Channeling is like my second full-time job. I don't get paid for it in money, but the satisfactions of it and the at times incredible stuff I see flowing from my fingers onto the keyboard and screen are beyond price. I have been at it for nearly twenty years now. Among those with whom I've had contact are William and Catherine Blake, Stanley Kubrick, William Butler Yeats, Epictetus, Friedrich Nietzsche, and Joan of Arc. In addition to these well-known historical figures are the dozens of ethereal humans, archons, angels and occasional non-human entity which comprise the Outlands Community. Nowadays the path to channel is always open so that I am in continuous contact with many entities; this contact even extends down into my dreamlife. The rare times I need or want to be alone, I am alone; but this is rare, for I have fallen in love, and I do mean I have fallen in LOVE with a number of the ethereal humans. However, as that is actually a separate subject, and I wish to write about my experience of channeling, I shall reserve for the future some words about my life with the Community members with whom I am in love.

I was not aware that I was channeling when I began to channel. I was always reading things by Epictetus, Marcus Aurelius, Saint Justin Martyr, Friedrich Nietzsche and William Blake. I've kept a (handwritten)journal since 1973, and when I transferred my personal journal to the word processor in April of 2005, I had left off on page 5500 something in the handwritten one. This blog is a kind of extension of them both. But I digress - in the 1980's I would wish that I could have thirty minutes in which to talk with these worthies, ask them questions and so forth. It was inevitable, as a writer, that I one night began an imaginary conversation with Saint Justin Martyr. I found myself writing furiously when it came to Justin's part in this imaginary conversation, almost as if I could not stop the flow of words. A veritable flood-tide.

Now, any writer will tell you, they get to analyze their writing style, looking for faulty grammar, over-repetition of favorite words, pet expressions and the like. Oftentimes such analysis is the precursor to editing what has been written, because writers seldom write anything that cannot use a little polishing and clarification: something may not be expressed clearly, or logic may be lacking in something; occasionally, a fiction writer will find he or she has contradicted the basic facts upon which the fiction is based. In analyzing "Justin's" words, I often found myself saying, "This is not my writing style." Curious, I set about rereading his two substantial works, the Apologia and the Dialogue with Trypho, a Jew.

My conclusion was that I had so well absorbed his works that I was able unconsciously to mimic it quite well. I am certain that there are any number of psychologists who would agree with that conclusion. Yet, in the back of my mind was the nagging sense of there having been a presence, someone other than myself who was doing the writing. This must be experienced to be understood - or believed. Also, I should mention that at that time (1980) I was getting over a severe case of born-again Christianity; in that context I would have understood "channeling" as "mediumship" and a snare of the Devil. I went on to "mimic" the writing-styles of Epictetus, Marcus Aurelius (somber!), Jan van Ruuysbroek and eventually, Fritz Nietzsche himself. It was in such a dialogue with Fritz, with him gently asking me questions, that I was lead to the conclusion that I was not a Christian. That was a very scary episode for me, and the presence was intense - it was almost like I could feel his hand on my shoulders as I penned the words, "I am not a Christian" in my journal. And yet it was a flood of relief. I was no longer a prisoner to that which is, as the Church has created it, a system of spiritual slavery so awful, so total, it is no wonder that many people will tell you: "Hell is this life! There is no Hell when you die, it's right here and now!" I do not, by the way, subscribe to this view. When a person dies, they take with them what they are; if they are a bundle of fear and rage, it is all that is needed to get the brimstone burning in the afterlife. Word to the wise here, folks.

Since that time, my knowledge of what channeling is and how others experience it has grown a tad. If you are curious, may I highly recommend Jon Klimo's book Channeling. It is a thick book, but it has the delightful feature that you can dip into it anywhere and come away better informed. My own personal experience, that is, reading other people's channeled works, were those of the late Jane Roberts' "Seth" material. Seth was an entity, a very charming and wise entity, who made endless variations on the very simple and very true theme, "You create your own reality." Jane Roberts herself, as she came across in her various books with and without Seth, was a no-nonsense poet and writer who often wrote about how her days passed as she created this or that book; she was a very down-to-earth, almost funky woman you would really liked to have met. Alas I did not; I have channeled her VERY briefly on two or three occasions, but each time I got the impression of someone who is having so much fun, wherever she is, that all she could say was "Hi! Love Ya! Bye!" in a way that made me giggle each time. If it means anything, when I gave away/sold my library of 7000+ books, among the few I kept were all of hers. To me, they are precious.

The first time that I knowingly and willfully channeled someone, it was a person that today I would not for the life of me do again. The fact that I did channel Vlad Dragool is more a reflection of how my life was at the time. But that is another story for another time. As are my thoughts about channeling in relation to the Bible, the Qu'ran and the Book of Mormon. I am certain that my opinions will be upsetting to some, but when I do get around to writing that one, it will not be done to piss people off. Hopefully that will be understood.