text material, and Jeremy's was to paint the pictures. In undertaking this project, we were given strict instructions. For instance, we were limited to thirty-three cards, no more and no less. We also could not depict the Sidhe themselves in any of the cards.

There were three reasons why they made this last request. The primary one is in order to prevent imposing a particular form either upon the Sidhe themselves or upon the imagination of a person using the cards. A second reason is that the Sidhe are protean beings,able within some limits to shape-shift or configure their appearance to meet the demands of a situation. And a third reason was that they are attempting to help us throw off older images of what they look like. This was confirmed for me later in a conversation with John Matthews. He said he'd had a recent Sidhe contact in which he was told to stop thinking of them in a medieval context, as if they were knights and ladies and beings of the past. "We are of the present and the future," he was told, and I have received similar messages as well since working on this deck.

The end result of this collaboration, The Card Deck of the Sidhe, is what I believe to be a very powerful tool that allows attunement to a related species of intelligence that shares this world with us and is concerned about earth's future. The deck can also be an oracular portal into a user's own intuition.

Once this project was finished and the deck published, I thought that this contact might end. As I said, it is very different from my usual inner work, and there are others, like John Matthews and the British occultist R.J. Stewart, who have much more experience in collaboration with the Sidhe than I. But in fact the contact has continued in a sporadic way.

I write a quarterly esoteric journal in which I share the field notes of my explorations into and work with the subtle realms. I call it Views from the Borderland, and it's available by subscription on the Lorian Website, www.Lorian.org. In addition to the printed journals, a subscriber also may take part in two online seminars with me in which the topics in the journals can be discussed, questions can be asked, and a group of likeminded seekers can temporarily form an online community for mutual support and conversation.

A year after the publication of the deck, I was working on an issue of the journal when I was contacted again by the same Sidhe trio. The results of that contact formed most of the field notes that went into that issue. When the subsequent online subscribers' forum took place, most of the discussion focused on the Sidhe and their relationship to us at a time of global environmental challenges. Towards the end of the week that we were online together, the Sidhe woman appeared and gave me an exercise that she said they would like people to try. "This is an experiment," she said, "but the intent is very real. We are seeking partners among your people willing to join us as guardians of the portals and pathways between our realm and yours, and between the spirit of Gaia and the physical world. We are seeking collaborators in a mission of fostering wholeness."

At her request, I gave this exercise to all the participants in the online forum. Many took up the offer to try it out, and many interesting, exciting, and inspirational experiences came out of it.

The Card Deck of the Sidhe is divided into two parts. One is a series of images of standing stones that can be arranged to form a stone circle. The other consists of images representing different aspects of the creative energy of the Sidhe (and of humanity as well) that weave in and out around the stones. Because many people in the forum had decks, I had them use them to create the stone circle, but as the exercise says, this isn't necessary, as it can all be done in your imagination.

Here is the exercise as it was given to me to offer to the forum. I offer it to you now, with blessings.

The Guardian Exercise

If you have a Sidhe Card deck, keep it handy, but don't use it to begin with. Its use comes later in the exercise. If you don't have a deck, you can do all the steps perfectly well in your imagination.

You begin by imagining yourself in front of an ancient stone circle, one that is rooted deep in the earth, the stones covered with moss and faint carvings. You can feel an energy radiating from it. Just as if you were going to enter someone's home, identify yourself and ask permission to step into the circle. Wait just a moment in silence, allowing yourself to be seen. The permission is granted.

Step into the circle. As you stand within it, surrounded by the presence of these ancient stones, it feels like you are in a great cauldron held by Gaia, the World Soul. Into this Grail have poured over the centuries energies of consciousness and life brought into this world across the threshold of this circle from sources distant and near: from stars, from the sun and moon, and from the deep fires of life within the heart of the earth. Although the cauldron is empty as you stand in it, you can sense the power of holding within this place. You can feel the Grail in your own heart and life—your own powers of holding—resonating with it. Take a moment just to go deeply into the felt sense of this circle cauldron.

Behind you and around you, felt but unseen, you sense the presence of the Guardians of this circle and of its powers, Guardians of all it contains and all it connects. These are the Sidhe, and they welcome you into this place and their presence. Take a moment to go deeply into the felt sense of their ancient lineage of protecting and caring for the life and presence of circles like this one.

You are now asked, "Will you share this guardianship with us? Will you take on the mantle we have worn? Will you be part of the lineage that guards the thresholds, opens the cauldrons of loving spirit, and releases new life into the world?" Take a moment to feel deeply and fully into what is being asked of you and what you think its implications may be for you personally in your life. How will you stand in this lineage, wear this mantle, and be a living circle/cauldron/Grail in your world? When you feel ready, you can say "yes" or "no."

A "no" will not disconnect you from the Sidhe or cast you out. It is simply a statement that you feel this is not your path or that the timing is not right or that you don't fully understand what a "yes" might mean or bring. A "no" is a statement of your sovereignty and is fully honored and blessed by the Sidhe. If you do say "no," then receive the blessing of the unseen Guardians and step out of the stone circle. You can always reenter at another time that may be more appropriate.

If you have said "no," take a moment to stand in your sovereignty, and then go about your business in your everyday world. The exercise is ended.

If you say "yes," then take a moment of silence standing in the circle among the Guardians, of whom you are now one. Be attentive in a calm way to anything that may occur or pass between the Sidhe and you.

You have always been a power of love and holding in the world and a threshold between the worlds. You have always been a Grail. Taking on the mantle of Guardianship which the Sidhe have offered only adds to what you already are, affirming it, anchoring it, giving it a new flavor and potential. Just what this means is what you will discover in your own unique way.

At this point, the stones in the circle begin to shimmer with light. They dissolve and flow joyously and easily into your heart. Take a moment to feel the presence of the circle shining within your being, your life, your heart. You are the circle, the portal, the cauldron, the Grail. You have always been these things, but now you engage with them in a new way that will unfold in the days and months and years ahead.

If you have the Sidhe Card deck, now is the time to lay out a Stone Circle with one of the cards, the Howe, in the middle. As you do so, see yourself externalizing the power of the circle into your life and world. The Stone Circle has transmigrated from the land to your life. You are a Guardian of its power and presence within your life.

If you do not have this deck, simply imagine standing stones flowing out from your heart to take shape around you. Take a moment to stand in the midst of the circle of your own life and feel what it means to you.

Now, with gratefulness to the Sidhe, to your own sacredness, to Gaia, and to the sacredness within all things, bring this exercise to a close. Stand in your sovereignty for a moment, and then go about your everyday business as a circle of light in your world.

David Spangler has been a spiritual teacher since 1964. From 1970 to 1973 he was codirector of the Findhorn Foundation Community. He is a cofounder of the Lorian Association, a spiritual educational foundation, and a director of the Lorian Center for Incarnational Spirituality. His work involves enabling individuals to embody the innate spirituality of their incarnations. He is the author of Apprenticed to Spirit; Subtle Worlds: An Explorer's Field Notes; and Facing the Future. He also writes and publishes a quarterly esoteric journal entitled Views from the Borderland, in which this exercise originally appeared. Information about his work can be found at www.Lorian.org.

Parallel Planes

Printed in the Fall 2013 issue of Quest magazine.
Citation: Gardner, Amy. "Parallel Planes" Quest  101. 4 (Fall 2013): pg. 145-147.

By Amy Gardner

Theosophical Society - Amy Gardner has a passion for exploring world religions, mythologies, and symbols. When she is not building, sculpting, and gardening, Amy makes her living as a writer.Being a new member of the Theosophical Society, I decide to take an introductory crash course in the astral dimension by studying C.W. Leadbeater's1906 lecture "The Reality of the Astral Plane" while waiting for a flight out of Dallas. Conveniently, someone on the Web provides the written transcript of the Leadbeater lecture online, and the Dallas—Fort Worth airport is an ideal field for exploring esoteric concepts..

Sitting in the boarding area for American flight 1507 to Albuquerque, eager to learn more about this real but impermanent dimension, I open my computer to start reading. Certain sentences catch my attention:

You all know from ancient teaching that there is an unseen world—that there is very much existing about us and acting about us all the time.

Committed to keeping my scientific laboratory immediate, I look around the terminal carefully. A woman next to the glass window is on her cell phone, frantically gesticulating. Beyond our glass enclosure distant workmen dig with their great earthmoving equipment to expand this tremendous airline travel port like some dock on an ocean of asphalt. A man practices a speech quietly to himself. I squint my eyes to block out the detail and scan this place for the unseen world. "Certainly each person here is in his or her own world," I think to myself.

