“And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.”
People often ask me about my childhood, I think, because they want to know if you can learn to be telepathic, or if you have to be born that way. Most are excited to hear that my childhood was quite ordinary; a stereotypical, middle class, 1970’s North American childhood. I lived in the suburbs, ate Campbell’s mushroom soup and drank Cherry Coke. I loved The Brady Bunch, Bewitched, Match Game and Saturday morning cartoons. If there was anything unusual about me, it was my need for constant motion. I ran, skipped, jumped, cart wheeled and did back handsprings endlessly, indoors and out, winter and summer, incessantly talking all the while.
Outwardly, my childhood was very normal, except maybe for an early fascination with bones, the result of breaking my ankle several times; a fascination that probably lead me to anthropology, and an unusual interest in dead people. I did grow up in a tricky home with an emotionally volatile and extremely unpredictable parent. I recall, from a young age, constantly having to project myself home before walking through the front door to get a feel for what I was about to walk into - a survival skill that served me well, and I’m sure contributed to my telepathic abilities later in life.
My answer to the question “Are you born telepathic, or can you learn?” however is “Yes”, and “Yes”. Like many questions about consciousness and telepathy, the answer is far more complicated than the question presupposes. I think we are all born telepathic, very telepathic, but quickly learn to hide or suppress our natural abilities, unless we are encouraged to use them, or forced to. The process happens slowly throughout childhood, the result of many little moments where we discover that grownups don’t understand our telepathic experience of the world, and that these experiences scare them.
As a child, you may remember walking into a room and feeling, or simply knowing that something was off. After inquiring you might have been told “everything’s fine sweetie” and maybe given a worried or stern look. Well meaning parents, myself included, in an effort to protect our children from grown up problems sometimes pretend that everything is fine when it isn’t, leaving kids confused about their psychic senses until they eventually learn to disregard them altogether. In many families, children’s intuitively bang on questions, however innocently asked, can result in a hard and fast lesson in ignoring telepathic ques: children's intuitions all too often hit on family secrets, or shameful, emotionally charged issues that grownups know not to talk about.
The discomfort, alarm or outright fear that many adults react with when children talk about very ordinary psychic experiences is also a clear and unequivocal lesson for children. For example, my friend’s niece once announced to him, while being pushed on a playground swing, that she could see pretty colours around people. My friend was dumbfounded, and didn’t know how to respond. Although he was deeply interested, he was so shocked he couldn’t muster a response. He continued to push her on the swing in silence, a response I’m sure his niece felt and noted. Silence speaks volumes, but sometimes adults react to such information with much more than silence.
Another friend of the family once explained to me that while grocery shopping with her young son, he stopped to listen to an Asian couple carrying on a conversation in another language and announced, “mommy, I understand what they’re saying.” She pulled her son away from the couple in alarm and dragged him out of the store, leaving her groceries behind. I startled her again when I pointed out that it wasn’t surprising that her son had taken taekwondo (a Korean martial art) throughout his youth and had grown up to marry a Korean girl.
The best answer then, to the question of “Are we born telepathic? Or can we learn?” is that we are all born telepathic, very telepathic, and have never stopped being telepathic. We have simply learned to ignore and explain away the telepathic experiences we are all having, all the time. We are immersed in telepathic experiences every moment of our lives, and deeply influenced by our telepathic environments - unconsciously - largely because of our cultural refusal to acknowledge the reality and value of the telepathic part of ourselves in conscious and upfront ways.
Learning to be telepathic, or better said, remembering your natural telepathy, is simply about bringing consciousness to something that is, and has been happening outside of your conscious awareness all the time, your entire life. Sit down, be still, and watch for signs, Native American wisdom tells us. In stillness, under the chatter of our thinking minds, we find our connection to all that is, and our authentic selves. When we bring consciousness to this profoundly intelligent part of ourselves, we can become truly conscious beings who understand ourselves, our unique contributions to the greater whole, and the consequences of our thoughts and actions.
As far as my childhood telepathic experiences go, like most people, I’m sure I have forgotten more than I can recall. I do remember hearing a voice in my head one night as a young child while looking for a snack in the kitchen. The voice was clearly male, but said exactly what I was about to say, just before I would say it. When I mentioned the voice to my parents I saw the look of horror on their faces. That was the moment I shut down my clairaudience, or psychic hearing, a psychic sense that hasn’t returned since for me.
I also remember sitting on the curb when I was eight, wondering where my future husband was. What followed was like a daydream mixed with a knowing that contained more novelty and detail than I thought my imagination capable of. I had a very clear knowing that he wasn’t in Canada; that we were separated by water; that he would eventually move to Canada, and that his name started with R and had three letters. My husband, Rod, was living in Jamaica when I was eight, and although he was born there, he doesn’t look Jamaican as both his parents are Canadian. When I was 15, I remember dreaming about my boyfriend breaking up with me in the rain. The dream was so vivid, when I woke up, I remembered it as if it had just happened. A week later, my boyfriend broke up with me, at night, in the rain, on the street corner from my dream. My dumbfounded reaction wasn’t about the break up. I was so shocked by the perfect unfoldment of my dream, I barely registered the hurt about the breakup itself.
The most dramatic telepathic experience of my life marked the end of my childhood, more than it was part of it. For years I hid the details from everyone including my friends and family out of fear, and because of the crippling anxiety the incident left me with. I was twelve at the time, sitting with two friends, half way up the grassy slope of the man-made hill behind my future high school. The hill was about thirty feet high, nestled between several sports fields and a clump of trees, perfect for tobogganing in the winter or rolling down in the summer. We were playing a game we had played all summer, a game we called trance. We would take turns lying down on our backs and massaging light circles on each other’s temples while we counted down from a hundred. Sometimes we would do little guided meditations, talking to each other about walking through clouds or fields, or whatever came to us. Thinking back, I have no idea where we got the idea, we were simply being kids, playing.
Trance got boring after awhile, and we settled in on the grassy slope to stare at the sky and talk. Sitting in the grass, I remember suddenly feeling uncomfortable, like I needed to get up and move. As I noticed the feeling, I heard a soft female voice in my head say “You have to move, a motorcycle is coming.” I didn’t think. I got up and walked down the hill, into the nearby by trees. Being in the trees eased my stress and the sense of urgency I had been struck with sitting on the slope. I could hear an engine in the distance, but fields around the hill were constantly being mowed, so the engine sound was not out of the ordinary.
From the trees, I caught the flash of the motorcycle flying through the air in my periphery. A young man had decided to cut through the schoolyard on his dirt bike and jump the hill, without checking his landing zone, where my friends still sat. I looked over to see the motorcycle sliding to a stop with one of my friends underneath. I ran over to her, but knew immediately that she was gone, although I didn’t get the call confirming her death until around ten o’clock that night. I turned to find that my other friend had been hit too, and was face down, unconscious, higher up the slope. Suddenly, I realized I was there alone with the man who had just killed my friend.
I ran to a nearby community pool and called 911, then I had to call my friends’ parents. I can still hear the heartbreak in their mother’s voices. I know that some time after I made the phone calls, before the ambulance came, I ran back to my friends, and the guy who had just run them both over. He did his best to calm me down. I think I was in shock. I remember being wrapped in a red blanket and having to give my statement in the back of a police car. I was petrified, and sure that if I had told the police, or anyone else about playing trance, or about the voice in my head, that I would be blamed for the tragedy. I had known a motorcycle was coming, not consciously enough to have saved my friends, but I couldn’t get beyond my own survivor guilt to understand that myself at the time, let alone have explained it to anyone. I told the police everything I remembered, but not the whole truth, not about playing trance or the voice in my head that told me to move.
I walked home alone, pushing two bikes; my own and my dead friend’s. When I got home, I realized that I was home alone, or might as well have been. My parents were in Florida, and my babysitter, ill equipped to handle such a situation, didn’t know what to say. Not that she could have said or done anything to make my nightmare disappear. So I sat on my bed, sad, cold, and traumatized, feeling completely alone. In the quiet, I remember a feeling of connection slowly coming over me, subtly telling me that everything was going to be okay. I remember feeling like I was connected to something or someone I couldn’t see. It felt like religion, or what religion was supposed to feel like; like the connection was real and strong even though I couldn’t see it or hear it. I just knew it. And that was really my introduction to telepathy. A rude slap of an introduction, but an introduction nonetheless.
