A Selection from True Stories of Spiritual Power
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I was thirty-five years old and had been meditating three to four hours per day for two years. Having recently been laid off from my job on the first of December, I was ecstatic when a friend of mine found a consulting job for me starting December 10th and lasting for two weeks. I figured that would get me through the end of the year.
What I did not know was that the next four days would profoundly change my spiritual worldview. The formation of a new set of operating assumptions would start with this simple consulting assignment.
I became a temporary and short-term consultant for a large national consulting firm. My task was to go to the Department of Labor in downtown Washington, D.C., and help them straighten out their property book.
Monday morning I arrived at the right time and the right place near the Labor Department Building. My friend and business contact escorted me into the huge building housing most of the Department of Labor. Inside we entered an elevator that shot up ten stories and then opened, revealing a labyrinth of cubbyholes that stretched out in front of me for over a square city block. Although people moved this way and that as they chattered softly, nobody looked at us at all. Behind the elevator was a hallway where my friend lead me, in a somewhat bewildered state, through a marble jungle trail for eight minutes around endless turns and through faceless intersections. Finally, we entered a normal office setting, and I was introduced to Bob, my immediate supervisor. With a cheery goodbye, my friend disappeared.
Bob escorted me to a desk that was two desks behind his own. There were no partitions separating them. Bob pointed to a stack of loose-leaf binders and explained that this stack of property books was from the Labor Department offices in Denver, Dallas, Kansas City and St. Louis. Their contents and entries must be checked against what was shown in the Department’s own property books: two stacks of books, each 3-4 inches thick. The job would easily take me two weeks.
I grabbed a book from each stack, made sure that they were from the same city, and opened each to the first page. For some unknown reason, I glanced up at Bob. At the same time, Bob turned around and glanced at me. A shaft of white light came out of the middle of Bob’s forehead and hit me in the solar plexus. I was stunned and froze for a second like a rabbit in the headlights. My mind wanted to erase the incident. It did not fit with my model of the universe. People do not go around sending out light from their foreheads. I quickly concluded that I must be in error. It could not have happened. Cognitive dissonance was setting in.
In the same office and off to my right was a suite of three cubicles
lined up along the length of the office. Each cubicle had its entrance
positioned so that you could not see the desk of the person inside. As I
was concluding that maybe I had either meditated too long or not enough
that morning, I heard a voice from the cubicle directly opposite my desk.
"Well, Bob must have gotten him already by now. It’s awful
quiet over there."
I wondered to myself, "Now that’s odd. It almost sounded like they were talking about me."
"Yup, that’s right" came the audible reply from behind the cubicle wall.
"Oh my God," I thought, is it possible that. . . no! ‘Get a grip!’ I thought to myself. It is almost as if someone was hearing me think.
"That’s right," said the voice from across the way. "We’re gonna get real shook up now," said the voice.
I sat very still not knowing exactly what to think next. My every thought had been responded to by a comment that seemed to correlate to what I had just been thinking the immediate previous moment. I knew it wasn’t possible, but it had been so startling that I now had to collect myself and calm down. I made a mental decision to relax and started taking long, deep diaphragmatic breaths.
"Well, I guess we’re gonna calm down. Can’t be true, huh?" The reply came instantly.
I went into a panic.
"There we go!" came the response from behind the partition. It was not unfriendly, it was just RIGHT THERE WITH ME.
I grabbed my wits, grabbed a property book and a pen and desperately tried to concentrate on the contents swimming before me. Item 1 . . . Item 1, check. Item 2 . . . Item 2, check. I was sweating profusely.
"Now there’s a good course: get to work. That’s the best possible thing under these conditions isn’t it?"
Now another voice chimed in. It was a woman’s voice. "Oh stop it. You are not being very nice."
This voice sounded almost like music. It was so sweet to the ear. So delicate. So clear. I could not help but sneak a look over to the partition to see if I could catch a face. At that very moment, an exquisitely beautiful black woman in her late thirties came around the partition at the back of the office. She gave me a beatific smile. I felt as if I had been bombarded by a love bomb. She came over to me and introduced herself.
"Hello, my name is Elizabeth. I understand you are going to be helping us straighten out our property book."
"That’s right" I stammered in reply. I haltingly introduced
myself. I felt tongue-tied and bashful in her presence.
She reached out and took me by the hand. "Come on. Let me take you
down the hall and introduce you to some of the other people."
Bob, who had been hearing everything, grunted. He then turned around briefly, gave me another shot of light to the gut and turned back to his desk.
Elizabeth tugged at my hand and pulled me out into the hall. She started walking slowly down the hall and waited until I fell in beside her.
"I know it’s a little disconcerting for people who haven’t
been here before. We are all sort of like one great big family."
I managed a weak "Yes."