Returning to my reading, I feel as though Leadbeater is imploring me to look more carefully:

The astral world is simply nothing but the continuation of the physical world in finer matter.

Along rows of leather and steel chairs, people gather around, most with fast food purchases made in kiosks in the terminal—McDonald's, Uno's Pizza, and Starbucks. An effervescent party is returning home from a weekend wedding in New York. Businesspeople are tapping away on their iPhones. Matter is everywhere, yet I do not see its metaphysical mystery.

While they may be there, no colorful orbs or energy emanations are visible to me. My eyes are blind to energetic distortions or pulsing light patterns. I decide to stretch my legs a bit and walk around to find some insight. The woman selling newspapers and candy in a brightly lit cubby looks tired. The shoe shine man laughs with a buddy about something meant for guys. The janitor leans heavily on his broom, polishing the long hall. Certainly these employees are in a different head space than I am with my research. But we look the same.

I notice how many people sleep here in DFW. Curled on a row of three chairs is a college student. She is probably traveling in the very place I am trying to understand, for Leadbeater tells me: 

Although we are living in the midst of the astral world at this moment, to most of us it is unreal because it is imperceptible. A few hours later we shall fall asleep, and . . . it will be from astral objects alone that we shall be able to receive vibrations.

The woman on the three chairs seems impervious to the metal edges on her imperfect bed, probably because she is flying around someplace remarkable. Maybe this traveler to dreamland will remember the astral plane, and maybe she will convey the experience upon waking. Maybe I should just take a nap and be more aware of my surroundings, for I sense that the nature of the place matters. I secretly wish for a teacher, a spirit of the astral dimension, a Master of Wisdom who can guide me.

As I roll my bag down this hall of learning, billboards and advertisements call out to me. I notice my hunger and thirst for consumables as well as an unnatural interest in leather cowboy chaps and fine jewelry. Having made my living in marketing, I recognize these tricks. Savvy marketers, governments, and corporations make millions by yoking human needs and archetypal longings to products and services. Today's magicians move us to buy false satisfiers to sooth our most profound yearnings. Certainly the desires of humans for love, sex, learning, community, autonomy, contribution, and more are vibrations that advertisers tune into.

Investigation shows us that among these higher vibrations are those caused by the desires and emotions of man, and such of his thoughts as are mingled with personal craving or feeling. It is found that such thoughts or emotions are outpourings of energy just as definite as electricity or steam.

Human needs, when harnessed, are an awesome power that can be directed toward selfish or altruistic aims. Consumer culture could be an illusion that comes from corporate manipulation of the astral plane for personal gain. Maybe this is my lesson in the dark side of the astral plane.

Returning to the gate, I intend to search the lecture again for some gem when my flight is announced. Loading my gear in the steerage section, I sit down and close off the outside world. Crammed into a space engineered for maximum profitability, I am not in the mood to chat with the man pressing upon my arm, so rather than use my mind, I decide to meditate—clear and let the insight come to me.

The captain informs us after the doors close that there is a maintenance problem. Only twenty minutes to wait, says the captain. After twenty minutes, the captain announces that the repair will require another twenty minutes. The tired passengers heave a collective outcry of despair. With closed eyes, I remember Leadbeater's teachings on emotional vibrations:

This astral world affects us because its vibrations have the same qualities as all other kinds of vibrations—they radiate in all directions, and they tend to reproduce themselves.

I feel some responsibility in meditation to practice centering. It cannot hurt anything to radiate a calming presence now.

If by emotion or passion you set up a vibration in astral matter, it acts in precisely the same way; and necessarily in its radiation it impinges upon the astral bodies of all those about you. If there be among them one which is in tune with that vibration, it will at once be excited to respond to it; that is to say, your emotion will be reproduced in that other man.

The passengers seem to calm down, and I get a sense that some sort of entrainment process has occurred with the energy in the cabin. There will be no mutiny tonight.

After a fifty-minute delay, about the limit of my meditative endurance, our plane is ready to depart. I open my eyes, and the man next to me asks gruffly, "Are you a Buddhist? My ex-wife was a Buddhist." The plane shifts and takes off.

My row mate has a long white beard and a fedora.  He has the faint smell of trunk-stored clothing.

"No," I respond quizzically. "I really haven't felt the need to pick a tradition—I kind of like to study them all. How about you?"

The old man replies, "I'm a SCIENTIST, a devout ATHEIST. I'm a WICCAN."

"Wow!" I gasp. Could this be the secret teacher I was wishing for earlier—an incarnation of Leadbeater or Olcott or one of the other bearded guys from Theosophy long ago? I was hoping for a teacher who would help me learn about the astral dimension. Suddenly this strange man appears, and I know (perhaps more than he) that my seatmate is a spirit from the astral plane. How fortuitous is this meeting! "A Wiccan," I repeat. "Do you know anything about the astral plane?"

"Oh, it's just a lot of nonsense about the spirit dimension," he says while I grin.

Coalman proceeds to tell me that he taught astronomy at the University of New Mexico until he found that he could no longer bear the barrage of student interest in astrology. He is now a self-confessed curmudgeon and official grouch. His main reason for disgust with the human race is that despite the overwhelming scientific evidence that global warming is happening, people will not face the gravity of the situation. We talk about new technologies and how people will respond when the crisis becomes personal.

"The crisis affects all of us and we are running out of time!" he vents.

"Yes sir," I agree.

"Humans are irrational!" he mutters grumpily.

"We would rather annihilate the planet than change our thinking," I chime in, sadly mourning the loss of green as the earth warms up.

"We are going the way of Venus," he declares.

"What happened to Venus?" I ask, zipping on over to the dusty orange planet in my imagination.

"Planetary warming!" Coalman bellows. "The planet was very similar to earth, then something happened. It heated up and the water evaporated."

"Where did the water go?" I ask, erroneously thinking 1that our blue planet is a closed system.

"It went into space—vast endless space. Those water atoms are out there in space."`

Suddenly my whole view of the universe changes. ``There in outer space, proven by science, is an entire ocean looking for a place to land. If little drops of blue water live in the endless black void, certainly green forests and colorful extinct species, not to mention all manner of ancestors and astral variants, are there too. Sure, they're hiding in nothingness, but the potential for manifestation is everywhere!

Coalman continues, "We have to deal with the global warming problem."

"Hmm, I have to agree, but haven't we had these floods before? Don't things function in cycles? Won't the ecosystem find a way to balance itself?" Then I talk about Nature's ability to wipe us out and start again: pandemics, antibiotic resistance, and the global food crisis. "And isn't there some intelligence to this universe? I mean, when I sit outside and a cat approaches a covey of quail, they all flush at once, scaring the predator away. Individually they have no ability to survive, but as a group they are intelligent."

"Oh, that's just evolution for survival," explains my sage.

"Well, what about the web of intelligence in an aspen forest, where each tree is really part of one underground root? And the web of intelligence in mushrooms—mycelium webs that cover entire states? And the web of intelligence in oceans, where whales communicate over miles? Certainly this intelligence extends beyond these few examples and into the capability of the planet to raise her temperature like a fever to deal with a global infection." I gasp for breath.

"Yes, James Lovelock's Gaia hypothesis," he muses. "I could believe in that God. But that God has no regard for humanity specifically."

"Probably not," I agree, reflecting on the mysterious universal life creating Reality.

Coalman and I sit back quietly in our seats for some time. Eventually he speaks.

"Changes are happening so fast now. I wish I could live to see what's next."

"How old are you, Coalman?" I ask.

"I'm eighty-three," he says.

The number hangs in the air while the captain tells us to prepare to land. I think about homeostasis, mushroom mats, the lost oceans of Venus, Coalman's unlikely attraction to Wicca and the web of intelligence that has somehow gotten all of us from Dallas to Albuquerque safely. But mostly I think about humans in a state of constant longing—the astral plane that beckons us to connect with the world and, if only temporarily, satisfy desires of the mind, body, and spirit. I watch the wedding party leave, heads bow over cell phones, and bags descend from overhead compartments.

And when Coalman prepares to leave I reach out to shake his hand goodnight. "Keep going," I say.

"You too," he says, holding my hand in a curious way.

While awaiting my bag to make its round on the carousel, I read the last of Leadbeater's essay, which does not have much to do with the astral plane but calms my mind. 

For those of us who are beginning to realize the existence and nature of the great divine scheme of evolution, the privilege of trying in our small way to help it forward is the one purpose of our existence.


Amy Gardner has a passion for exploring world religions, mythologies, and symbols. When she is not building, sculpting, and gardening, Amy makes her living as a writer. She lives with her partner in Corrales, New Mexico.


