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The Zohar

person holding book walking

I made my way into the small study room on the second floor of the home office where I am working. A large window with a creaky floor allowed the winter air to come in and around the walls, which were ironically covered with papers and books, conference dues on my desk and other items of meditation supplies. Something was drawing me in.

Two large wooden doors with candles served as the entrance into the study. Beyond they were ornate banjos with pews. I entered slightly drowsier than I thought I was into a welcoming environment. The women on the other hand, seemed to come straight from the desert and their yuk videotaped everything.

They were dressed simply in white top and pants. Their faces were relaxed, their eyes closed most of the time and they placed their hands lovingly on the arms of the two teachers. They transmitted through telepathy the teachings and philosophies of Hinduism: “Seek serenity and pursue wisdom.” “Blessed are the enlightened ones.”

Retrieved from my thoughts – or perhaps placed there by an invisible third party – an out-of-body, or just a random thought, I confronted the women teachers and their students. “Why do you not practice what you preach and teach,” I asked.

All looked at me with confusion. They were accustomed to handling crises, so they asked me what sort of philosophies I practiced.

“Quantum physics, imaginary numbers, that will all be explained to you in our next class,” I said, trying to make light of the situation. They were unhelpful, in my opinion.

“You sound like a stalker,” one of the teachers said to me. I denied the motive and stated my case, that I was there to observe and not to interfere.

“Stop!” one of the women stopped the class and asked me if I was heckling the teachers. I explained that I was there to observe, but that I had come with a higher purpose in mind. I explained that I had come to Century Life School to learn and prepare, but that once my plan was established I wanted to be off the streets at the end of the class. I saw their faces fall and they returned to their books. I finished my radio reading and went outside to fight the Buster BeightChopper.

The Buster Beightchopper was a massive dog that lived in our back yard. It had been a mainstay of the local dogfight circuit for years. It had been known to stop traffic by bursting through a barbed wire fence as a means of escape. A few months past I had tried to enter its small yard expecting to observe its supernatural powers, but it billowed its hind legs in my direction and began to walk toward me. I know that it was putting on a good show, but I felt no joy in my heart for it. In my experience with dogs as a child, they do not listen to commands like that. They act first and foremost on instinct.

I stopped my futile outside of the house to see what was happening. The Buster Beight Chopper was gone. The large dog had gone to face the other dogs. I waited by the gate until police officers arrived with assistance. The chained dog was not suffering an illness or injury. It had not been impounded by a stuffing ege stand. The officers saw what I was attempting to do and they dismantled thestructed fence to investigate. A few moments later I was running through the gate alone. I felt the festive presence of nearly two hundred people surrounding me. I was relieved to feel that I was not alone in this ordeal. I gave thanks to those supportive people who assisted me in keeping a watchful eye on the situation, and who had offered ideas of assistance to theDog Whisperer.

I went and looked at my wards. Many looked healthier and happier than they ever had. Others appeared to be under increasing amounts of stress. The dogs were all very friendly and well socialized, but there appeared to be an unusual amount of barking going on. I couldn’t explain it, so I didn’t pretend to know what was going on. In the darkness of the night, a voice was talking to me. He said,”You see those on the side doing the healing?” “Yes,” I answered. He said to me, “They are having some difficulty healing.” In the days following, I sought several medical consultation centers. I was well aware of their philosophies and practices, and wouldn’t want to become a client. I was still half asleep, though. I didn’t know this half awakenfulness and clarity would last.

I was called by a friend to lunch. An offhand conversation led to the topic of SpiritAnimals.

Spiritual Discernment