|
Originally Posted by Busby
Most of everything that we know, believe or accept as being true stems from other people, from other cultures, from other religions and belief systems, quite clearly from other sources other than oneself. Various books, films, documentaries, YouTube, SF, and so on add fuel to the fire of human imagination and lead many people into a sort of seventh heaven state.
Personally I have long been convinced of the power of human imagination both personal and collective and to the false assumptions to which it has lead.
Logic and the growing information about our physical world shows us that one cannot walk on water, turn water into wine or divide a sea. All these myths, all these Egyptian, Greek and Roman gods, all these Eastern gods and godessess are all figments of man's imagination. The extent to which one believes these stories depends upon the strength of one's imagination and one's preparedness to ignore rational thinking.
However there are moments when our world does offer moments which send us off on a search for what might be called 'reality' and where no amount of logic or rational thought gives rise to the appearance of metaphysical or paranormal experiences - something that just isn't discussed enough.
Personally I have had 16 such moments in my long life, all of which left me dumbfounded as to how such things can be explained.
Here's one and it has to do directly with life after death.
On the 26th of May 1981 I woke in the night, took a quick glance at the clock on my night table, saw that it was almost 4am, thought to myself how it was an unusual time for me to awaken and promptly went back to sleep.
I immediately found myself standing on the pavement of a local hill road watching a very strange contraption coming slowly along the road from my left. As it got nearer I saw it was a trestle on wheels carrying a coffin. This stopped in front of me and I saw that the coffin had a transparent lid and that my Dad was lying there. My first thought was how well he looked, I wasn't shocked or even surprised, it simply was so. When it stopped Dad raised his left arm and opened the lid, he sat up a little and said to me 'I thought I'd tell you that I am very happy and very well'. With that he closed the lid and the thing trundled off up the hill.
I woke up, it was just five past four.
My first tendency was to awaken my wife and tell her that Dad had died. Then I thought how ridiculous it was - after all it was just a dream.
I went back to sleep straight away and was woken at 5.45 by the alarm. I got up and went to work thinking all the time that Dad was dead and I should have said something.
At work I always received a lot of phone calls in the mornings but when the phone rang just before nine I knew immediately it was news about dad.
My wife phoned to say my brother had just phoned to say that dad had died in the night.
I didn't know beforehand that my father was ill, nor that he was in hospital. And we were 1000 kilometres apart. So somehow my father was able to contact me, seemingly after he had died, to tell me quite simply that he was 'well'.
This sort of thing is well-known in the world's literature and exactly that is what we need to concentrate on instead of letting our imaginations run away with us.
|