My fears around sharing the whole truth about what happened on the day of the accident turned out to be well founded. The man who killed my friend, and put my other friend in a coma for months, followed by years of physical and brain injury rehab, was put on trial for criminal negligence. I was called as a witness, and cross examined with an argumentative, accusatory zeal that I’m astonished at even today when I go back and read the court transcripts. I remembered the man on the motorcycle saying “God damn it, I knew this would happen”, as he got up from the crash. I told the police so in my statement right after the accident. My recollection might have been the projected guilt of a traumatized 12 year old, but I really think that this man realized right after the accident that a part of him, the part of himself that we have all been taught to ignore, did know the accident was going to happen before it happened, just like I did.
The defence lawyer grilled me to tears over my police statement in front of the court, insinuating that I had lied, that I might be in trouble for doing so, and insisting that I must have been mistaken, because his client had gone to bible college to study to become a minister, and therefore couldn’t have said such a thing as he was obviously a good person. For a few minutes, I was put on trial more than the motorcyclist, who I now realize was just a kid too, at 19. I can’t imagine the abuse I would have suffered from this lawyer, and the medical professionals that he would have arranged to discredit my recollection, had I told the police about my entire experience and the voice I heard. I imagine the subsequent social ostracism, and the medical treatment to cure me of hearing voices would have been far worse. The outcome of the trial was a $500 fine for trespassing for the motorcyclist and a lifelong distrust of the justice system and organized religion for me.
Today, looking back, I now think that by playing trance just before the accident, I had inadvertently slipped into an altered state of consciousness and a part of me knew what was going to happen before it happened - not consciously or clearly enough to warn my friends - but just enough to feel discomfort and unconsciously save myself. It could have been an angel, a spirit guide, or another being of higher power, whispering in my ear I suppose, and many people will say with certainty that it must have been. However, I don’t recall sensing the presence of another being. I distinctly recall the voice sounding like my own, but older, and I haven’t really worked with spirit guides or angels since; not to say that such beings don’t exist, or that I haven’t had some powerful experiences with beings that fit the description. I just think that overly focusing on such beings can be disempowering, distracting us from understanding and developing our natural abilities.
After working in altered states for years, I can say with a fair degree of certainty that when I was inspired to move because a motorcycle was coming that day, I wasn’t doing anything special, and I wasn’t ‘saved’ by angels or guides. Part of my mind was simply doing what all of our minds do, all the time: collecting and integrating telepathic information about our environment, and the future. I just happened to be in a state of heightened receptivity, and fidgety enough to need to move in response to the information I felt; information that I regretfully didn’t share because of its subtle nature.
The accident was an incredibly hard lesson in learning to pay attention to and trust my inner experiences, even when they seemed random, strange or crazy. It was a lesson that took years of therapy to unpack and forgive myself for learning at such a cost. It is a lesson that served me well in my career as a psychic medium and telepath though, and one that would serve many people well: trust yourself and other’s genuine inner experiences. Our inner experiences are not random or strange, they inform us about our environment, the people we are connected to and the future. Learning to understand and use our inner experiences to guide our actions and decisions, and teaching our children how to do the same, has the potential to save many lives, and that’s just the beginning.
It was 10 years after the accident before I felt safe enough in the world again to get back in touch with the telepathic part of myself, and to trust that nothing bad was going to happen if I did. It happened rather inadvertently, the result of years of listening to various guided meditations to try and calm the anxiety I was riddled with for years after the accident, and as a result of reading Robert Monroe’s book Journeys Out of Body. One day during meditation, after following Monroe’s instructions, I rolled out of my physical frame and looked back at my deeply relaxed body in the bed. To tell you the truth, it was a success that scared me, but it also shifted my perspective on life. Before the experience of looking back at my body, I had identified my body as myself, a machine that was me. Like a car, or any other machine, I would eventually break down and die, if I didn’t manage to wreck myself first. Suddenly, I was viscerally aware that I wasn’t my body; I wasn’t the vehicle, I was the driver, the ‘ghost in the machine’. I knew then that I would walk away from my body when it eventually broke down, from age or accident. I would be okay. I would still exist, and I would still be me, I just wouldn’t have my bodily vehicle anymore.
The relief of knowing that death wasn’t the end should have been profound, and it was a turning point in my life, but part of me just couldn't accept that I would survive death, no matter how real my experiences had been. Part of me continued to doubt, analyze, judge and question the reality of my out of body experiences in a misguided effort to keep me safe through stress, worry and fear. My analytical mind wasn’t willing to trust the 'spiritual' part of my being, let alone relinquish control of my life to it. As a result, I didn’t experiment with out of body journeys very much, or venture very far. I did get good enough at relaxing my body into a state of sleep, while still staying conscious, that I could do so almost at will, even if I didn’t leave my body. It was mostly a matter of making the conscious decision to do it, realizing that I could do it, and letting go of my analytical mind’s fears and doubts about the process. Once you set the intention to have an out of body experience, that’s half the battle. It wasn’t until I watched an episode of the television show Crossing Over, that I discovered I could do anything useful, or objectively validatable in an altered states of consciousness though.
John Edward, one of the best known psychic-mediums in the world, had a television show that first aired in 1999 called Crossing Over. The show consisted almost entirely of John performing mediumship readings in front of groups, then having the people who received readings explain how the information John provided fit their lives and the lives of their dead people. By this time I had graduated university with a degree in anthropology and a second in visual arts. After years of academic training in an environment where only what you could measure was considered real, I honestly believed at first that Crossing Over was a staged ‘reality’ show, with paid actors, or that audience members were being paid to keep quiet that they were acting. Like a good anthropologist though, I watched and observed, looking for patterns, motivations and holes in people’s stories, assessing audience member’s authenticity and gullibility the whole time. I was fascinated, and the more I watched, the harder it became for me to convince myself that everybody on the show was lying, or that there were that many good actors willing to participate in such a show. When John explained during one episode that you don’t need a medium to communicate with dead people, that you can do it yourself, I decided to give it a try.
It happened to be the day of my brother’s birthday, and just a few hours before I was to be at my parent’s house for dinner to celebrate. I sat down and closed my eyes thinking I’d just stare at the inside of my eyelids and see if I could see anything. I strained with my eyes to find images until I found a happy medium between effort and ease and settled into my vision. I held it softly. Suddenly, like an image on a developing photograph, I saw a house. Then, five minutes or so later, I softly watched more pictures appear on the back of my eyelids, pictures that looked like moving photo negatives.
The first image I saw was of my grandparent’s house. I hadn’t seen it since I was eight years old. It was light blue in my mind’s eye, which I thought was odd, since I recalled the house being white. The image zoomed in, around to the backyard where I could see a clothesline, as if I was being given a tour. Suddenly, I was in the house, looking at a corner cabinet that held my grandmother’s china. Then, suddenly, I was standing in the desert watching an RV drive by. I knew somehow that it was going from California to Arizona, and it was my grandfather’s trip. Like the blue house, the RV didn’t make any sense. I'd heard that my grandfather had never travelled outside of Southwestern Ontario his entire life. Then, I felt like I WAS my grandfather, standing behind my brother at around age 12, with my hands on his shoulders while he sat on the bench between shifts playing hockey. Again, the image didn’t make any sense to me because my grandfather had died before my brother was born. Then, I felt like I was supposed to say “I’m with Harold”.
A few hours later, at my parent’s house, I checked out the details I had seen earlier. I pulled my mother aside and asked about the blue house the RV trip and the patterns I’d seen on the china. To my amazement, every detail checked out. She confirmed all of it. My grandparent’s house had been blue before I was born, my grandfather had taken one trip in his life, in an RV from California to Arizona, and my mother told me that the china patterns I drew her matched her mother’s exactly. Harold, I learned, had been my grandfather’s best man and best friend. My mother knew exactly what the image of him standing with my brother between hockey shifts meant.
My grandfather died of a heart attack while shovelling snow. He was clearing his driveway before coming to visit for my eighth birthday. My mother was planning to surprise him with the news that he was going to have another grandchild. She never got to tell him about my brother, and had always regretted waiting to tell him in person. The message in the image of my grandfather with his hands on my brother’s shoulders, watching my brother grow up playing hockey, something my grandfather would have loved, along with the other validations, couldn’t have been clearer: he did know about my brother, he hadn’t missed watching him grow up, and there was nothing for my mother to regret. It was her gift on my brother’s birthday.
Needless to say, my interest was piqued. I laid down to stare at the inside of my eyelids almost every day after that, waiting and watching images appear. I would find a friend, family member or friend of the family that was open to hearing anything I might pick up, and I would lay down, close my eyes and wait for the images to begin. I would write down what I saw and then call the person to explain the images I saw. Pretty soon, I had run out of friends and family to test my new skills out on, and I started reading friends of friends, then my brother’s frat buddies, then their sorority girlfriends. Somewhere along the line people started calling me for readings.