"Where I am going to take you," she went on, "is to the chief scientist’s office. He is the head of this division." We walked into an office that was smaller than the last one with only one occupant. The secretary at the front desk sat guard over the entrance to the office at the rear. The two women exchanged glances without a word and Elizabeth led me through the outer office to the entrance of the rear office. The door was open, but Elizabeth knocked on the sill around the door. A deep bass voice within growled "Yeah, Yeah, come on in."
Elizabeth walked in. I followed her timidly. There behind a large desk
was a brawny man with his chair cocked back and his feet up on the corner
of the desk. His hands were clasped behind his head. "What have we
got here?" he bellowed.
"What we’ve ‘got’ is someone new who is going to help us
with our property book mess." Elizabeth was ever so faintly
reproving.
The man took his hands from behind his head and looked sternly at me and said, "I don’t want any mistakes. I want to know where all that equipment is, and it better all be there." The quality of the voice startled me. It had a largeness to it, a penetrating quality that made me feel quite ill at ease without knowing why. It wasn’t exactly a threat, but I felt intimidated anyway.
Elizabeth said, "Well at least you could be a little more friendly."
"I am being friendly" he bellowed again. "This is the way I am when I am being friendly. You should see me when I’m NOT friendly." He gave the barest smile, and I gave the barest smile back.
Elizabeth said, "Oh, C’mon!"
I thought to myself as we walked out of the office, "This guy is a real tyrant."
From behind me there came his bellowing voice, "You bet. I can be a real tyrant when I need to be," echoing my exact thoughts.
I barely caught it in time as my bladder released a small amount of urine that trickled down my leg. Behind me came a soft choking chuckle as the man tried to suppress a laugh but realized it was impossible, so he let it out a little. I was mortified. I give him credit for at least trying to suppress his laugh. For my part, I hoped desperately that there was not a small wet spot near my crotch that would be an embarrassing giveaway of the highest magnitude.
Elizabeth looked at me compassionately. It was so pure that her look did not embarrass me in the least. She finally spoke. "Oh, don’t pay any attention to him."
I thought clearly to myself at the time, "They can all read my mind."
Elizabeth looked me right in the eye and said, "We’re very close here. As a result, our communication is very good."
I paused for a moment and then stammered, "I must tell you, I don’t know how to act."
Elizabeth looked at me. Here eyes shifted focus slightly, and as she spoke, I felt a warm glow in my heart. "Why, you don’t have to act any way at all. Just think of yourself as. . . one of us."
At that I fought back an urge to cry. There was a warmth, an acceptance, an acknowledgement, and a genuine caring in her voice that I had never ever quite felt before. . . anywhere in my entire life. I had no reply. The thought that I could be an intimate part of a group with such a combination of warmth and spiritual power caught me completely by surprise. I fought back the tears.
Elizabeth could see both my shock and my discomfort even in the midst of the wonderful feelings I was experiencing. She reached out and grabbed my hand. "Let’s walk back down the hall." We began to walk silently. Finally, some other people came up. Elizabeth introduced me around. I nodded and repeated their names without any of it being stored into memory. I was just too raw. "Thomas is here to help us straighten out our property book," she went on. The people were genuinely friendly and supportive. They indicated that they were "so glad you are here" . . . and "we really need people like you". . . There was an ever so slight twinkle in their eyes as they spoke. Sensing my growing discomfort, Elizabeth continued, "Thomas is feeling just a little self-conscious" to which they nodded their heads in assent and said things like "Yes, I know . . . It sometimes is like that when you are new in a group of people who are like you. And close . . . as we are"
By this time I could barely manage "Hello . . . how are you . . . glad to see you" . . . as my mind raced to explain away that which was becoming more certain in the back of my mind with every sentence. They were all in telepathic contact of some kind - all the time. But of course, that was impossible. But it also seemed like at least one of them could send light out of his forehead and direct it wherever he wanted. That was impossible too. I wanted desperately to run. I wanted to go some place and get back my equilibrium. Sort things out. Be alone for a while.
Then the meeting in the hall was over. I was lead back into the office with Bob and his desk with the property books. As I worked around his desk to sit down, Bob said "Hi," and zapped me again with another bolt of light to the solar plexus.
The rest of the day was spent going over the Denver property book. At intervals of between five and ten minutes, Bob would turn around, ask me how I was doing, and beam over another blast of light. Each time it happened, I could feel something loosen in my solar plexus. The feeling was neither pleasant nor unpleasant, just odd. Before I knew it, it was 4:30. Everyone got up and left.
Shortly after 4:30, while I was gathering items in preparation to depart, a short thin man with mustache and thick glasses came into the room and began to speak with a stutter. "Hi. M-m-my n-name is Jay. I’m in the m-mail r-room. Got time to . . . t-talk a little?"
I thought to myself that the guy looked a little like Arnold Stang, the actor. "Sure" I said, and followed Jay.
As we walked the few steps down the hall to the mailroom, Jay began a conversation. "What are you doing here?"
