From the Editor's Desk Fall 2013

Printed in the Fall 2013 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Smoley, Richard. "From the Editor's Desk" Quest  101. 4 (Fall 2013): pg. 122.

Richard SmoleyWhat is it like to be a bat? Bats, as many people know, have a sense that we don't. They are able to bounce sonar—microsound waves—off objects to help them navigate, and they use this to supplement their sense of sight. This is called echolocation. Human beings understand the principle of sonar and use it in many applications: the navy uses it to sound the depths of oceans. But we ourselves don't have a sense of echolocation. Therefore we will never be able to know what it's like to perceive with this sense.

This, in sum, is the argument of a famous article by the philosopher Thomas Nagel. (Its title is the first sentence of this editorial.) Originally published in 1974, it's one of the most influential philosophical articles to have appeared in recent decades. Nagel contends that we can know everything about how the brain works from a neurological point of view—just as we can explain how sonar works—but there is nothing as yet to explain how and why this relates to subjective experience. As one psychologist put it, "The brain resembles the mind about as much as a telephone number resembles its subscriber."

Nagel's argument, now nearly forty years old, has never been refuted. Since then, neurology has explained a great deal of how the brain works, but it has never explained, or come close to explaining, how the mind arises out of the brain. Nor has it told us if the mind can exist independently of it, although materialists tend to blithely assert that it cannot.

In fact at present the field of consciousness studies is faced with two diametrically opposite propositions: (1) the mind is the result of brain functions; (2) the mind is more than the brain and can exist outside of it. Both seem to be true, and both are backed up by substantial evidence. The second proposition, it is true, is based on anecdotal evidence (that is, these experiences are onetime events and are not repeatable in a scientific sense). But at some point enough anecdotal evidence piles up so that it cannot be ignored. Eben Alexander's bestsellingProof of Heaven, in which the author, a neurologist, tells about his experience of other realities while he was in a coma and his higher brain was not functioning, is one of the most recent of many examples. (Eben, by the way, will be a featured speaker at the TS's Summer National Convention in July 2014.)

What does all this show? Theosophy, like most esoteric traditions, sets out several planes of existence. While these don't correlate exactly between the various systems, there is a rough correspondence, and the similarities are usually more striking than the differences. In terms of the mind-brain problem, we could say that the neurological operations of the brain correspond to the physical, or lowest, plane—the only one whose existence science admits. The inner, subjective sense—how a bat, or a human being, experiences the world—could be equated with the astral plane.

Classic Theosophy speaks of a mental plane as well, this being associated with thoughts, while the astral plane is associated with emotions and desires. But in the discussion here I will lump them together under the term "astral plane," partly for the sake of simplicity, partly because it strikes me as extremely hard to posit any radical separation between thoughts and feelings.

In any event, the astral and the physical planes overlap or coincide: an emotion, we're told, corresponds to certain brain responses (in the amygdala, if I remember correctly). But they operate in quite different ways, and apparently by different laws. The neurology of the brain works electrochemically—by a certain sequence of chemical and electrical impulses. Subjectively, however, we do not experience these impulses. Instead we experience the contents of consciousness as a kind of flow—one thought leads to an emotion, the emotion to another thought, and so on. It is no coincidence that one of the most ancient and universal symbols for this astral plane is water. We even acknowledge its liquid nature with such phrases as "stream of consciousness."

This astral level is also likened to the sea. And this points to an extremely important, and often overlooked, aspect of the human condition. We live in this sea like fish, and, perhaps like fish, we are usually unaware of this medium that surrounds us. We do not even differentiate it from ourselves in the deepest sense. We take the ocean of thoughts, emotions, and images that we swim in to be identical to ourselves, to be ourselves.Hence when I am struck by an overpowering emotion, I often fail to step back from it and realize that I am not that emotion.

How I know that I am not? By the simple fact that I can step back in my mind's eye and look at this emotion. If you can look at something, it means that you are not there. You are somewhere else; thus it follows you must be something other than that thing. It requires some insight, and a little bit of training, to come to this realization, but I believe it is one of the central ideas that the esoteric traditions are trying to teach us. There is something in us that sees, and because it sees, it necessarily can never be seen; but we can never be apart from it. It is a funny coincidence that in English the words "I" and "eye" sound the same—or is it a coincidence?

Richard Smoley


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.

 

 


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