My brother was serendipitously enrolled in a psychology class at the time at The University of Western Ontario called Altered States of Consciousness, taught by professor Imants Baruss. Survival of consciousness after death, along with mediumship, happened to be on the syllabus. Months after I’d started experimenting with mediumship and documenting the experiences I was having, I ended up back at Western, where I’d graduated a few years before, in Imants’ office, two of my journals in hand. I’d ended up in the right place.
Professor Imants Baruss has now been studying and teaching about human consciousness for over thirty years and is the author of numerous books and scientific papers on the subject. He is one of only a handful of academics in the world currently studying consciousness, and is one of the world's top experts on the subject. Imants not only helped me understand my abilities, he invited me to demonstrate them in a few of his classes, so his students would get to see and experience firsthand what they were studying. I ended up spending the next 12 years visiting Imants’ classes as a guest speaker, to read a few students, and then have the class analyze and try to explain what they saw and experienced. I learned a lot from all the questions students asked over the years, and our attempts to answer their questions. Over the years, my abilities improved, my understanding of what I think is a basic human ability got clearer and clearer, and I learned to apply the ability in new ways.
I couldn’t have imagined for most of my life that all the things I can now do with telepathic abilities were possible at all, let alone possible for me, including the ability to:
communicate with dead people
communicate with animals, both living and dead
psychically perceive living people’s thoughts, beliefs and emotions (with caveats I’ll explain later) and how they have, and will play out in repeating life patterns
obtain certain types of information about anything or anyone, past, present or future
preview possible and probable futures, get a sense of the likelihood of them coming to pass, and the steps people can take to make desired possible futures happen
work with people to fine tune and align their visions of themselves, and the future, to co-create relationships and experiences with other conscious people with an ease, genius and power beyond anything a logical mind could ever conceive or orchestrate
understand things, and other beings, on a level beyond anything language could possibly convey
All I really needed to develop these abilities was permission. Permission to believe in myself and the fact that my strange, random and crazy thoughts, along with the images and feelings I could perceive when I meditated with intention, were not strange, random or crazy at all. I would like to give others the same permission, and share a few of the things I’ve learned over the years about telepathic abilities, our essential telepathic nature, and what it means to be telepathically connected to the wider world.
Four blind men were led to an elephant...
“An elephant is like a column.” said the first blind man, hugging the elephant's leg.
“Nooo, an elephant is like a fan.” exclaimed the second blind man, flapping the elephant's ear.
“No, noooo, an elephant is like a spear.” yelled the third blind man, caressing the elephant's tusk.
“No, noo, noo, noooo, noooo! An elephant is like a rope.” sighed the fourth blind man, wiggling the elephant's trunk.
~ Ancient Proverb
This book is written from the perspective of a proverbial blind woman with her hand on the elephant; not to argue over what the elephant is, but to share what I’ve found, and help you put your hand on the elephant too. Though I humbly share what I’ve found, and acknowledge that there are many parts of the metaphorical elephant I haven’t put my hand on yet, I must fiercely insist that the elephant is very real, and there for everyone to experience - if you are willing to try.
What follows is a perspective based on my personal experiences, and the product of many long conversations between my partner and I to reconcile my experiences with modern life, science, religion, shamanic traditions and new age teachings. The connected mind concept is the most accessible, straightforward, yet comprehensive way I can explain how I do what I do. Although this guide is written mostly first person from my perspective, it is the product of a joint effort and you will notice the ebb and flow of both our voices throughout this guide. True to the subject matter, we wrote this guide in connected states and ways in which far more was accomplished together than either of us could have managed alone. In writing the book, it became impossible for us to separate our contributions, or our voices.
In sharing this work we hope to help you understand and embrace an essential, sacred and powerful part of yourself and others; a part of all of us that you may be uncomfortable with, as it has been ridiculed, objectified, demonized and denied by mainstream culture for centuries. In doing so, we hope to give you access to a whole new realm of connection, meaning, extra-ordinary experience, empowerment and possibility.
Leaving the Dark Ages
“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.
When a distinguished but elderly scientist states that something is impossible,
he is very probably wrong.
The only way of discovering the limits of the possible is to venture a little way past them into the impossible.”
~ Arthur C. Clarke’s Laws of Prediction
For the first 15 years of my career, I referred to myself as a psychic-medium, purely out of forced practicality. The term never really captured the fullness of the work I did and, given the choice, I would much rather have avoided all the baggage that came with the label. Most people have let go of thinking of fortune telling, curses, seances, woo-woo moments, ghosts and spirits when the term psychic-medium comes up, but stereotypes and irrational fears endure. People still tend to freak out when they find out what I do for a living, sometimes in fear, sometimes in arrogant disbelief. I spend a lot of time dispelling myths and calming irrational fears about being psychic; time that I think could be better spent talking about what we can do with psychic abilities, or actually doing something useful with them.
I now introduce myself as a conscious living coach, the best term I can come up with to explain what I actually do with my psychic abilities: help people to bring consciousness to every area of their lives to solve problems and live happier, more enjoyable and accomplished lives. I also prefer the term telepath over psychic-medium. Telepathy is simply defined as mind to mind, or consciousness to consciousness communication. Mediumship is a form of telepathy, along with intuition, clairvoyance, animal communication, remote viewing, and a range of other psychic abilities and phenomena. It’s all the same ability, applied in slightly different ways.
I think of telepathy as a skill with broad applications rather than a mystical ability to turn to in secret, when everything else has failed. Used openly with skill and purpose, telepathy is a technology that can be applied to every area of human endeavour with tremendous individual and collective benefits. Contrary to popular desire, psychic abilities and telepathy don’t work well for picking lottery numbers or winning horses. Telepathy isn’t consistently useful when competition for personal gain at the expense of others is the aim. Predicting the future to avoid negative and unintended consequences does work well, but the true power and potential of telepathy lies in co-creating the future, not predicting it. Telepathy is far better suited, and exponentially more powerful, when it is used openly, to facilitate cooperation. The real promise and power of telepathy is in its astounding ability to orchestrate and facilitate all sorts of cooperative relationships, interactions, adaptations and transformations.
To appreciate the sophistication and genius telepathy offers in this regard, we have to look to the miracle of nature. If you look closely, you will notice that everything in nature from schooling fish, to migrating birds, to spawning salmon, to pollinating bees, to the cells in our bodies, functions through a sort of telepathic connection. Anyone who has spent time in nature, or studied it scientifically, is left with a sense of appreciation for the astounding intelligence that appears to orchestrate the natural world. Nature knows when it’s time: when it is time to grow, to hibernate, to migrate, to reproduce, and when it’s time to die. Trees know when, and how to grow, how to harvest sunlight and how to work with bacteria to get nutrients from the soil. Your body knows how to move, grow, breath and work with bacteria in your gut to digest food. Animals know where to travel to find food, or dig dens, even in a changing world, sometimes as if they know the future: digging dens high on riverbanks to avoid once in a decade spring floods or collectively seeking shelter hours before severe weather or earthquakes.
This knowing, instinctual and collective intelligence we see throughout the natural world can not be found or fully explained by the DNA, brain function or the intelligence of individual organisms. There is something more going on, something bigger, something that looks a lot like a vast collective intelligence coordinating and orchestrating the miracle of nature, the beautiful and immeasurably complex dance of symbiotic, competitive, and synergistic relationships we see at every level of the natural world. Though we can often glimpse this intelligence at work, we can’t explain how it works through physical-material means. The deep interconnectedness we see everywhere in nature functions through an invisible connection that can’t be sampled, measured or seen under a microscope. The connection is non-physical: a sort of telepathic connection.
Telepathy is universal to all nature, as well as the human experience. I now teach the concept of natural telepathy rather than law of attraction, karma or destiny because at the heart of all of these concepts is a universal and natural telepathic connection. When we tune into and consciously use our own natural telepathy, we can tap into the same extraordinary collective intelligence that orchestrates the miracle of nature to guide and inspire our own lives. In doing so, we can create wildly fulfilling, joyful and abundant lives for ourselves, to the benefit of one another and the rest of the planet: a perspective I like to refer to as win-win-win, or collective synergy.
If we can get over our collective fear and embrace what is a natural human ability and really, our first language, telepathy might even help us accomplish results on a global level that few of us can even dream of now, without negative and unintended consequences that harm others and the planet. As with other soft technologies such as language, the telephone, or the internet, the promise and power of telepathy as a technology will only be realized when many people begin using it consciously and cooperatively. Few people dreamt of, let alone predicted, the far reaching ways that the internet and wireless technologies have transformed lives around the globe. The next wave of revolutionary technology might have less to do with little black boxes and more to do with how we collectively use and navigate our own consciousness.