Clairvoyance and the Fairy Realm

Printed in the Fall 2013issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Lefevour, James A. "Clairvoyance and the Fairy Realm" Quest  101. 4 (Fall 2013): pg. 141-144.

By James A. Lefevour

Theosophical Society - James Lefevour is a former employee at the TS’s Olcott national headquartersLast year the Theosophical Society was lucky enough to have Robyn Finseth speak at its Sum­mer National Convention. As a clairvoyant, she described for all present the unseen world of fairies and nature spirits that has been a part of her life since she was a young child.

Finseth's vivid descriptions of astral life helped audience members imagine the details themselves. One could visualize a world of gnomes, who are round and squat and have no great interest in human life unless they are digging in the earth or gardening. One could also imagine towering and massive storm devas, direct­ing cloud currents and ionic energies in the atmosphere above the Swiss Alps.

Finseth went on to explain how fairies love to make colors and play with children: "I remember the little sprites, they would be so much fun. They used to flit and be funny and show off and make pretty little colors. I [was] a child and I would think it was wonderful. I still think it's wonderful, but they don't play with me like when I was a kid."

One of Finseth's most poignant statements was about her gratitude for being raised in a Theosophical family. "They nurtured my ability. They did not exploit it, nor did anyone that I met exploit it ... As far as being raised a Theosophist, of course if I had been born into any other family, you know exactly what would have occurred. I would have been put on medication or in some institution. Because it's very difficult, when you do have [clairvoyant] vision, to deny it."

An interest in fairies and astral nature spirits is interwoven with Theosophical history. The noted clair­voyant Dora Van Gelder Kunz, sister to Finseth's men­tor Harry Van Gelder, wrote The Real World of Fairies: A First-Person Account. In it she describes the different types of fairy life she has met, as well as their qualiies. Kunz also recounts various personal interactions with such astral beings, including a story involving a friend who, she implies, was her own childhood men­tor, Charles W Leadbeater.

The story begins just after Kunz turned fourteen years old. In an Australian national park, she and some friends, probably including Leadbeater, met an angel of great power and stature. The angel felt pleased that they could see him and the fairies in the area and that they could communicate with him as well. What he requested from them, as a favor, was a jeweled cross dangling from Leadbeater's neck. With the cross, which, the angel remarked, was blessed with a very special radiation of light, he intended to ensoul the valley with a sanctifying presence for the benefit of everyone.

They agreed to make the angel a similar cross if possible, which greatly pleased him. When the agreed-upon date of the exchange arrived, the angel's first question was, "Have you got the cross?" When they informed him that the item was not yet finished, the angel felt only confusion and disappointment. The angel explained that such things do not happen in the angelic kingdom. Once an agreement is made, one always keeps one's promises.

When they returned again, this time with the sacred object, the angel asked them to bury or conceal it for him on the park premises, since it was a physical object and he could not do so. The placement required great care and consideration, to the point where another angel was called upon to give input on the matter. After a spot was chosen, thousands of fairies came to wit­ness the event at the call of the angel. The fairies were instructed to bathe often in the radiation of the jew­els in order to carry the positive energy with them and spread it throughout the valley.

This story illustrates the prevalence of fairies and unseen nature as well as their influence on their surroundings. Kunz encourages people to inter­act with nature, and laments that pollution and urban sprawl have been separating human life from fairy influ­ence. Kunz encourages people to be aware of what they cannot observe with their five senses but can feel intui­tively and spiritually. She also expresses the importance of celebrating and preserving the sacredness of nature, as well as its invisible denizens.

Many people are not aware that another well-known name in Theosophy, Geoffrey Hodson, gained control of his latent clairvoyant abilities in his late thirties from a sudden interaction with fairies. With fairies, with his wife, Jane, and with his dog, Peter, to be more accurate. It is an account best told in Hodson's own words:

Jane and I lived in a large old house just outside the city. A wonderful pet, a rough-haired fox-terrier named Peter, shared our home and was actually the means of a startling development in my life. He was highly intelligent and very much a part of our lives. In winter he loved to lie near the fire and could almost always be found there while we ourselves relaxed during the evening hours.

However, one evening, to our surprise, he left the fire­side and went to the far end of the long room, where he stood for some time staring into a corner. Very curious, we called him, but he did not respond. Now and then his eyes would roll as though watching something flying about the room; otherwise he stared at what, from our view, seemed empty space. Finally Jane said, "Do go and see what Peter is looking at."

I went and sat beside our pet and put my arm about him. "What is it you are seeing, Peter?" I asked. Then suddenly he and I together became aware clairvoyantly of the presence of many members of the fairy kingdom  and a great deva which I beleve brought them to us, using the instinctual clairvoyance of Peter to attract my attention. I must describe the experience in the light of later knowledge, for I did not then understand it. The corner of the room was filled with the great glowing aura of deva, and in this aura, at about the level of our eyes, was a number of nature spirits. They kept moving about with the great cloud of light; occasionally one would flash about the room. I went back to where Jane sat by the place and tried to describe to her what I had seen and still seeing—especially one brownie who tramped up down the fireside carpet in a most amusing manner.

Hodson's work and interaction with the fairy community initially culminated in the writing of Fairies Work and Play. Leadbeater strongly endorsed Hodson's work and writings, stating that he himself could corroborate many of Hodson's descriptions of nature spirits. A major theme throughout his book, similar what Kunz and Finseth describe, is the great differences between the types of nature spirits, especial in appearance. But there is also an overarching note of hierarchy in Hodson's portrayals. For example, he speaks of devas or angels as very advanced beings, one would expect. Below them are what he calls fairies, who are intelligent and clairvoyant, and to whom he personally felt great affinity. These are the types of spirits mentioned in Kunz's story: they carry energies all around their environment, enlivening plants and trees, touching upon flowers and blossoms, and responding readily to angelic influence and direction. At heart, fairies themselves have more of a child-like, mischievous character, though their role is entire necessary to the atmosphere and positive energy of any nature environment. One could argue that if we had no fairies, there would be no Walden or Wordsworth.

Hodson describes nature spirits as being beneath fairies on the evolutionary ladder. There are varying degrees of individualization in these astral life forms, because they seem to be more like manifestations of the energy in the environment than distinct personalities. Examples of this type are undines, mannikins, gnomes, brownies, and elves, but he adds that there are many more in the nature spirit kingdom. He explains:

They may live as the ensouling life of a tree or group of trees (like the "dryads" of tradition), the magnetism of their bodies stimulating the far slower activities of the tree, the circulation of sap, etc.; or they may be engaged in raying out strong influences over certain spots, termed "mag­netic centres;' which have been put under their charge, or in assisting in the building, stabilising and distribution of thought-forms, such as those resulting from the use of religious and magical ceremonies, orchestral music, etc. The still more evolved devas or angels, who have reached the level of self-consciousness ... carry out the will of the Most High in all the worlds.

Hodson describes one spirit as wearing a coat and what looked like a leather belt; apparently many lower nature spirits wear the occasional piece of human clothing. This is not functional, as it is with humans; rather it is to mimic human beings that these spirits have observed. They wear clothes because people wear clothes. They also imitate other human activities. Hod­son noticed many gnomes with medieval attire pretend­ing to do manual tasks like farming or mining when in fact they did not make a dent in the ground.

The nature spirit with the coat sat down near a tree, in much the same way a human would sit from feeling exhausted. Then it faded into the tree, but not before removing its shell of a humanoid image as a snake might shed a skin. Hodson could still see the outline of the being within the tree, though the being's conscious­ness was absorbed within the trunk and spread out in its roots and branches. In other instances he saw nature spirits open doorways in the trunks of trees, as if enter­ing a house, but within the doorway was a void. The being did not enter an actual room, but simply disap­peared from this plane of existence.

In his book Hodson briefly mentions his involve­ment with the Cottingley fairies. This was a series of fairy photographs taken by two English girls. The story says something not only about the nature of fairies but also about the human public and its desire to learn about such invisible beings.

In the summer of 1917, two cousins named Elsie Wright and Frances Griffith, age sixteen and ten respec­tively, claimed they had taken real life photographs of a fairy and a gnome. They wasted no time in showing the photos to Elsie's parents, who did not know quite what to make of them. It happened that Elsie's mother, Polly, occasionally attended Theosophical lectures, having an interest in explaining occult experiences in her own life, and one evening the topic was on fairy life. Polly said that she had actual prints of fairies taken by her daugh­ter and niece.