I began to feel more comfortable and started to explain my role with the property book. I concluded my chatter saying that by the way everyone was talking, things must be pretty mixed up. We arrived in the mailroom and sat in metal folding chairs opposite one another. I began to realize that this was yet another phase of my bizarre experience here at the Department of Labor.
Jay would ask me a question. While I was answering, some kind of energy would come out of Jay’s forehead. Unlike the white light which Bob used, this kind was invisible. But you could hear it. It sounded vaguely like the sound made by release of the fizz from a soft drink that has been shaken in the bottle with a thumb on top to hold in the carbon dioxide. What Jay was doing sounded a little like that to me.
I had not yet had my experience with Laser Swami, so this kind of energy was a completely new experience. I could feel what Jay was doing to the inside of me. Wherever the concentrated glance of Jay landed inside, something released, dissolved and disappeared. The experience was a decidedly pleasant one. I began to feel like I was losing weight . . . only I knew it had nothing to do with pounds. Someone was dusting and cleaning my insides.
I was actually feeling emboldened now. After going through a day of having my privacy seemingly ripped from me and being scared half to death, I decided to try something. I thought to myself, "I’m going to test this." Then I mentally sent a silent message to Jay. "If you are really doing this, let me know. Start working on my back and let me know that’s what you’re going to do." I waited for some response.
Jay said stutteringly, "I’m g-g-going over your shoulder and w-w-work on your b-back now." Jay said it loudly and clearly, even if it was with a stutter. The ‘pssst’ came again and I could feel something playing about in the region of my kidneys. At that moment, all disbelief evaporated. I felt wonder, and my fear returned.
Jay worked on me after work every day for the next week. I began a working hypothesis that what Bob loosened during the day, Jay cleaned out at night.
Thursday night, as we were getting ready to leave, Jay suddenly said, "I guess I won’t be seeing you any more, I have tomorrow off."
I replied, "Oh no, I’m supposed to be here for two weeks and this is only my first week."
Jay made no reply.
The next day I found a major problem in the property book. I documented what I found. I knew it must be reported.
Bob was also off that day, and I had not seen Elizabeth for two days. Finally, I spotted her just after lunch walking past the office and ran out to meet her. I told her about what I had found.
She nodded. "The chief has to hear this right away."
I panicked. What if the chief ‘shot the messenger?’ I was
sure that I did not want to go see the chief scientist again, but
Elizabeth was firm and would hear none of my objections. We found him in
the same office poring over some reports.
I gave him my report as my heart pounded waiting for the roar I was
sure would come. It did not. Instead, the chief smiled. "Found the
problem, did you?" he said.
I said nothing.
"Very good. Very good." The chief was pleased. "Oh, it will definitely be a pain in the butt to fix, but at least now I know. OK, you did your duty, now let me get back to work." he waved us toward the door. We left.
As we walked back to my office Elizabeth could not resist an ‘I told you so.’ She said, "See, he didn’t growl or any of those things you thought might happen." I agreed. Once at my office, Elizabeth looked at me strangely and said "Really nice to meet you." I felt immediately very shy and murmured something similar in reply. She grinned broadly and left waving to me as she walked away down the hall.
Back at my desk, I noticed it was four o’clock and began straightening things up. Suddenly in strode the chief scientist and disappeared in a cubicle across the way. The chief began to speak. "Well, that’s it. We finished our job" The same voice which had taunted me on my first day there, but whom I had never seen, replied. "You mean we’re through with him, just like that?" "That’s right" said the chief scientist, "Contract complete." I instantly knew that they were talking about me.
Summoning all my courage, I sent back a thought to the two men. "I have another week to go on my assignment."
The chief spoke again. "Oh, I know that on paper there seems to be more to this thing, but I got the word that the contract is definitely complete." Then the chief exited the cubicle, waved at me, and left the office.
It was now just 4:30 p.m. Since Jay was off today, I left by myself and went home to spend a quiet weekend. The next morning, my contact at the consulting firm called and said that the Department of Labor had decided that they were going to solve the rest of their property book problems another way. I would not be returning the next week. I tried to protest, by saying that I was just getting into the problems, but my friend interrupted me. "Look, I have no control over this thing at all. These decisions are made at another level. There is nothing left for this one. But I’ll keep you in mind for other projects."
Just like that, the most bizarre set of experiences in my life to date was over. I never saw any of them again. For many years I said nothing to anyone about my experience there. I felt as if I had been given a privileged glimpse into part of "The Grand Design."
These people wielded incredible spiritual power. Yet they were also, in some hard to define way, ordinary. I felt protective of their existence, so I said nothing. Finally, after speaking of it only twice in twenty years, I decided that it is time to break my silence in a public way. People need to know that God’s servants are among us all the time. Even in the U.S. Government.
TEACHING. God’s servants can be any place and everyplace. They may choose to reveal themselves to us or not, as they receive their own guidance. We can be working and walking among them and never know that they are working diligently in our behalf, until and unless they decide or are told that we have a need to know.