Sadly, even though the reality of telepathy is a broadly proven scientific fact of public record, many people still can’t get past their own skepticism and the question of whether psychic abilities are real or not. It’s natural to be skeptical, but more natural, I think, to be curious, and to follow your curiosity. Those who do embrace the reality of these abilities often can’t get past the awe or amazement that these abilities arouse when experienced first hand, are stuck in wonder and proving the existence of these abilities, and don’t do anything productive these abilities. Collectively, we can’t even get to the interesting questions, like, “What can we do with telepathy?” or “How much could telepathy improve our lives and collective fate?”.
I’ve done my best in recent years to distance myself from any talk of spirits, ghosts or the paranormal, as well as the words such as “psychic-medium”, because the fear these words arouses distracts from the real magic and benefits of telepathy. That said, I still spend a lot of time talking to dead people (I prefer the term dead people to spirit or disincarnate - it’s less spooky - dead people are just people, without physical bodies). I’ve learned a lot talking to dead people over the years, and, I think the key to understanding how telepathy works happens to lie in the answer to a question people ask a lot: “What’s it like to be dead?”. So even though this is a book about telepathy, “What’s it like to be dead?” is where we have to start.
Although the question comes up a lot, people tend to avoid the real question, and the real answer, by asking something like: “What’s it like on the other side?” as if death is a vacation destination. Death is an uncomfortable subject that people tend to avoid, to their detriment. When we get comfortable with the question of death, a huge range of fears and anxieties often disappear from our lives. It’s a very important question, and I spent years taking every opportunity I could to ask dead people the question directly. For a long time, the bizarre range of seemingly evasive stories I received made it seem as if the question was not an important one. In fact, most dead people I asked the question of didn’t answer at all, as if nothing was the answer.
Of course, talking to dead people isn’t like having an ordinary conversation. They communicate without words. They show me images and share perspectives and feelings with me. If you’ve ever played charades or Pictionary, you can imagine some of the challenges of my job. I have had lots of dead people show me pictures that might be construed as something like heaven. A three year old who died after being struck by a car once showed me that, when he wasn’t visiting his living siblings in the playroom of their new home, he went to school. The school he showed me was outside in the grass, which was blue, and there were lots of bunnies hopping around. There were other kids there, and he liked his teacher a lot. More than a few men I’ve talked to have shown me images of themselves fishing, or golfing ‘on the other side’ in stunning landscapes, but for the most part, dead people don’t share a lot specific information on the subject.
Communication challenges aside, I realize in hindsight that the stories dead people show me aren’t evasive at all, rather the stories are the answer, but not the kind of answer we’re used to. You have to put a lot of stories and pieces together to get the kind of answer living people want. Dead people don’t give the types of answer we’re used to, I think, because their minds simply don’t work the way our earthly thinking minds do. Many of the things that we are so deathly concerned with while alive don’t even register as something to think or talk about when you’re dead. Rather than what it’s like on the other side, or what they do when they’re not talking to me, most of the dead people I talk to simply want to connect with their loved ones, let them know that they're alright, reminisce and maybe help them heal something so they can make their time here on earth their highest quality experience. In fact, the first thing all dead people almost universally share with their loved ones is “I’m good” by sharing images of themselves smiling, youthful, vital, strong, healthy and happy which is probably really the best indication of what it’s like to be dead.
Dead people also love to talk about what they loved in life, and it’s even easier for them to communicate about an interest if it’s also an interest of mine. If I share an interest with a dead person, we share a vocabulary, both sensory and verbal, and the passion and emotions they share with me are heightened, which can make for some entertaining exchanges. For example, I love to cook, which means that anyone who comes through whom also loved to cook in life can, and will, show me foods they used to make, how they made it, and sometimes the ingredients. Sometimes they share who’s making that favourite dish now, which ingredients are being left out, what new ingredients are being added, and sometimes even all the ways the recipe has since been mangled by the new cooks all so I can rib living family members. Maybe it’s partly because I love to cook so much, or possibly just that food is what brings family together most often, but I spend a lot of time talking food with dead people.
Sometimes dead people share what they’ve learned since their death. They often come through with a completely clean, objective retelling of the facts of their life, often taking full responsibility for their life, and for some, even owning up to things they would never have owned up to in life. I once even had the very strange experience of having a conversation with a dead mobster who had killed a lot of people. It was already happening before we realized who he was. I didn’t feel any danger or any kind of threat. He wasn’t evil or unpleasant, he just shared the facts of his life. That was all. No muss no fuss.
What I want to make really clear is that the dead people I talk to are still people with fully intact personalities, preferences, likes, dislikes, memories and some, though not all, emotions. They’re very much like normal people to talk to, except they communicate through thoughts that mimic sensory information rather than words, and are never in a bad mood (with two notable though rare exceptions). Their personalities, quirks and habits come through loud and clear. The less I get in the way, the clearer the personality of whomever I’m talking to comes through. Dead people reference and communicate with the same quirks, mannerisms, memories and preferences they had in life. The only thing they have left behind, other than their body, seems to be the part of their mind that created stress, anger, worry, hate and fear while they were on earth. Turns out we have a lot to learn from the dead.
I do need to take a moment to talk about the two exceptions to the universal beneficence of dead people. Most dead people report experiencing death as an instant relief from physical and emotional pain, as well as from negative or impaired thinking. Alzheimer's patients report their mind functioning perfectly upon death, and having spent protracted periods outside of their body during the latter stages of their disease. People who have died of cancer and other such progressive illnesses also report popping in and out of their bodies as they transitioned towards physical death, especially when heavily medicated or in pain. Car crash victims who passed instantly often show images of the crash scene from inside the car and then from about ten feet above looking down. Sometimes they imply a popping sensation before they tell me: “....and then I was out...it wasn’t that bad.”
I’ve never met a murder victim who had any interest in helping police catch their killer, let alone seeking justice or vengeance. Every murder victim I’ve met has encouraged their family and friends to focus on their life, on good times together and on connection, not on a brief moment of tragedy. From their perspective, they can see and understand how everything works itself out, seeing justice and karma from a much higher perspective than we do. Even the most innocent victims of heinous crimes, like a young local girl, who was abducted and murdered by someone she knew, who I’ve talked to a number of times, doesn’t want to talk about her killer. Murder victims want to visit and enjoy their time and connection with the people they loved in life, and often encourage living family members to let go of anger and the desire to catch or punish their killers.
A few dead however people do seem to need some time to let go of their earthly mind’s thinking patterns. For example, a distant neighbour of mine’s father once showed up in my driveway as I was leaving my house. He was panic stricken and distraught. He had been murdered only hours before, just a few kilometres from my home and was so deep in his feelings of panic and fear about the fight he was just in, that his focus kept him attached to his physical life. As I talked to him though, helping him notice that he was okay, even though he didn’t have a physical body anymore, his state shifted. He became less demanding and fearful, and softened both emotionally and energetically. It only took a few minutes for him to calm down and go on his way. Quite a few people seem to need a few days, usually the time between their death and their funeral, to acclimate to their new state, and many still behave as if they have a physical body during that time, getting around by riding in cars, buses, or by walking for example.
I have also had the experience of speaking with dead people who were addicts or narcissists in life, deeply focused in anger and drama, whose negative focus continued for a short time after their death. I have done follow up sessions with a few of these people over the course of several years following their deaths and I’ve noticed that, in every case, these people become more and more accountable, apologetic, wise and lovely as time passes, allowing their living families to reconcile, forgive and come to terms with how they were in life, as well as see how far they’ve come after their deaths.
I cringe to bring up the second exception to the universal beneficence of dead people because of the stigma and fear associated with it. Still, I must responsibly address the entities I call the loveless: the negative dead people who won’t, or can’t, let go of their earthly focus and accompanying negative emotions, sometimes referred to as earthbound spirits. Such people, who do not seem to have any loving connections, or perhaps the capacity to love, can show up while working in altered states, particularly when there’s a negative focus like investigating murders, or paranormal phenomenon.
Most haunting type phenomenon I have investigated (back when I was interested) have not involved dead people at all. Most haunting phenomenon in my experience stem from energy signatures, sort of like memories having been imprinted upon spaces; memories that play over and over in loops that people entering the space can experience. There is really no danger from such energy signatures, unless you consistently focus on the energy signature, and start to unconsciously play it out in your life. However, focusing on anything negative or unpleasant in altered states, doing such work with a fearful mindset, or in secret as if it’s something to be ashamed of, can bring resonant negative beings, or things into your awareness. Avoiding such experiences requires clear and purely positive intentions before doing any altered state work, a positive emotional state, and preferably wise and experienced guidance. Even with disciplined focus and thorough preparation though, unwanted and unpleasant interactions can and do happen at first.