By 1920, these prints had gotten into the hands of a Theosophist named E.L. Gardner, who had a great interest in photographing nature spirits. He immedi­ately spent some time making quality prints of the cop­ies from Polly and in commissioning experts to discern whether or not the photos had been tampered with. He learned that they had not. Shortly afterward, the writer Sir Arthur Conan Doyle contacted Gardner so that he might use the prints in a magazine article he was writ­ing about fairies for The Strand Magazine. Much of the photos' circulation before that point had been among sympathetic believers and Theosophists, but when that issue of the magazine hit the streets, the general public collectively gasped, and everyone was soon forming his own opinion on whether or not fairies could possibly be real. The issue sold out within days.

Gardner soon contacted and befriended the two girls and their family in Cottingley, giving them two cameras and twenty plates to see if they could capture any more photos. And success! On their own, Elsie and Frances were able to get three more photos of fairies. This prompted Gardner and Doyle to invite one of the few men who could verify the extent of fairy life in the forests and streams near the girls' house. This is the point where Geoffrey Hodson came to Cottingley.

In 1921 Hodson met with Elsie and Frances, and of course they talked a great deal about fairies. He walked with them and observed the lush backwoods where they often went to play. Indeed there was an abundance of fairy life, which he described to those present. By the end of the visit Hodson was certain that these girls had genuine experiences with nature spirits, and there­fore the photographs must also be genuine. In Fairies at Work and Play he wrote, "In order to help the reader to visualise clearly the appearance of a fairy I recommend the study of the fairy photographs in Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's book The Coming of the Fairies. I am personally convinced of the bona fides of the two girls who took these photographs. I spent some weeks with them and their family, and became assured of the genuineness of their clairvoyance, of the presence of fairies, exactly like those photographed, in the glen at Cottingly [sic], and of the complete honesty of all parties concerned." That was how the issue stood for decades until Gardner had passed away and the girls had both become grand­mothers.

In 1982 a journalist named Joe Cooper wrote an article called "Cottingley: At Last the Truth," in which Elsie and Frances admitted that it was all a hoax. But as with many complex issues of "truth," the answer ends up being neither a solid black nor white. Frances did see fairy life as a child, often near the stream at the end of the Wright family's gardens. And Elsie, while she could not see them, could feel and experience the radiance of the nature spirits' cheerful presence. Sev­eral times Frances would chase after her astral friends and end up falling into the water, getting her clothes drenched, and was often scolded for it when returning to the house. The adults would not believe it when the girls accredited the accident to chasing fairies, so the young Frances and Elsie concocted a prank to get back at their disbelieving elders.

Frances had some artistic skill, and so they made cutouts of the small figures, and the girls used hatpins to affix them to the ground so they would stay still long enough for the camera exposure to get a clear shot. The photos themselves were not fakes, as they had not been tampered with, but the fairies pictured were less than genuine. As for Hodson's verification, he prob­ably determined from the girls' descriptions that they had witnessed and experienced authentic astral beings, since that part was true. His assertion of the photo­graphs' authenticity was based entirely on his clairvoy­ant knowledge of the fairies at Cottingley, since he was not an expert on the mechanics of photography.

Finseth's lectures speak of bringing balance to our lives, and of the great value of meditation or prayer. She talks about how our emotions have real form; we put them out into our aura and our surroundings so that they benefit or degrade any environment. This is not so different from the type of energies that create lower nature spirits, or the energies that the fairies maintain. The energies cultivated by these astral beings are put into plants and flowers, into the waters and the air, and into the storms. These energies, which are present in all sacred places, have the power to amplify the good moods of human beings and alleviate their sufferings.

It is enough to make one, when next on a nature hike or in the presence of a brilliant sunset, release an inten­tional feeling of sincere gratitude or of loving peace and see what comes back. It may very well echo in ret with added power. And that's the point. Neither F eth, Kunz, nor Hodson ever asked anyone to belie what they said on faith. What they do ask is that reach out intuitively and experience nature while e sidering their explanations for these phenomena. T act accordingly, changing your worldview, and he fully gaining a newfound degree of appreciation those invisible little critters.


Sources

Cooper, Joe. `Cottingley: At Last the Truth." http://www.lhup.edu dsimanekicooper.htm; accessed Jur 11, 2013.

Finseth, Robyn. Understanding the Fields of Consciousness Audio and DVD. Wheaton: Theosophical Society in America, 2012.

• Balance in the Physical Realm. Audio and DVD.
Wheaton: Theosophical Society in America, 2012.

Gardner, Edward L. Fairies: A Book of Real Fairies. Lund: Theosophical Publishing House, 1972.

Hodson, Geoffrey. Fairies at Work and Play. Wheaton: Theosophical Publishing House, 1982.

Keidan, Bill. "An Assessment of Mr. Hodson's Life's Work
http://www.katinkahesselink.net/other/hodson-Bill-Keidan-assessment.html; accessed June 10, 2013.

Kunz, Dora. The Real World of Fairies: A First-Person Account. Wheaton: Quest, 1999.

 

James Lefevour is a lodge member and employee of the TS in Wheaton. He has an M.S. in written communication from National-Louis University.


Eileen Garrett: The Medium is the Message

Printed in the Fall 2013 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Chambers, John. "Eileen Garrett: The Medium is the Message" Quest  101. 4 (Fall 2013): pg. 136-140.

 By John Chambers

Theosophical Society - Eileen Garrett was an Irish medium and parapsychologist. Garrett's alleged psychic abilities were tested in the 1930s by Joseph Rhine and othersDo mediums channel spirits and spirit messages from other planes of reality? No one can really  say. But today, when mediums are often TV performers as much as they are communicators with the beyond, hawk their wares like merchants selling medicine, and refuse to submit to scientific testing, it's illuminating to look at the life of Eileen Garrett. This vibrant, red-haired Irishwoman, who lived from 1893 to 1970, is remembered today mainly for founding New York's esteemed Parapsychology Foundation. But she was certainly the greatest medium of the twentieth century, and she helped numerous people in numerous ways while willingly submitting herself to every sort of scientific investigation.

In her autobiography, Eileen reveals her defining characteristic: a "quality of doing as I wanted to in spite of everything . . . [which] had no elements of active defi­ance, resistance or animus. And I lived as I was made." 

Her nature was loving, but also independent and imperious. She refused to blindly follow the dictates of consensus reality; instead, she bent reality, she forged reality, she created it. 

Eileen Garrett never knew her parents. She was born in Beauparc, County Meath, Ireland, on March 17, 1893. Her mother, raised a strict Presbyterian, eloped with her father, a Spanish Roman Catholic, while she was on a school tour to Morocco. The bride was ostra­cized by her family, except for her oldest sister, on whose property Anna and Anthony, the parents, lived until Eileen was born. The young mother drowned her­self a few days after Eileen's birth; she had been told her parents would never accept her, or her husband, into the family. Her father fatally shot himself six weeks later; he had been informed that he couldn't take his daughter back with him to his family in Spain. Recent research has suggested that this story is apocryphal and that either Eileen's aunt, who told her the story, misled her, or Eileen understandably misremembered what she had been told as a child.

In any event Eileen was certainly an orphan, and her upbringing was difficult enough. She was raised by her aunt and uncle on a farmhouse in one of the most isolated, if beautiful, areas of Ireland. As a child she felt closer to nature and the cosmos than she did to indi­vidual human beings. She wrote that she saw people "not merely as physical bodies, but as if each were set within a nebulous egg-shaped covering of his own. This surround, as I called it for want of a better name, con­sisted of transparent changing colors, or could become dense and heavy in character—for these coverings changed according to the variations in people's moods." Eileen later learned of "the positive importance of the surround as a protection to the physical body, receiving and condensing the impacts of sound, light and move­ment, and diminishing their violence."

She was constantly scolded by her harsh aunt, but discovered as a child that "I could involuntarily shut away the sound and sense of her harshness." Years later, she wondered if acquiring this skill had been "the beginning of that cleavage which later developed into my having more than one personality to live with." 

From the age of four, Eileen had imaginary play­mates—two girls and a boy. She called them "The Chil­dren" and communicated with them telepathically. The Children never changed as Eileen grew up. She wrote, "Their bodies were soft and warm. Yet they were dif­ferent. I saw all bodies surrounded by a nimbus of light, but The Children were gauze-like. Light permeated their substance . . . They possessed a hidden dignity that commanded respect. The Children loved every­thing that grew and flowered, and they helped develop my already acute sense of knowing things."

From an early age Eileen had developed a sense of what sounds very much like the plenum—a classical term, often used by C.J. Jung, that defines space not as a quantum vacuum that is empty but as an overflow­ing fullness. "Thus, from the beginning, space has never been empty for me. There was both sound and move­ment in the 'space' of every area, and I could discrimi­nate among environments by the impressions of this tremendous 'vitality' that I appear to gather otherwise than by means of my five senses."

