From: dicksilk@gmail.com   
      
   Last night / very early this morning, I had a moment to let the dog out around   
   4 AM or so.  For whatever reason(s) I was unable to simply get back to sleep,   
   so I meditated instead (it's *great* for 4 AM moments when the mind is alert   
   and active, rather    
   than gravity-drained and tired.)   
      
   The primary meditation was on "Resist NOT evil" (from Matthew 5:39) and it's   
   application to fears and troubles in general, by following "Resist NOT" with   
   "Love the enemies of you" (verse 44) aka 1❤️0— so when you "Resist NOT"   
   the value of R becomes    
   0 (as that which *was* in a state of resistance, R=1, becomes NOT 1, thus 0)   
   and 0 times *anything* = 0, thus, whatever it was that was being resisted no   
   longer exists.  All resistance, conflict, struggle, it all simply no longer   
   exists.  It's gone.     
   Peace.  So by applying the 1❤️0 ("Love thine enemies") teaching, whatever   
   it was that is no longer resisted becomes loved.   
      
   For example: [Resist NOT gravity] becomes 0G thus 1❤️0 brings one to the   
   0-gravity condition, which some folk may consider to be non-physical, aka "out   
   of body," but for me, it's just a meditative state of mind.   
      
   This state of meditation lasted a *good* 2 hours or so.  Getting back to sleep   
   was really not even a concern, but it did happen, nonetheless, and that led to   
   a few interesting dream events, starting with "the back door entrance."   
      
   Starting with some "backstory"— on October 16ᵗʰ, 1981, I pulled something   
   of a psychological no-no on Gina, leading her to *think* I was off somewhere,   
   likely severely injured and dying (pretty much not so easy to do *these* days,   
   as phones have    
   caller ID and GPS and all that stuff) because I wanted to *hear* as to whether   
   or not she cared for me, if any, if at all, checking to see *if* she loved me.   
      
   What I got was more of a response in the form of {worry / concern} but simply   
   at a standard level of response, nothing elevated beyond the sense of being   
   helpless to do anything.   
      
   Well, that was Fall of '81, and even though things failed to fully repair   
   during that time period (as I was dealing with a *tremendous* load of guilt,   
   shame, insecurity and the plain stupidity of youth at the time) I found myself   
   suspended from MTSU from    
   the end of Spring Semester '82 until the Fall semester of '84, and was   
   prohibited from even stepping foot on campus during that suspension.    
   Consequently, I couldn't find Gina's phone number, and it *never occurred to   
   me* to *write* to her and resume    
   communication.  Just ignorant.  Stupid, ignorant, the amount of negative   
   adjectives I could dish out could not amount to the depth of despair to which   
   I had sunk.   
      
   When Fall of '84 came around and I *still* couldn't bring myself to deliver a   
   complete sentence to her, things even got worse.  I'd been distracted by a   
   "sweet, young thang" during those 2 years, and Gina had apparently developed   
   something with a    
   visiting Canadian in her home town of Pulaski.  Apparently, she married him   
   around August of '85 (which I somehow discovered around the Spring of '86) and   
   so I (reluctantly) married Beth (Stone) in December of '86.   
      
   So then it dawned on me, that if I *ever* wanted to be married to Gina, *no   
   matter what,* that was NOT possible as long as I was married to Beth, so I   
   asked Beth to divorce me (around the summer, possibly June of '87) and the   
   divorce was final around    
   August of '87.  She later had the marriage annulled by the Catholic Church   
   (which she had joined) so technically, I was divorced once, logically never   
   married / still single (as the State considered it a marriage, 1, yet the   
   Church considered it null and    
   void, 0, thus 1 AND 0 = 0.)   
      
   There was a bit of insanity that I had to deal with during the breakup,   
   divorce and aftermath of dealing with Beth.  Coming *out* of that insanity, I   
   had *THE VISION* of visions, an astral body time-bridge that spanned a number   
   of decades (and in some    
   ways is "still counting/continuing" starting from around the time period of   
   the spring or summer of 1988:)   
      
   The journey involved: driving northward along Cason Lane *back BEFORE* it was   
   developed into a neighborhood:  back then, all it had were farm fields.  There   
   was a tornado off in the distance to the left, only it was stationary.  (That   
   tornado later    
   turned out to be from a *period* of my relationship with Joyce, circa 2011~13,   
   when she decided to move into her grandmother's home at 1716 Kaitlyn Court,   
   maps.app.goo.gl/nBAo2anuSBD7xbaW9 .  The tornado had been hovering in the   
   dream *precisely* over    
   the spot *in the field* where Granny's house was *later* located at that   
   *future* address.)   
      
   The (astral) dreamer (in this case, my autobiographical self) kept driving,   
   but everything went totally black, then came into a scene (as if flying, like   
   a light on a current of air, being pulled along a string or thread) wherein I   
   passed by a young boy    
   who had been bouncing on a bed but stopped to look straight at me (years   
   later, that boy would turn out to be Charles) and I *think* the dreamer said   
   to the boy, "I love you," then everything went back to black, then in another   
   scene, I was driving, and    
   there were 3 children (two boys and a girl) in the back seat and the narrative   
   mind told me they were my children, which alarmed me to some extent, but the   
   voice told me not to worry— they were going to be given up for adoption   
   (which they later were    
   IRL, circa 2014) then back to black again, and by this time, my dreamer-mind   
   had come to expect that there would be yet another scene, coming into light,   
   and sure enough, this is where the dreamer was in the *front, right, passenger   
   seat* of a vehicle (   
   aka "shotgun") likely either a 2-door or 4-door, and the car was pulling into   
   the driveway at 1103 Scottland Drive (my childhood home) and here's where   
   things get *really* interesting:   
      
   The dreamer hopped *out* of the passenger side as the car was turning left to   
   enter the driveway, as if the driver had braked to let the dreamer hop out.    
   Funny thing is, I can remember the *feel* of braking the car (from the   
   driver's side) an instant    
   before the dreamer hopped out on the right.   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)