If negative encounters do happen, in my experience, if you believe you are safe and act accordingly, you are safe. You have a body, and anyone that doesn’t can’t physically harm you, however they can impact your energetic body, scare, and annoy you if you let them. Calm confidence, knowing that you are safe, along with learning to firmly shift your focus away from unpleasant things and exerting firm and healthy boundaries in every regard is the best psychic protection in altered states, and in life, that I’ve been able to find so far. I am not alone in having had some tough experiences though, such as being shown grizzly images or being aggressively screamed at while I’m trying to concentrate. This happens with regularity in the general population but rarely gets spoken of, to the detriment of many.
Statistically, around one in ten people have heard voices spontaneously and many of these people end up dealing with such experiences in fear and isolation, fearing that, if they seek help, they will be met with one of two answers, if not both: they’re imagining things, or they’re crazy. These encounters with the loveless can be emotionally scarring or traumatizing if you let them, but they don’t need to be. I think we need to acknowledge that these encounters do occur, and collectively learn how to deal with them in clear, effective, and empowered ways. You don’t need to fear the entire universe because of one bad neighbourhood and a few miserable people. What I would like to stress is that the potential applications of telepathy are endless, and do not need to involve the paranormal, solving crimes, dead people, or anything negative or unpleasant at all.
Apart from the anomalies above, what is universally consistent about the dead people I talk to, is their absence of anger, guilt, stress and worry. They come through to me with peace and ease. They don’t communicate anything to me from a place of fear or stress. It’s as if they are missing the ability to feel negative emotions altogether. They will often share the kinds of emotions they lived with in their life but only to explain their circumstances or perspective. They never do blame, or become angry in the moment, ever. Some dead people even apologize for their negative emotions in life, but they never communicate from a place of guilt or shame. It’s not like they’ve lost any personality; quiet people are still quiet; people who were loud or obnoxious in life are still just as loud, and usually the first to come through, sometimes even interjecting over other dead people long after they’d supposedly finished talking. What dead people share with me most of all is love, sometimes with such overwhelming intensity that it makes me cry. I feel deeply lucky to be able to communicate this way; it’s a profoundly sacred and beautiful experience.
Although it may seem trite, I cannot emphasize enough that while working in altered states the most important element or ingredient to include is unconditional love. Think of love as a way of focusing the mind, a powerful skill and ability, and a measure and flavor of connection. The ability to attain, retain and focus from a loving state is, I believe, what permits telepathic communication, as well as what keeps you safe in altered states. You can end up in some unpleasant places if your focus slips towards fear, anger, anxiety or judgement in altered states of consciousness. Emotions in altered states are like Velcro hurled out into the dark in search of a match: there are plenty of matches to any emotional state and you get back what you put out.
Unconditionally loving states, states of pure love, harmlessness and gentle curiosity are required to create the telepathic connections that allow conscious telepathic communication. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that avatars, sages and saints, people who have historically been reported to have various superpowers, from knowing the future and the nature of the universe to making wine out of water, have all also been living embodiments of love and have primarily taught about love. Unfortunately, I think the institutionalization of these teachings about love has created widespread confusion between concepts of what love is and the state of being that such concepts point to and flow from.
Untangling some of this confusion, the notion that love has conditions, is about being nice, grandiose gestures, romance, sex or self-sacrifice is a key step in accessing and understanding telepathic abilities. To untangle such confusion, I often refer my clients to heart centred therapy, or suggest reading material like, Diane Zimberoff’s book, Breaking Free From the Victim Trap, or The Power of Ted by David Emerald. Diane and David both eloquently describe the life dramas that ensue when we place conditions on love and acceptance, and live on the co-dependent triangle: in the roles of victim, persecutor and rescuer, roles Zimberoff says seven out of ten families relate to one another and function through. To get a sense of your own ability to access loving states, and telepathic connection, consider the places and ways you already love, feel loved and experience joy in your life. These are the places and ways you are already in connection in life, and are excellent places to begin exploring from.
When you start putting all the pieces together, dead people’s complete absence of stress and fear makes sense: they’re dead; they don’t have to worry about survival because their death has already happened. From what I can deduce after years of what seemed like cute stories and cryptic babbling, dead people seem to spend time creating whatever experience they want in a shared, spontaneously created environment with the ease and speed of thought. Think about that for a second. You can think of your favourite food and your favourite place, and your favourite thing to do, and boom, you’re eating your favourite food, in your favourite place, doing your favourite thing instantaneously as you think the thought. No waiting, no compromise, no working for weeks or months to save up for what you want, no planning, scheming, competing or worrying about variables or surprises.
While you entertain yourself with your favourite things, others can join you, or not, and when you’re over it, you can go play in someone else’s creation or a new one of your own. Heaven is a good name for a place like that if you ask me. I have never once had a dead person reference lack, pain or judgment in their experience since their passing in any way, let alone the existence of hell, no matter how they were in life, including the hundreds of people I’ve talked to who have taken their own lives. Now, I haven’t gone looking for such places either, and they may exist in some way, but no dead person has ever taken me there, nor do I have any interest in seeing or experiencing such places, if they do exist at all.
So, the first part of the answer to the question “What’s it like to be dead?”, is, it’s liberating. The problems of earth are gone and there don’t seem to be any new problems let alone any judgement, fire or brimstone. There is no hunger, no vulnerable body to fuel or protect from disease or attack, no money to earn, no rent to pay, no ageing and no need to argue over anything. There’s never a rush because there isn’t the same time crunch we have the minute we are born into a body with an expiry date. The environment dead people seem to exist in is so different from the environment we live in, that dead people have no need for the part of our minds that we use to function and survive on this planet: the part of our minds that I call the survivor mind or the bio-mind. Without their earthly survivor minds, dead people’s minds are much cleaner, faster, freer and more objective than our thinking minds; clear facts and insight minus the running emotional commentary that so often bogs down our daily lives. For me, the difference between dead people’s minds and most living people’s minds is jarring and clear, with a few notable exceptions.
Some living people’s minds are very much like dead people’s minds. The minds of more than a few exceptional and lovely people on this planet aren’t bogged down with the emotional baggage, worries, guilt, anger and stress that most of us carry around. Almost every living person has moments in life where they escape their survivor mind, drop their worries, judgements and fears, show up in the moment, and suddenly turn into lovely, radiant beings, just like our dead friends. These moments are also often moments of clarity, wisdom, love and connection, or moments of epiphany where brilliant ideas show up, amazing things are accomplished and beautiful things happen. These are the moments and times when we lose ourselves in something we love, and time flies by; times of connection, delight, laughter, fun and joy.
What I’ve come to realize is that although we all have survivor minds, and we need them to function on the planet, we also have what I call connected minds: the part of our minds that dead people live in, that we all come from, and will all return to. You could call this part of yourself your spirit or soul, but I don’t think such words capture the true nature of this part of the self. A soul is something you have, protect and save, not something that is part of you, that you can access at will, just as you can access your thinking mind. Spirits can seem scary rather than something that is an intimate part of you, a part of you that is more You than your body and thoughts are You; and spirits are certainly not thought of as the true source of inspiration, clarity, love and peace within ourselves.
We all have connected minds, and our connected minds are more who we are than our thinking survivor minds: our connected minds are our authentic selves. We all naturally cycle between our connected minds and our survivor minds organically all day, but we can choose which part of our minds we want to spend time in and use. Most of us have become so focused in our survivor minds and bogged down with earthly problems and worries that we spend little time in our connected minds. We have forgotten that we can go into our connected minds at will, and we’ve forgotten how to get there. Many of us have tuned right out of our connection to the greater whole altogether, and can no longer get in touch with the part of ourselves from which inspiration, happiness, and ease flows. We spend little time in connection, and live mostly in our problem solving, worrying, stressed out survivor minds, so much so that we have come to fear our natural telepathic connection to the world.
To get back in touch with this sacred part of ourselves, our connected minds, and remember how to access their power and potential, we need to go back to the second part of the answer to the question of “What’s it like to be dead?”. The answer: it’s not that different from being alive. If you’re already showing up in your own life, playing and loving, and not stressed out, worried and angry all the time, you’re spending time in your connected mind. You already understand what it’s like to be dead, though that’s just part of the experience. To really explain what it’s like to be dead, I’d like to tell you about a friend of mine, we’ll call Bradley, who best answered the question “What’s it like to be dead” for me, and in doing so, helped me truly see for the first time what it’s like to be alive.