While still a child, she found she could watch a being's spirit leave its body. In revenge for her aunt's acts of cruelty, she strangled all the ducks on the farm. She wrote, "The little dead bodies were quiet, but a strange movement was occurring all about them. A gray, smoke-like substance rose up from each small form." Eileen would have three sons, one dying just after birth, the other two dying in infancy. In all three deaths, she watched heartbroken as the spirit rose from the body. 

As a young woman the red-haired Eileen was bosomy and lissome, with a pretty face that often shone with beauty. She would many three times, each time with a kind of lofty detachment, and was able to dis­engage herself with only a little heartache from two of these marriages. The exception was her second hus­band, an army officer. When she married him in Lon­don at the height of World War I, he was about to leave for the front, and Eileen had a horrible premonition that he would be killed in just days or weeks. Not long after his departure, at a dinner party, she suddenly lost all sense of personal identity and found herself "caught in the shattering concussion of a terrible explosion. I saw my gentle, golden-haired husband blown to pieces. I floated out on a sea of terrific sound. When I came to myself, I knew that my husband had been killed." He had indeed been killed, and at the time that she was having this experience.

During her first marriage Eileen had discovered she could see "more easily and clearly through my finger­tips and the nape of my neck than through my eyes; and hearing and knowing, for instance, came through my feet and knees." This "knowing," gained through her paranormal senses, would always be more meaning­ful than the knowledge she acquired with her normal senses.

Europe emerged in tatters from World War I. Mil­lions of innocents were slaughtered in this war which had begun with so much patriotic fervor. A whole gen­eration of fighting British, French, and German youth was annihilated. Religious faith was shattered; people desperately sought new meaning in a universe where all traditional values had been upended. (Even during the war, Eileen had flirted with Britain's socialist Fabian Society, which advocated a system of governance by the workers.)

Brilliant eccentrics and maverick geniuses flourished in this climate. At the end of the war, Eileen came under the spell of one of these geniuses. This was Edward Carpenter, then in his seventies. A prolific author and activist, Carpenter was known internationally for such books as Civilization: Its Cause and Cure, The Drama of Love and Death, and Pagan and Christian Creeds. He complimented Eileen on the "miraculous spectrum" of her early childhood experiences and declared that she was gifted with cosmic consciousness. (The term, which connotes a mystical awareness of the unity of life and the universe, was coined by Richard Maurice Bucke in his celebrated book of the same name.) Carpenter claimed to possess this awareness, and, telling Eileen she possessed it too, helped her sharpen it. Her elderly teacher was willful, cantankerous, and dictatorial, but Eileen stuck with him for two years. Thus had begun, she would later say, the period of her higher education. 

In 1920, she began to study with James Hewat McKenzie, someone else whose ideas had prospered in the iconoclastic postwar period. McKenzie had just founded the British College of Psychic Science in Lon­don; Eileen stayed with him until his death in 1930. He was the first to recognize and encourage her psychic gifts. He believed not only that potential mediums should undergo a long and careful apprenticeship, but that their spirit guides, or "spirit controls," should be trained as well. Spirit controls are the discarnate enti­ties who act as "traffic cops," deciding which spirits should or should not enter the mind of the medium they also do most of the communicating.

It was also in 1920 that Eileen had her firs real brush with a spirit control.  In 1918 she had given birth to a fourth child, a girl, Babette. Two years later, Babette  beame  gravely ill with whooping cough and pneumonia. Doctors were sure she would die. Eileen’s biographer Alan Angoff writes in Eileen Garrett and the World beyond the Senses that Eileen

was enraged by all of them [the doctors], refusing to accept this fate, and set about tying to save her baby in her own manner. She picked Babette up out of the crib, breathed air into her mouth, and tried to lend her some of her own mother's vitality as she held her close. In the midst of her efforts she heard a voice saying, "Be careful! She must have more air. Open the windows and allow a new cur­rent of air in the room."

She followed these directions without questioning who it was who spoke, or feeling any fear of the strong breeze corning from the open window. 'A moment later," she recalled, "I saw the outline of a figure leaning against the bed, a short lithe man; his face was turned away from me. I was too petrified to look very closely at him. Although my limbs were trembling, I knew I must approach the bed and put the child back on it.

"As I laid her down, I was aware of this man, in gray garments, standing beside me, with a sympathetic and kindly smile. His presence reassured me; fear left me and I knew he had come to help me save the child."

To the amazement of the doctors, Babette recovered completely in a few days.

It was not until 1930, when she was thirty-seven, that Eileen learned that this "man in gray garments" was an early manifestation of her second spirit control, Abdul Latif. He was identified with a historical figure, a great Muslim physician who was born in Baghdad in 1162 and died there in 1231. Abdul Latif traveled throughout the Muslim world and served for a time as a physician in the court of Saladin, sultan of Egypt.

For over ten years Eileen had already been reluc­tantly and gingerly dealing with her first spirit control, Ouvani, or Uvani, who claimed to be a fourteenth-century Persian soldier. She first encountered Uvani when, one night in the company of friends, she invol­untarily fell into trance and mouthed incomprehen­sible words in a strange oriental accent. Frightened, she consulted Huhnli, an eminent Swiss spiritualist in London. Huhnli made contact with Uvani and identi­fied this spirit control. He explained to Eileen: "This is what happened in your case. I spoke with the con­trolling entity who used your mechanism whilst you were apparently asleep. He is a man of unusual intel­ligence, who declares that he is an Oriental; he wishes to do serious work to prove the validity of the theory of survival."

From 1920 to 1930, with many hesitations because she feared the spirit controls might be early manifesta­tions of madness—and in the midst of a whirl of activi­ties that included healings, ghost "releasements," and a great deal of social work—Eileen increasingly and with greater and greater effectiveness made use of her psy­chic powers.

At a séance in 1929 she channeled the eminent British barrister Sir Edward Marshall Hall, who had died earlier that year. Two years before, Hall had vis­ited a clairvoyant himself and had been told he would die within two years. Someone at the seance inquired of Uvani: "May we ask what sort of work he is doing now?" Uvani replied, apparently channeling Hall's words:

I fear I am going to disappoint you, but this is not heaven, neither is it hell, though it savors of both. My friends are still tied up with knots and problems, but I played at both things and was terribly sincere when I played. I am still playing. This is not a state of spirit any more than the one I have left, and I am young here, a mere baby. I have only been over a year or two. I am doing what the other infants do, opening my eyes, looking around and asking questions. There is still a lot of earth man left in me, thank God. I am still in a state of matter, with a more beautiful and much less troublesome body. I take a hand in everything that is going on ... This is a place where free will predominates . . . All experience is growth ... it can be Hell or Heaven . . . from my own point of view, I am not in Hell ... I am now in a comfortable part of the globe ... Here is freedom from pain, freedom from sorrow, the vision which has led me all my life and which I would not change.

During this period Eileen became fairly well-known; in late 1930, a single psychic feat made her world-famous. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, creator of Sherlock Holmes, a great believer in channeling and a leader in the spiritualist movement, died on July 7. On October 5 of that year, the 777-foot British dirigible R101, on its maiden voyage, crashed in flames near the French town of Beauvais, killing forty-eight of its fifty-four passengers.

Two years earlier, while giving a sitting in the pres­ence of Doyle, Eileen had foreseen this crash. (Even before the séance, she had had multiple visions of diri­gibles crashing over London.) On October 7, two days after the destruction of the 11101, she held a seance to try to contact Doyle. Uvani appeared and spoke calmly. Then his voice became agitated. Speaking in clipped British accents, he conveyed a message apparently from Flight Lieutenant H. Carmichael Irwin, the R101's captain, who had been killed in the crash. During the seance (and six more, in which other alleged deceased members of the crew spoke out), Irwin provided tech­nical knowledge concerning the crash that no one else could have known at the time. Months later, the results of the official investigation confirmed everything that Irwin and the other crew members had said.

A year later, Eileen was invited by the American Society for Psychical Research to participate in a series of experiments and go on a lecture tour of the U.S. Dur­ing this tour she managed to help many people with her psychic gifts. In Hollywood, at a private session attended by Cecil B. DeMille, she channeled the movie producer's deceased mother. DeMille deeply loved his mother. He had been a skeptic, but he was so moved and persuaded by this experience that the next day he filled Eileen's hotel suite with flowers.

Trapped in France in the first months of the Ger­man occupation, Eileen helped the French in every way she could. In 1941 she escaped to the U.S. with her daughter. Arriving in New York, she set up her own publishing company, Creative Age Press, in the space of a single month. Creative Age published the first New Age magazine, Tomorrow, which appeared regularly for over a decade, and a full line of books by well-known authors, including six by Eileen. She wrote the first, Telepathy, in six weeks. She penned a dozen works, including three novels; all sold well.

