On keeping new members

Visitors decide whether or not to stay in groups, organizations and religious communities by asking the following questions: “Will you remember my name? Will you accept me as I am? Will you listen to me? Will you care?”
Mind you, potential members don't ask these questions openly.
Established members would like to answer: “Of course, we will remember your name. Of course, we will accept you as you are. Of course, we will listen to you. Of course, we will care.”
But our visitors who never return are those who know what our answers were. Members of the group didn't remember their names. They didn't accept them as they were. They didn't listen to them. And they didn't care.

Rereading Croiset the Clairvoyant

I'm rereading the 1964 edition of J. H. Pollack's paperback on Gerard Croiset (1909 – 1980), who showed unusual psychic powers. "The Man Who Mystifies Europe" used his gifts to find missing objects, documents and people, repair machinery, and heal the sick, solve crimes. "The Dutchman with the X-Ray Mind" was one of the earliest "guinea pigs" of parapsychology and was the subject of Professor Tenhaeff at the University of Utrecht.

It's humbling to read what "the Miracle Man from Holland" did. It's more puzzling that some people are still so vehemently opposed to discussions and even mention of the things that Croiset and people like him have lived and died for. Totally baffling.

As I reread the life story of the man with the radar brain, an ordinary event in his life spoke most to me. It was in 1958. He was flying from Milan, Italy, to the Schipol Airport in Amsterdam. A heavy fog forced his plane to land in Brussels, Belgium. When the news of the landing was announced, "The Wizard of Utrecht" burst into a hearty laughter. The Dutch woman passenger sitting next him looked at him as if he were crazy.

"Why am I laughing?" Croiset asked the woman. "Here I am, the great Croiset, and I couldn't see that we wouldn't be able to land in Amsterdam!"

The author comments: "This ability to laugh at his own antics and to freely admit it when he is wrong are perhaps Croiset's most endearing qualities."

I'm still working on that.

Message from the other side

I met a young man today who told me that his mother had died ten months ago. Dan had asked his Mom to send him a sign if there's an afterlife. Here's Dan's story.

When Mom was getting ready to die, I had this conversation with her.

"Mom, I've had two near death experiences. You know the stories. The first one happened when I was 18. While playing football, I fell face down and was seriously injured. I saw my body lying on the field. The next thing I saw was my going through a spinning tunnel at the end of which a man in glowing white light took me through a door into a beautiful cave. He told me to go back to this physical plane to let people know that we should respect Mother Earth and all living things. You remember I told you this story after the accident, Mom?"
"Yes," she nodded.
"The second near death experience I had was when a Cadillac hit my car when I was coming back from the bank. Again I saw myself outside of my body. The man in white light who had taken me into the cave the first time appeared to me again and asked me what I was doing about the message he had given me. I said I was doing nothing with it. He then said I should return to my body and accomplish my life's mission."
I looked into Mom's eyes.
"Mom, sometimes it feels as if I've made these stories up. I'd really appreciate it if you could find a way to confirm to me that there's life after death when you're gone. That what I saw was true."
"How can I do that? Maybe there's no way to contact you when I'm gone."
"Do something extraordinary that will prove to me that you're alive in a different form on the other side."
After some brainstorming, Mom and I agreed that she would find a way to repeatedly turn the electricity off and on.
When the time came, my son was holding one of Mom's arms and I was holding the other.
"I said, Mom, if you need our permission to go, it's ok to go whenever you're ready. You're going to meet Grandpa and Grandma and your daughter who left us earlier. She might even come to escort you."
Mom's face beamed with a broad smile. She gazed into the ceiling as if she was looking at someone coming towards her. All of a sudden, my son and I saw her chest rise as if it was being inflated. When it lowered, she was gone. We felt a loosening of her hands in our palms.
"Oh my God,” my son exclaimed.
Mom died in the middle of November last year.
One May evening we were out on the other end of our farm getting ready for a barbecue with friends. From a distance we saw houses shining with interior light. Then my son said, "Look, Dad," as he pointed to our house about a mile away.
At first I didn't see anything. Then as I looked closer, I saw a dark cloud moving into the house. As it hovered over the house, the lights went off while every other house around still had electricity. There was nobody in the house.
The lights came back on again. Then off. And the dark cloud melted into the night.
A few days later I remembered what Mom and I had discussed.
Was it Mom coming to let me know that there's life on the other side of the curtain?