A few years ago, not long after I’d decided to try and explain the mechanics of being psychic and write a book, Bradley passed away. He was a surgeon and a very special man who touched and saved the lives of many. His passing was a loss the entire community felt. The morning of his funeral, he showed up at my house. He was excited, but still a little thrown by the unexpected persistence of his consciousness. As a medical doctor, part of him was absolutely sure that his consciousness existed only because of, and in his brain, and the logical, doctor part of his mind hadn’t expected that he would exist after death. He appreciated the new freedom and abilities he had and was totally stoked to talk about his experience.
What Bradley loved most was that he was free of the confines of the body, and even more so, his brain. When we got in the car to go to the funeral, Bradley jumped in the backseat. He shared with me that his experience was that his brain had actually slowed his mind remarkably and being free of it was a wonderful relief, like a weight had been lifted. He could now get answers to questions just by wondering about the question or subject. He could not only travel wherever he wanted just by thinking about where he wanted to go, he also found that he had instantaneous access to any information or understanding he wanted, and no subject seemed to be out of reach or over his head. Like Google only way better!
Bradley’s perspective let me firmly put the pieces of the psychic puzzle together and let go of all the baggage, stories, fears, judgements, and half truths that science, religion and pop culture have projected onto what is just a basic human ability. When I could finally see the raw ability clearly, I started to see and feel for the first time in my life, what it is really like to be human, and I could also clearly see how we have been taught to be afraid of who we are and our basic wiring. I used to explain that to access psychic information, I would alter my state through meditation and create a blank space in my mind. From this state, where part of me was ‘one with everything’ I would wonder about whatever, or whoever I wanted to know about. Information and understandings about whatever I wondered about would then instantaneously pop into this blank space in my mind, as if I was directly connected to whatever or whoever I was wondering about.
The way Bradley described death to me was exactly like my experience of getting psychic information, and exactly how I did what I did as a telepath. It also explained why dead people provide such good advice, and why psychic information during my sessions often came from the dead people I was talking to, rather than me having had to look for it during mediumship sessions. Bradley had inadvertently given me the best answer I had ever thought of to the question “How do you do what you do?” Finally, thanks to Bradley, I had an explanation that really made sense: I am just bringing awareness to the part of my mind that dead people live in, and we all have. I’m not doing anything special or unusual, I’m just freeing myself from my brain and my survivor mind momentarily, and using a part of my mind that we all have and will all return to: my connected mind.
In your connected mind, everything is just a thought away. You’re connected to everything, all at once. You can relax in calm awareness and enjoy the feeling of connection, or you can focus on something - a person, place or thing - and get intimate information about any aspect of what you’re focusing on. It’s almost as if you momentarily become the thing you’re focusing on; like you understand it from the inside. When you’re fully in this part of your mind, it always feels safe and familiar; you just know that everything is going to be okay; that you will be okay. To get details about anything, you merely wonder about it, or who you want to talk to and you connect with it or them on a level that is best described as knowing, or what I call clairiscience. You don’t get word answers, it’s more like information comes in blocks or thought bubbles that contain all sorts of details, like the connection is mind - to- mind or mind- to- source: communication happens through your inner senses.
In more new age terms, you connect to the energy of someone or something; how it feels in its totality. It’s information without words, raw information that needs to be translated as well as contextualized for it to make sense or be useful. It’s not always easy to decipher and understand what you’re looking at with your connected mind or what it relates to, let alone what it means. It’s a skill that can be remembered, since it’s an ability we all naturally possess but have forgotten how to use. The real challenge is distinguishing your connected mind from your survivor mind’s projections, judgments and beliefs about how it thinks and imagines things should be, a challenge that becomes more and more difficult the more you try.
This book is not about convincing anyone that there is a connected mind, you know this place. You may already know this place really well, and seek it out regularly without consciously noticing or being able to explain the experience. Everyone on the planet spends some time in their connected mind, or has mastered using it in a particular way. Anytime you lose yourself doing something you love, when time seems to fly by, or slow down, when details or connections jump into sharp focus, everything is suddenly clear, you are in your connected mind. You’ve probably had many such moments, on a quiet nature walk, maybe cooking, painting, drawing or acting on stage, having a meaningful heart to heart with someone, playing a sport, or maybe while running or doing yoga. Almost all of us know this place, and intuitively seek it out for pleasure, to feel peace, or solve problems, but for the most part, we don’t have the slightest inkling what’s possible when we bring consciousness and skill to this place.
Learning about the connected mind can help you accomplish the extraordinary in life, the arts, athletics or business and can open the doorways to developing your own siddis, or mind powers, but that’s not really what this book is about. More than anything, it is about accepting and playing in the connected mind. I want to share what I’ve discovered and in doing so, give you a new lens through which to see the world, and maybe your life.
To start, before I explain my personal experience of the connected mind, how to access your own, and what you’ll find when you do, I have to address the biggest barriers most people face in accepting and understanding telepathic abilities:
Mistaken identity - the belief that you are your body, and that your mind is the product of nerve activity in your brain (and is therefore stuck within your skull, isolated from the world except through the physical senses, and will cease to exist with the demise of the body).
Materialism - the belief that nothing other than physical matter exists and that anything that cannot be explained by the interactions of material things is impossible.
Overconfident modernism - the belief that modern science (or any one book) has all the answers, and that we know pretty much all there is to know about the universe, the body, the brain, and the human condition.
Fear of the unknown, which masquerades mostly as denial and dismissal in modern society.
To understand telepathy, and eventually get you back into your own telepathic abilities, there is a lot to unlearn. We have all experienced a surprisingly vast number of little moments over the years that have deeply implanted limiting beliefs into our psyches; beliefs that keep us out of connection and can be hard to let go of. It’s surprising how visceral and irrational our reactions can be when we are first faced with undeniable evidence of the reality and power of telepathic abilities, or have our own connected mind experiences.
Initially, it all seems like magic, which many of us have been trained to fear. It’s time to stop living in the dark ages though, time to stop fearing, persecuting and denying the existence of everything we don’t yet understand. To do so, we’re going to have to get a little uncomfortable while we look at some science, explained from a telepath’s perspective, to unravel some of the deeply held beliefs we’ve all absorbed through school, the media and little moments over the years. It’s important information that should not be glossed over, but feel free to read this book in any order you are inspired to, and skip to Part II - The Connected Mind, if the unlearning gets to be too uncomfortable. Don’t give up too quickly though. Remember, you are far, far more intelligent than conventional wisdom would have you believe (as you will soon find out), and in your connected mind, nothing is beyond your understanding. Any understanding you desire is accessible when you let yourself slip into connection, gently wonder, and follow your curiosity.
A No Brainer
“A human being is a part of the whole called by us universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feeling as something separated from the rest, a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.”
~ Albert Einstein
When it comes to abilities like mediumship, animal telepathy and psychic knowing, most rational, intelligent people who have not had spontaneous experiences of their own are skeptical. Ironically, this very skepticism is what prevents people from noticing their own connected minds and accessing their own extra-ordinary abilities. We tend to be skeptical of extraordinary abilities because we can’t reconcile these abilities with our fundamental understanding of ourselves and our place in the universe: we almost universally believe that our minds are in our brains. If our minds are in our brains, isolated within our skulls, only able to interact with the wider world through our bodies and physical senses, it stands to logic that it’s impossible to know things without seeing or hearing them directly. It is also impossible for dead people to talk through a medium, or even exist after their physical brain ceases to function since, when the body dies, the mind should cease to exist.
To most people, the idea that the mind is not in the brain is preposterous. We, of course, look out at the world with our eyes, from a perspective of somewhere inside our own head, and we all know that when the brain dies, we die, so of course our minds must be in our brains. Thanks to 200 years of neuroscience, we also have a fairly detailed understanding of the nervous system and which parts of the brain do what. With modern technology like functional MRIs and PET scanners that let researchers watch blood flow in the brain and see which parts of the brain 'light up' when we dream, meditate, or perform specific tasks, researchers can watch the brain in action. The brain imaging, models and theories we’ve devised to explain how the brain works are very convincing. It seems like a no brainer that we and our minds are in our brains, but should we believe the hype?