In 1957, the depth psychologist Ira Progoff talked to Eileen's spirit controls—there were four of them now — Uvani, Abdul Latif, Tahoteh, and Raxnah — while the publisher-psychic lay in trance. The conversations were published in Progoff's Image of an Oracle: A Report on Research into the Mediumship of Eileen J. Garrett. Prog­off wrote:

The psyche of Eileen Garrett is also a vehicle of something much larger than the individual whose name it bears .. . its capacities, its nature, its intent, and the contents of its psychological expressions are all symbolic manifestations of a principle and power that is not Eileen Garrett at all. It brings forth Eileen Garrett, as it brings forth all other indi­viduals. It supplies the necessary materials and utilizes them, and moves on its infinite way. The individual person may provide the temporary field in which the events take place; but the individual is not the cause of them, and the fullness of meaning contained in the events is not to be understood with reference to the individual psyche per se.

From an early age Eileen had suffered from health problems—tuberculosis, asthma, a heart condition, bouts with pneumonia, and much else. She was often hospitalized, though much of the time she bravely ignored these problems. They caught up with her. In 1951, ill and exhausted, she sold Creative Age Press and set up the Parapsychology Foundation, a New York-based research foundation and library that is still in operation. In a few years, the foundation was hold­ing annual conferences at sites around the world. On September 4, 1970, on the last day of the Parapsychol­ogy Foundation's nineteenth international conference, held at Eileen's French Riviera villa—and which she attended—the valiant pioneer in the use of paranormal abilities died of heart failure.

We're fortunate to have from the pen of Martin Ebon (1917-2006), administrative secretary of the Parapsychological Foundation for twelve years, a portrait of Eileen Garrett at work. On this particular day in the mid-1960s, the work consisted of exorcis­ing the supposed spirit of a witch who had invaded the mind and body of a wealthy young married woman liv­ing in an elegant town house on New York's Upper East Side. Ebon was the author or editor of more than eighty books, including They Knew the Unknown, Prophecy in Our Time, and KGB: Death and Rebirth. In his account of the exorcism in The Devil's Bride: Exorcism, Past and Present (1970), he disguises the identity of the upscale New York wife, giving her the alias of Victoria Camden.

Ebon tells us that, over a period of months, Victo­ria had suffered many strange and violent accidents in her home: "Without forewarning, she might be thrown across the room, and pitched down on her face. At one time, she nearly drowned in her bathtub and then found herself hurled, wet and helpless and naked, against the tiles around the tub and wall." Her body was bloody, scratched, and beaten; she suffered from contusions.

Eileen always made sure witnesses were present, one of them keeping a record, when she was involved in psychic experimentation. She had invited Victoria's lawyer to join her in this exorcism experiment in the victim's own house, and she asked Ebon to accom­pany her there to take notes and ask supplementary questions.

The moment Eileen, Ebon, and the lawyer entered the house, an historic old New York mansion, Victo­ria—who had just returned with her husband from an outing—exclaimed in a horrified whisper, "She is here!" Ebon tells us, "There was a tremolo in her voice. First her hands began to shake; then her whole body."

The terrified victim told them she sensed the pres­ence of Ruth, a spirit who had been pursued as a witch in Salem, Massachusetts, at the time of the witch trials, but had never been caught or tried. There had been a lead-up: over the months, Victoria had been doing auto­matic writing without quite knowing what it was, and she had channeled entities who often made odd and provocative remarks such as "Midnight is a fool's myth," and "Oh, it's so cold in this merciless wind." Then Vic­toria began to see ghosts and hear bizarre noises.

That was before she and her husband moved into this house in Manhattan. Then all became a nightmare of possession. "I've been ill the whole time," Victoria told them. "The persecution of Ruth has made me sick­est of all with these violent attacks. You have no idea how violent they were— I mean, she'd throw you across the room ... always on the face ... You'd be perfectly all right, you'd start across the room ordinarily and then—wham! —down you go."

Now Eileen set about exorcising this ghost in her customary fashion. Ebon writes that she

began to go slowly through the house, from room to room, from floor to floor . . . In some of the rooms, and even on stairway landings, Mrs. Garrett stopped quietly, spoke inaudibly as if in prayer or pleading with an unseen force. On two occasions she rushed ahead, giving us little chance to catch up, and then stood still, as if listening. At one point she stared at a wall; later she said there had been an opening, a window or door or connection with another building, but it had now been closed off: its memory remained, like a phantom limb. Moving about, she was taking, as it were, the buildings psychic measure, search­ing for memories that might be felt and dramatized by a sensitive person, while seeking to put them in their proper place in time and history.

This went on for about an hour. "Mrs. Garrett was seemingly just building up energy while, as she put it, `smelling the place out.' It was all in preparation for the final encounter, the meeting of ghost with ghost."

Eileen now sat down on the living-room couch and, making herself comfortable by slipping off her jewelry, closed her eyes and leaned her head against the couch's back. She was waiting for her control entities, Uvani or Abdul Latif, to emerge and to speak through her. Finally sounds issued from her mouth. They came with the characteristic voice, intonation, and vocabulary of Abdul Latif. The spirit asked, "What do you wish of me?"

Victoria's husband, helped by Ebon, quickly explained Victoria's dilemma to the entranced Eileen and, supposedly, to the waiting shade of Abdul Latif. While they were speaking, "Victoria seemed convulsed, tossed about like a ship in a storm. While her body writhed, a croaking voice uttered from her throat, 'I want—I want—I want—peace!"

Then Abdul Latif asked Victoria to come to him. She stumbled across the floor and sank down beside the couch. A stream of reassurances came from Eileen's vocal chords. "We are here to heal you," Abdul Latif intoned soothingly, "to help you find you, to bring you peace." Victoria laid her head in Eileen's lap; she was sobbing, but the writhing had stopped. Abdul Latif spoke to the possessing spirit of Ruth, telling her she must leave Victoria and that she must leave this plane of reality. But she was not being abandoned, because others like himself would help her when she arrived at the other side. Then the spirit control, guiding Eileen's hand over Victoria's head as if in blessing, said a few more compassionate words that nonetheless urged the possessing spirit to depart—and Ruth was suddenly gone. Victoria looked around calmly.

Eileen, shuddering softly, emerged slowly and heav­ily from the trance and asked what had happened. She was told. She suggested they all have a drink and some food. This they did; and Victoria was a normally gra­cious, smiling, Upper East Side hostess.

Eileen paid a follow-up visit a week later; Victoria was still perfectly normal, and would remain so. The medium and Ebon discussed the exorcism, as they had discussed many others; both agreed that there might have been a certain degree of self-dramatization, of the unconscious but powerful use of the creative imagi­nation, in Victoria's seeming possession. Was that the whole truth? Perhaps so, but Eileen didn't think so. She didn't dwell on it, though, but merely added it to her data base of psychic experimentation. The point was that Victoria was cured. For the twentieth century's greatest medium, it was all in a day's work.


 

Sources

Angoff, Allan. Eileen Garrett and the World beyond the Senses. New York: Morrow, 1974.

Ebon, Martin. The Devil's Bride: Exorcism, Past & Present. New York: Signet, 1974.

Garrett, Eileen J. Adventures in the Supernormal: A Personal Memoir. New York: Garrett, 1949.

— . Life Is the Healer. Philadelphia: Dorrance, 1957.

— . Many Voices: The Autobiography of a Medium. New York: G.P. Putnam, 1968.

— . The Sense and Nonsense of Prophecy. New York: Berkley, 1950.

— . Telepathy: In Search of a Lost Faculty. New York: Creative Age, 1941.

—., ed. Does Man Survive Death? New York: Garrett, 1957. Garrett, Eileen J., and Abril Lamarque. Man—The

Maker: From Fire to Atom: A Pictorial Record of Man's Inventiveness. New York: Creative Age, 1946.

McMahon, Joanne D.S. Eileen Garrett: A Woman

Who Made a Difference. New York: Parapsychology Foundation, 1994.

Progoff, Ira. The Image of an Oracle: A Report on Research into the Mediumship of Eileen J. Garrett. New York: Helix/ Garrett, 1964.

 

 

JOHN CHAMBERS is the author of a number of books, including Conversations with Eternity: The Forgotten Masterpiece of Victor Hugo, which has been translated into seven languages; Victor Hugo's Conversations with the Spirit World: A Literary Genius's Hidden Life; and The Secret Life of Genius: How Twenty-Four Great Men and Women Were Touched by Spiritual Worlds. His next book, Isaac Newton: Rescuing the Soul of Man, will be published in early 2014. He lives in Redding, California.

