Stalking Vol 2: The Bridge of Reason
"I asked K ha- lib who this special man was," Bonnie said to us. "He told me that the
musician had finished his lessons in physical life, but seeing the nature of the times ahead he
chose to return and contribute in his own way. He chose his appearance because, in spite of the
talent he intended to bring with him and further develop, a world of cosmetic values would never
aggrandize him. He would also have to trust that the Silent Knowledge of his entire history
would carry him through a task he would not remember was his challenge."
"What was it?" Jenny said.
"It was his desire to bestow upon others moments of peace, free from the social stigmas he
would understand from his own life. His approach was to offer quality entertainment to those
whose circumstances did not allow them access to the elite, and to display his kind of
unassuming beauty to people whom society had thrown away. In this way, his audiences felt
better about themselves, and for those moments the world was better off."
This ended the double lesson, and my second week of training in which K ha- lib did not
overtly deny the existence of the legacy check...
I was physically exhausted, emotionally distraught, and bearing the weight of a secret that I
dared not tell anyone: the out-of-body experience had been looked at with reserve by the few
whom I had told, but a hearing a voice? Nope.
The first of the formal teaching dreams* about my alleged quest began that night. Upon
reflection, this made perfect sense because I had just ‘met’ my Higher Self \ teacher on the
physical plane, so finding myself in his classroom was not a surprise… which later worried
The first thing I noticed upon becoming aware that I was dreaming—an observation that
created a psychological separation between the waking and dreaming me—was that the dreaming
version was calmly accepting of events: I recollected my dreaming exper iences through this
secondary point of view—somewhat detached, as if I had a foot in both camps of here and
Having been here before, I also knew that he—that is I, was smarter than when I was awake,
because I always understood more complicated principles in this state of being than I otherwise
should. My dream-state companions over the years had always treated me this way, as well.
Zzzz: We stood unseen beside a fountain in a square, as the world passed us by in slow
motion. I somehow understood that, from within the fabric of this psychological timeframe, all
locomotion appeared this way due to the difference in vibratory speed between physical
existence and the true speed of my energy consciousness. I knew that millions of physically
focused beings were having experiences such as mine; they called it dreaming and they may or
may not remember them, or necessarily know that they were being taught in them.
A man of indeterminate age stood comfortably next to me: I knew that I knew him—had met
him countless times this way—only then that it was Phillip. He glanced at me casually: I knew
was important to him in ways I could not fathom, yet I was unable to reciprocate. The best I
could do was to feel secure.
He allowed a moment for me to finish orienting to my circumstance.
"They don’t know what they are doing," I finally said, signaling that I had accepted where I