Many doctors and neuroscientists still admit that there is a lot about the brain we don’t understand yet, and many mysteries yet to be solved. But what if there is far more (and far less) going on in the brain than most doctors and scientists are even willing to conceive of, let alone look for? Could brain scans and MRI images of the brain only be showing us a small part of what is actually going on in the human mind and brain? What if most researchers aren’t willing to entertain, let alone investigate bigger questions such as ‘Where is the mind?’ because such questions are too complicated, open too big a can of worms, or are considered unscientific, unprovable, or traditionally fall into the realm of religion or philosophy?
What if the perspective from which we see the world is just that, a perspective, and not a true indication of where we are? What if our minds are not in our brains at all and the brain is actually more of an antenna, a receiver and transmitter, connecting our minds and consciousness to our bodies and the physical world, rather than an organ giving rise to our minds? Could doctors and scientists tell the difference between blood flowing to a specific part of the brain because thought is being produced there, versus the reception or transmission of thoughts, when they fiercely criticize or dismiss out of hand anyone who suggests that thought is not the mere product of brain function? What if the brain is more like a radio than a bio-computer? We can begin to understand how a radio works by observing and fiddling with the electronics inside, removing or damaging various parts of it and observing how the sound coming out of the radio changes, but we will never discover the source of the music if we only look inside the radio and never consider that the source of the music may be elsewhere.
Although they aren’t yet household names, there are a number of brave doctors, neuro-scientists and physicists who have compiled significant evidence and produced models and theories that explain how our brains function as a sort of antenna, and how this antenna, or back door in space-time within our brains is connected to our consciousness, minds and the basic structure of the universe. In doing so, they have confirmed scientifically that our minds are not isolated in our brains and have started to answer questions like “Where are our minds?” and “How are our minds are connected to one another, and everything else?”. Although still controversial, as most revolutionary ideas are at first, evidence is mounting, theories are being refined and research into human consciousness, sometimes referred to as pseudoscience by the mainstream scientific community, is gradually being accepted into the realm of real science.
As revolutionary as these emerging theories are, they don’t actually contradict more conventional theories that model the brain as a sort of bio-computer isolated within our skulls. Rather, these models, which include holonomic brain theory, quantum mind theories and the morphic resonance hypothesis complement conventional models of brain function. Fitting together like pieces in a puzzle, they answer questions that conventional models of the brain can’t, and connect conventional models of the brain to our actual experience of the world: to consciousness and perception. By linking our brains and consciousness to the basic structure of the universe, these models and theories also explain why phenomena like telepathy, which have been labelled impossible or paranormal by the scientific community for decades, are perfectly possible, entirely normal and are in fact universal to all life.
The doctor and scientist who, to my knowledge, first put the pieces of the connected mind-brain puzzle together is Karl Pribram. Pribram is best known for defining the brain’s limbic system and for developing holonomic brain theory. He held professorships at Georgetown University, Stanford and Yale over his distinguished career. Among the first certified brain surgeons in the world, Pribram pioneered the field of neuropsychology, a term he invented.
Early in his career as a neurosurgeon, Pribram was charged with removing brain tumours. In a time before CAT scans and MRI brain imaging, Pribram was trained to deduce the location of brain tumors by observing the behavioural changes tumours caused in his patients. As the location of many tumors could be deduced by the effects a tumour was having on a patient’s behaviour, Pribram believed, as early anatomists did, and most people do today, that thought, perception and volition all occur in different parts of the brain, in spatially separated modules that we can define, name and surgically remove. This view was however challenged when Pribram began work as a research neurosurgeon with Harvard professor and neuropsychologist Karl Lashley in 1946.
Lashley, who had spent 3o years studying the effects of brain damage, systematically searching for the location where memories are stored in the brain, and not finding one, had come to a very different conclusion about the brain. In early experiments, Lashley trained lab rats to run a maze for food, then systemically severed or cut out parts of their brains to determine in which part of the brain their memories were stored. No matter what part of the brain he cut out though, his rats always remembered their way through mazes they had learned to navigate. Even rats whose ability to walk was impaired after having large portions of their brains removed still managed to wobble down familiar pathways.
Lashley found that his rats’ ability to problem solve was impaired in proportion to the amount of brain tissue he removed, but the location of the brain damage was essentially irrelevant an he could not cut out his rats’ memories. In later experiments, Lashley and other investigators were able to show that removing thin sections of brain tissue has little to no effect on memory or behaviour. Their experiments showed that nerve impulses still travel across severed sections of nerves in the brain, and that the exact pathways nerve impulses take across the brain doesn’t seem to matter.
Lashley felt his findings showed that the brain operates primarily as a single, undifferentiated unit, with memory and brain function spread out over the entire brain rather than occurring in separate modules. Furthermore, Lashley felt that brain activity depended on the pattern of mass excitation of nerve cells within general regions of the brain, but not on which nerve cells in particular fire, or the specific pathways nerve impulses followed. Lashley’s intuition, which turned out to be uncannily accurate, was that perception and memory functioned through electrical activity that occurs over the entire brain, in the form of interfering waves of electricity, what we now commonly refer to as brain waves.
Experiments with salamanders, intended to disprove Lashley’s whole brain idea, were even more baffling than Lashley’s experiments with rats. Salamanders are remarkable creatures and the subject of ongoing scientific study today because they heal perfectly without any scarring whatsoever. Salamanders can also regenerate severed spinal cords, limbs, organs, and brain tissue. Salamanders even survive having their entire brains surgically removed, and then later replaced.
Removing a salamander’s brain, expectedly, puts it into a state of stupor. Salamanders however, return to normal behaviour in time, seemingly no worse for wear, if their brains are returned to their heads. In the early 1960’s, biologist Paul Pietsch took advantage of this ability to explore how the brain stores memories. In an effort to disprove the idea that memories are stored over the entire brain, Pietsch taught salamanders how to navigate mazes for food, then, surgically removed their brains and replaced them upside down, or dissected with pieces interchanged. Pietsch hypothesized that if memories were stored non-locally over salamanders’ entire brains, then salamanders would still be able to access their memories after having their brains shuffled.
In his book Shufflebrain, Pietsch explains how he performed some 700 brain shuffling operations on salamanders. Initially he had expected his salamanders to remain in a state of stupor or behave strangely after having their brains shuffled, thus disproving the theory that memories are stored over the entire brain. To his surprise however, his salamanders not only returned to normal behaviour again and again after having their brains removed then replaced upside down, dissected, jumbled and even whipped into mush in a blender, they also remembered paths through mazes they had learned to navigate prior to their brain shuffling operations! Dramatic evidence to Pietsch that memories and the mind are somehow spread out over the entire brain in a manner such that the mind is preserved, even when the nerve cells and the connections that were thought to encode memories and cognition are jumbled or destroyed.
To more open minded or spiritual observers, the observation that salamanders remember mazes and return to normal behaviour after their brains have been literally turned to mush is clear evidence that salamanders’ memories and minds aren’t in their material brains at all. If memories were stored in the structure or order of salamanders’ physical brains, then when Pietsch’s salamanders grew new brains (from the shuffled remnants of their old brains), their new brains should have been blank slates. If however the mind of a salamander is thought of as a field that occupies the brain, a non-physical structure around which the cells in a salamander’s body and brain organize themselves, then it is easy to imagine that Pietsch’s salamanders’ brain cells simply re-formed around their nonphysical minds. The exact order and placement that shuffled brain cells took wouldn’t matter, because salamanders’ minds aren’t in their brain cells. The brain simply forms a structure through which salamanders’ nonphysical minds can perceive the physical world and communicate with their physical bodies.
Of course, brain recovery in salamanders may not seem to have anything to do with fragile human brains. The human brain is however surprisingly resilient to localized trauma, and it is well known to neurosurgeons that people can and do survive having large sections of their brains removed, or damaged, often with surprisingly little effect on personality or memory. Medical literature is full of cases of patients walking into emergency rooms, fully conscious and talking, with knives, branches, rebar or bullets lodged across entire sections of their brains.
Severe epilepsy is still treated today by surgically removing parts of the brain. In very severe cases in young children, doctors completely remove half of the brain. Amazingly, children who have large portions of their brains removed in early childhood still display normal intelligence, and there is little long term effect on their memories or personalities. Hemispherectomies, the surgical removal of half of the brain, have been performed on hundreds of children to treat severe epilepsy, children who have returned to more normal lives after the procedure, and in fact have typically performed better in school after the surgery.
Doctors typically explain the miraculous recoveries people make after severe brain injury by suggesting that the brain reorganizes itself, and that the remaining parts of an injured brain take over for the missing parts. This is a seeming reasonable explanation until you consider how the remaining parts of an injured brain could possibly know what parts are missing, how to take over for them, and how to reorganize: if the mind was in the physical brain, then missing or damaged parts of the brain should result in the corresponding permanent loss of part of the mind. Perhaps we are not so different from salamanders after all.