 

 


Otherwhere: An Interview with Kurt Leland

Printed in the Fall 2013 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Smoley
, Richard. "Otherwhere: An Interview with Kurt Leland" Quest  101. 4 (Fall 2013): pg. 130-135.

By Richard Smoley

Kurt Leland is one of today's most intrepid explorers of the inner planes. A musician and author as well as a visionary, he has written books including Otherwhere: A Field Guide to Nonphysical Reality for the Out-of-Body Traveler and The Multidimensional Human. A member of the TS, he has given lectures and presentations in Theosophical venues. In addition, he has an encyclopedic knowledge of the writings of the Theosophical leader Annie Besant. His latest work, an anthology of her writings entitled Invisible Worlds: Annie Besant on Psychic and Spiritual Development (Quest Books).

I met Kurt during his visit to Olcott in the fall of 2011, and was immediately impressed with the depth of his knowledge of and experience in, the astral and mental realms, which are for most people little more than vaguely understood concepts. He seemed to be the perfect person to feature in an issue on the astral plane. The following conversation was conducted by e-mail in the spring of 2013.

Richard Smoley: What exactly is the astral plane? How does it differ from the other unseen levels that esotericism talks about?

Kurt Leland: Many ancient and modem religions posit the sky or the stars as a paradisal destination for the souls of the dead. Hinduism, Buddhism, Islam, Gnosticism, and the Christianity behind Dante's Divine Comedy divide this heaven in the sky into multiple layers (often seven) in which immateriality and blessedness increase as the soul ascends. In some religions, the soul may be detained in one or another of these layers to be purified before continuing to rise or returning to earth in a new physical body—hence the notion of purgatory in Catholic teachings. In the fifth century CE, the Neoplatonist Proclus seems to have originated the term astral (Greek: "starry") body as one of the soul's "vehicles." Since then, the word astral has been assigned by various esoteric traditions to a number of bodies, states of consciousness, and nonphysical locations. Even in H.P. Blavatsky's writings, the terms astral body and astral plane may refer sometimes to a particular state of existence beyond that of the physical realm and sometimes to any such state.

In later Theosophical literature, especially that produced by Annie Besant and C.W. Leadbeater, the astral plane is defined as the first nonphysical reality we encounter after death—less material than the physical plane, yet denser in substance than the higher planes and serving a purgatorial function.

Smoley: Could you talk a little about how the astral level fits in with other planes of reality that Theosophy discusses?

Leland: HPB defined a plane as "the range or extent of some state of consciousness, or of the perceptive powers of a particular set of senses, or the action of a particular force, or the state of matter corresponding to any of .the above" (Blavatsky, Theosophical Glossary, 255)

Thus the astral plane is a state of consciousness in which, by means of appropriate inner senses we perceive a particular state of matter (less dense than that of the physical plane, more subtle than that of higher planes). This matter corresponds to our states of desire and emotion. Thus the astral plane is sometimes called the plane of kama (Sanskrit: "desire") or the emotional plane. Higher levels of existence correspond to the mind (mental plane), the intuition (buddhic plane), and the spiritualized will (nirvanic plane).

Smoley: What does the astral plane have to do with the astral light as described by HPB, Etliphas Levi, and other occultists?

Leland: In Transactions of the Blavatsky Lodge, HPB calls the astral light "the dregs of akasha," a Sanskrit word meaning "radiance" (Blavatsky, Collected Writings 10:251). For her, akasha, one of the five elements of Hinduism (along with earth, water, air, and fire), seems to be the "substance" of nonphysical reality. It has seven levels, of which the astral light is the lowest.

Sometimes HPB speaks of "Astral Light" (uppercase) when referring to the higher levels. She also calls the "astral light" (lowercase) the astral body of our planet and claims that we have filled it with destructive images (thought-forms) based on selfishness—negative thoughts and feelings that separate us from the whole. No wonder she refers to dregs!

Besant and Leadbeater speak of the astral plane in similar terms, so it seems reasonable to equate the astral light and the astral plane. However, Besant and Leadbeater often describe the planes in travelogue form, leaving the impression that they are quasi-physical locations. HPB's notion of levels of akasha reminds us that when our inner senses are attuned to these levels, we perceive illusory images superimposed on a nonphysical reality more correctly perceived as degrees of radiance emanating from the Source of our planar system. Such images are often symbolic, drawn from our personal experience. They help us understand what we perceive in subtle realms, but they have no actual existence there.

Smoley: Could you say a little bit about how ordinary people experience the astral plane?

Leland: I'm not sure that ordinary people do experience it! Though dreams ordinarily take place on the astral plane, they rarely give clues about the structure of that plane and its regions and inhabitants. An extraordinary amount of lucidity is required to experience such things directly. But perhaps you mean, how would an ordinary person suddenly catapulted onto the astral plane experience it? This was my situation when my projection experiences began at age fourteen. I had no training, no desire for such experiences. I wasn't seeking them. I didn't know what they were—and I found them terrifying.

Most people fear that separation of the locus of consciousness—what we call ourselves—from the physical body means death, or at least the possibility of not being able to get back into it. I experienced that fear. I knew I was someplace else. I could see nothing, hear nothing, and I couldn't move of my own accord—my astral senses weren't sufficiently developed for such purposes. A presence of some sort was drawing me along. I fought to get away from it and return to my physical body. It may have been a benign presence, even perhaps a teacher. But I had no way of knowing what it was.

Just as we don't know how to sort out our sense impressions when we're born into the physical body, so it is when we first experience the astral body. We have to go from what Besant calls a sheath—an unorganized astral body that has only the possibility of responding to the matter of the astral plane—to a body, in which we feel and understand the full range of human emotion and have mastered it to some degree, to a vehicle of consciousness, which allows us to be fully aware of, and to move freely on, the astral plane because we've mastered our emotional nature.

Several years after my first projections, I learned what they were. I began to develop the senses of this astral vehicle so I would know where I was, what I was seeing, whom I was interacting with, and how to get from one astral location to another. The process took about twelve years.

Smoley: What does this level of reality have to do with dreams?

Leland: Though much Theosophical literature focuses on the astral plane as a stage in our journey between death and rebirth, this plane also represents the state of consciousness in which many of our dreams take place. Astral dreams serve much the same purpose as the purgatorial stage of the afterlife. They allow us to confront and release the emotional reactions built up within daily life. We confront them as dream images, and the corresponding changes in the physical body allow us to release them.

Though people often think of astral projection as a specialized technique that may be difficult or dangerous to develop, we project onto the astral plane every night when we're asleep. In our dreams, we tend to be self-absorbed, not recognizing the astral environment for what it is—just as we may not notice our physical surroundings when we're brooding in ordinary waking consciousness. Exploring the astral plane may require little more than turning our attention away from personal dream imagery toward the more public aspects of the astral plane—its scenes, dwellers, and phenomena.

Smoley: There is some implicit conflict about astral travel and similar techniques among Theosophists. There is the idea that these powers can be developed, but there is also a tremendous reluctance to develop them on the grounds that this can be dangerous. Where do you stand on this issue?

Leland: HPB's writings are full of warnings about the dangers of developing abilities such as channeling (mediumship) and astral travel. Back in the 1970s, a book of selections from her writings called Dynamics of the Psychic World was published. The editor's choices were sufficiently alarming that anyone who read it would naturally be wary of such explorations. Yet the following passage was not included: "Subjective, purely spiritual 'Mediumship' is the only harmless kind, and is often an elevating gift that might be cultivated by every one" (Blavatsky, Collected Writings 6:329).

HPB taught the students of her Esoteric School to seek the guidance of high spiritual Masters by "rising to the spiritual plane where the Masters are" (B1avatsky, Collected Writings 12:492). This is what she means by "subjective, purely spiritual 'Mediumship.— Some students may rise to that plane through meditation, with no awareness of bodies and planes. According to Annie Besant, these are the "mystics." Others may experience this journey more dramatically, as a rising from one subtle body and plane to another, with complete awareness of the scenes, dwellers, and phenomena encountered in each. Besant calls these the "occultists." She makes this distinction in her 1914 essay "Occultism," one of the texts I selected for Invisible Worlds.

I have learned that in nonphysical reality everything can be experienced as energy, information, and consciousness. Our inner senses are attuned to one or more of these aspects, resulting in what could be called our spiritual temperament. In meditative states or astral projection, the realities we experience correspond to our temperament.

If we're mystics, we respond to the energy aspect of nonphysical reality. Our experience will be filled with radiance, bliss, and a sense of ultimate truth—and may be otherwise indescribable. If we're clairvoyants, we respond to the information aspect. Our experience will be filled with vivid imagery and colors, seemingly real places and beings—which we tend to take literally, based purely upon appearances (for example, seeing the streets of heaven as paved with gold). If we're channelers, we respond to the consciousness aspect. Our experience will be filled with clairaudient encounters with seemingly friendly nonphysical beings— which we may not be able to identify as benevolent or malevolent or verify as truthful.

Ideally, we learn to counterbalance the strengths and weaknesses of our temperaments by developing our inner senses to respond to the other two aspects of nonphysical reality. Thus mystics who add information and consciousness to energy are able to sense the ultimate truthfulness of any nonphysical location or communication. I believe HPB was such a mystic. This is why she was so adept at finding the truths behind the world's religions and poking holes in the teachings of contemporary spiritualists, many of whom were insufficiently developed clairvoyants and channels. Of course, HPB was also a clairvoyant and a channel. The best teachers are highly developed along all three lines, but their primary temperament still colors their teachings.

Clairvoyants who add energy and consciousness to information know that the imagery they perceive as locations and beings represents a larger, otherwise inexpressible reality, and they recognize the need to interpret what they see as symbolic of that larger reality. I believe Leadbeater was such a clairvoyant.

This is why his descriptions of the astral plane are so vividly real to us as readers. But we must read them with our inner senses to discover the truth behind the often symbolic imagery

Channels who add energy and information to consciousness will have nonphysical contacts and will also know what they are, what their relationship to truth is, and the value of the information received from them. The twentieth-century Theosophist Geoffrey Hodson may have been such a channel. He's mostly known today for his vivid imagery of devas (angels) that he perceived clairvoyantly. But several of his early books, beginning with The Brotherhood of Angels and Men, were channeled by an angelic being called Bethelda.

Sadly, too many contemporary channels have access only to consciousness and information. They make extraordinary claims for the celestial origins of the beings who speak through them and they're fluent in delivering information, but to the discerning reader the results are little more than platitudes from the Pleiades.

So, to answer your question—I suspect that many Theosophists have the mystical temperament and are drawn to HPB's teachings because she also had this temperament. Such Theosophists will naturally distrust clairvoyant and channeled information as possibly less truthful than a direct experience of God consciousness achieved through meditation. The clairvoyants and channels may be more drawn to Leadbeater's teachings.

Some schisms in the Theosophical movement, as well as the resulting support or denigration of clairvoyance, channeling, and astral travel, may have been caused by unrecognized differences in spiritual temperament. Perhaps in moving forward, we can expand the notion of universal brotherhood to include these temperaments and recognize that whether we have the temperament of a mystic, a clairvoyant, or a channeler, the challenge for each of us is to add the missing sensitivities to our awareness, whether they be energy, information, or consciousness.

Smoley: There is some suggestion that images of future events lie embedded in the astral plane, and that having access to these is how prophecy works. Could you comment on this idea?

Leland: My understanding is that events take on energetic shape on higher planes and descend gradually into greater degrees of specificity, dropping from plane to plane until they manifest in the physical world. On the astral plane, such "event shapes" may have a high degree of specificity as to locations and persons, but not as to timing. As they get closer to occurring in our world, they begin exerting pressure to manifest on the physical plane, so that everything that is required to embody them lines up. People who are psychically sensitive may become aware of this pressure either as a hunch or sense of impending disaster or as an outright premonition with verifiable details. The closer these event shapes come to physical manifestation, the more likely such sensitives are to pick up on a specific time frame for their occurrence.

Theoretically, anyone who has access to planes higher than the astral can become aware of the shape of events as manifested on those planes — say, as archetypal imagery with a relatively low degree of specificity as to time and location. The prophecies of Nostradamus may be of this type: visions of archetypal event shapes that could replicate themselves on the physical plane in a variety of ways and that could generate any number of historically important events over the centuries since they were first uttered. This may account for their perpetual fascination as well as for the skeptics accusation that they're too vague to be applicable to a particular past, present, or coming event.

Smoley: Some esoteric traditions talk about things like egregores and (in the Tibetan tradition) tulpas —psychic entities that are created through thought power and will alone. Do you think there is any truth to this idea? Do you have any experience of these entities?

Leland: In Magic and Mystery in Tibet, Alexandra David-Neel tells the story of creating such a tulpa as an experiment in the application of techniques learned from Tibetan teachers. She vividly imagined a fat jolly Buddhist monk as a companion—who then seemed to be constantly near her. She could see it and feel its touch. It traveled with her, and she could watch it perform actions she hadn't willed it to do. It was also sometimes visible to others. However, after a while, it began to change form, becoming increasingly malevolent. Six months of constant practice were required to dissolve it.

Certainly this is a cautionary tale about the power of the will and the dangers of ignorant experimentation. HPB would probably say that because David-Neel had stopped refreshing the tulpa with her will, it was taken over by an elemental (a nonphysical being, not necessarily good or evil, but indifferent to humanity and often unintentionally inimical) or an elementary (the astral shell of a deceased person of evil disposition).

I've had no experience of egregores, which I understand to be similar to tulpas, but are created by the combined will of a group. However, I may have experienced a tulpa. In college, I developed a reservoir of ill will toward some fellow students who lived down the hall from me and who frequently interfered with my sleep by playing loud music into the wee hours. One evening, I made the experiment of trying to influence them to stop this behavior by the exertion of my will in meditation. The result was surprising—a lit firecracker was thrown through the open transom above my door and exploded. The shock to my system, when so relaxed, put me into a strange state of consciousness in which my ill will became objectified as a sinister beckoning presence in my dorm room. I ended up wrestling with it all night in a half-awake state until I'd bled off the feelings that created it and awoke.

Smoley: What dangers are there in trying to navigate the astral plane?

Leland: In an early article, HPB wrote of "the philosophical necessity of there being in the world of Spirit, as well as the world of Matter, a law of the survival of the fittest" (Blavatsky, Collected Writings 1:289). If we're going to explore higher planes, we need to keep this in mind—and make sure we're "the fittest." The same would be true of any expedition in the wilderness of physical reality. We try not to be part of the food chain.

Being the fittest would mean studying the rich literature on planes, bodies, and beings produced by the world's religions and mystics, including HPB, Besant, and Leadbeater. Trying to understand the similarity of function that underlies the often dissimilar imagery helps us to develop our inner senses (for example, recognizing that Hindu devas are similar in function to Jewish, Christian, and Muslim angels). It would also mean knowing how to protect ourselves against undesirable astral influences, or negative entities.

Perhaps the best way to think about the astral plane is that is presents a set of initiatory challenges we must confront to achieve the higher plane where he Masters await us. Every moral and emotional weakness will be tested on the astral plane. If we're possessed by such weaknesses in physical life, we may draw negative entities to ourselves on the astral plane, They may try to consume or possess us. If we learn how to deal effectively with such beings there, then we learn to master ourselves here— and vice versa. Thus the best protection against the dangers of the astral plane, as many Theosophical teachers have said, is purity of thought, feeling, and action.

According to Besant, as mystics, we may achieve the higher planes by meditation and selfless service. The practice of brotherhood with all beings gently draws to us higher contacts and opens us up to them. However, as occultists, we may seek to understand and master each plane of being. This is where the initiatory challenges of the astral plane come in. Those who fear such challenges may not feel ready for them—and for good reason, since fear itself will draw to them fearful experiences on the astral plane. For them, the path of the mystic is not only a safer way to the high teachers, but also a safer set of methods for a spiritual organization to promote. Thus it has become a primary focus in some Theosophical organizations.

In my opinion, the most radical thing HPB taught was that every level of our consciousness is provided to us by a category of higher beings who mastered that level in previous evolutionary schemes. When she says that our mind was given to us by such higher beings, she means that our mind is the result of participating in that higher consciousness. If we're separated from it through selfishness, we have a limited use of the mind. If we dissolve that separation through the practice of brotherhood with all beings, we become one with those who create and sustain our consciousness at the mental level. We thereby become one with the universal mind as expressed by those beings. They aren't our servants, as in black magic; and we're not their slaves, as in possession. Yet all they know is now our knowledge, and we become active agents on the physical plane in their task of sustaining and furthering the evolution of all beings. This is what it means to become an adept, at least at the mental level.

The astral plane represents the same challenge at a lower level. The so-called negative entities we encounter there are aspects of our own desires and emotions that stand in the way of oneness with the beings who create and sustain the emotional level of existence. They bar us from the great teachers until we have mastered our emotions.


References

Blavatsky, H.P. Collected Writings. Edited by Boris de Zirkoff. 15 vols. 
    Wheaton: Theosophical Publishing House, 1977-91.
Theosophical Glossary. London: Theosophical Publishing Society, 1892.


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