After working with Lashley, Pribram went on to become a professor at Yale University where he continued to ponder the contradiction between Lashley’s whole brain idea and the ongoing obsession of brain researchers (that continues today) with mapping the brain by correlating experience and behaviour with specific locations of brain activity or damage. Pribram felt that the contradictory maps of brain function various investigators had produced over the years, and the immensely complex relationships he was discovering between the brain and behaviour, suggested that “brain mapmaking, even when carefully based on sustainable correlations, was not sufficient to constitute a science. Just because we can show by electrical recording or by clinical or surgical damage that a select place in the brain is involved in color vision does not mean that it is the or even a ‘center’ for processing color.” Pribram began looking beyond the shape and structure of the brain for more complex patterns of brain function, focusing on perception, and how the brain translates nerve impulses from the eyes into moving electric fields in the brain.
As Pribram pioneered new ways to record and study electrical activity in the brain, he came across a Scientific American article on the emerging science of holography, in which two optical engineers described how they had been able to store an immense number of three dimensional images on a single piece of film by recording images as interference patterns, rather than as photographic images. The article explained how laser light could be reflected off three dimensional objects, and captured as an interference pattern on film. Illuminating the film with the same laser, at exactly the same angle as the laser used to illuminate each object, produced a hologram of the object - a perfect three dimensional image of the original object that appeared in thin air. By illuminating objects with a laser at different angles, many holograms could be encoded on a single film.
The article explained that though holographs (the term I use for the films that holograms are captured on, just as we refer to photographic films as photographs) could encode hundreds of images, they just looked like blurred lines and water stains. Holograms were captured and stored as interference patterns spread over the entire surface of holographic films. If a holograph was cut in half, or many pieces, the holograms stored on the film could still be reproduced in their entirety from each piece of the film, just with less detail.
Reading the article, in a flash, Pribram realized that the brain must store memories in the same way, which explained why Lashley had not been able to cut memories out of the mind by cutting out pieces of the brain. He also realized exactly what the electric fields and interference patterns he and Lashley had been studying in the brain for years were: holographically encoded interference patterns. Pribram realized that holographic storage and processing might be the key to understanding how the brain processes and stores information, and he set out to investigate his hypothesis.
As Pribram explored the idea and gathered evidence, he realized that understanding the brain as a holographic organ explained a number of mysteries about the brain and consciousness:
the complex electrical impulses he and other scientists could measure and observe travelling through the brain
the enormity of human memory capacity given the size of our brains
our ability to pick familiar faces out of a large crowd, and recognize people at different ages
why memories are so strongly associated with one another, smells or tastes
why our brains process sensory stimuli such as sound and light as frequencies
how our brain creates the illusion of the world we see 'out there': Our brains trick us into believing that electrical impulses in our brains are objects 'out there' in the real world. The world we see 'out there' is not the actual world. It is our brains’ translation of light, sound and kinetic energy from the world around us, energy that our brains translate into a hologram, inside our own heads, and sensations in our bodies - images and sensations that appear and feel so real, that we believe them to be the real world.
By the 1970’s Pribram had accumulated enough evidence to convince himself that the brain does indeed store memories and processes information holographically. As Pribram’s conception of the brain as a holographic lens grew, repeatedly thinking the idea through to its logical conclusion, he kept coming to the same conclusion, and started to wonder if his research was pointing to something bigger. He began to realize that, without our physical senses and brains converting light, sound and kinetic energy into the hologram of the world we see in our minds and project out onto the world, we would be immersed in a holographic experience: we might experience the world more like an interference pattern on a holographic film rather than its three dimensional projection.
The question that bothered Pribram the most was that: if our brains reconstruct the picture of objective reality we see in a way similar to how a hologram is reconstructed from an interference pattern on a holographic film, then what does that say about physical reality? The only logical conclusion his holographic model of the brain kept leading him to was the same conclusion that Eastern traditions had been teaching for millennia: that the world of separate objects we see with our eyes is maya - the illusion of reality created through the perspective of our physical senses. The world out there exists as we see it, but also in a way that we cannot perceive through our physical senses, as a vast, interconnected, resonating symphony of energy: an immense holograph in which objects we perceive as separate are actually spread across the universe as intermingled, interfering waves of energy. Like a holographic film, the entire universe would be reflected in, and connected to, every other part, and, every part of the universe would be informed by every other part.
Realizing that the answers to his questions went well beyond biology, but might be found in the physics of holograms, Pribram sought the help of his son, who happened to be a physicist. Pribram’s son informed him that another rather well known physicist, David Bohm, through his research in quantum physics, had already come to the conclusion that the entire universe functions as a sort of living hologram: a holographic universe in which Pribram’s holographic brain theory fit like a missing puzzle piece.
Fear, Magic and a Second Level of Reality
“It isn’t that the world of appearances is wrong, it isn’t that there aren’t objects out there, at one level of reality. It’s that if you penetrate through and look at the universe with a holographic system, you arrive at a different view, a different reality. And that other reality can explain things that have hitherto remained inexplicable scientifically: paranormal phenomena, synchronicities, the apparently meaningful coincidence of events”
~ Karl Pribram
The idea that there are two levels of reality goes back a very long way, and was probably self evident to most of humanity, for most of history. Every culture on the planet throughout history has acknowledged a second level of reality in some form, as a spirit world, realms of the gods, heaven or underworld. The more natural and non-industrial an indigenous culture is, the more direct people’s relationships, influences and interactions with this second level of reality seem to have been. Most early humans living in nature throughout history, judging by what we know of them now, very much appear to have lived in two worlds, paying attention to spirits and spirit worlds as much as the physical world, and nurturing very real relationships with non-physical aspects of themselves, the animals they hunted, the ecosystems around them, as well as the stars and their ancestors in some cases.
Although we might dismiss such ideas and experiences as silly fantasies made up by primitive peoples who didn’t know any better, considering how new the idea that physical reality is the only reality, perhaps we should be asking the question: Which culture is the delusional one? Every culture in history that came before us, or ours? With none of the distractions of hurried modern life, little focus on conceptual or intellectual thinking, and daily access to altered states of consciousness that modern life keeps most present day humans from experiencing, our so called primitive ancestors may well have been far more advanced in their ability to access and navigate altered states of consciousness than most of us are today.
Modern science began to bump up against a second level of reality in the early 1900’s with the advent of quantum physics. The problem physicists initially faced was the wave-particle duality of light. Light travels as a wave that behaves very much like waves on water do by:
spreading out and traveling as a front that follows every path on a trajectory, rather than taking one single path through space as an object or particle would
bending when it is slowed down by air, water or encounters obstacles, and
creating interference patterns where light waves cancel each other out (creating dark spots) or add to one another (creating bright spots).
Light however also behaves as if it is a particle, hitting individual atoms or molecules and leaving dots on photographic films for example, as if light particles hit photographic films one by one like a muddy tennis ball on a white wall. In 1905, Albert Einstein proposed that light was both a wave and a particle, and summed up the problem stating that “we have two contradictory pictures of reality; separately, neither of them fully explains the phenomena of light, but together they do.” By 1924, French physicist Louis de Broglie had shown that electrons, previously thought to be particles, also had wave-like properties. He then expanded the ‘two pictures of reality’ problem by proposing that all matter has wave-like properties.
De Broglie’s work led to the formulation of quantum mechanics, which is still considered, along with general relativity, to be the most successful quantitative scientific theory ever devised. Quantum mechanics has allowed physicists to understand, predict and model the world to extraordinary degrees of precision. It has been used to invent and engineer most modern technology from lasers, to microwaves, to microchips, to MRI scanners, to cell phones and flat screen TVs. In the 1920’s, quantum mechanics provided a huge leap in physicist’s ability to understand and predict the behaviour of the physical world. However, the same equations that allowed physicists to predict the behaviour of light, energy, quantum particles and matter with such incredible precision, also described ‘two contradictory pictures of reality’, and a second, non-physical reality that worked in very, very strange ways.
The wave function, the equation that describes how quantum systems work, requires an observer. Observer and quantum particles are very intimately linked. According to quantum mechanics, quantum particles behave in entirely different ways when they are being observed, and when they are not observed. When not observed, quantum particles don’t behave like separate objects flying on specific paths through space at all. Rather, quantum mechanics describes particles spreading out into superposition, simultaneously taking every possible path they can through space, and spreading out through space and time, into the future, and the past. In superposition, quantum particles appeared to magically exist simultaneously in many places and many times, all at once. They also appeared to communicate with one another over large distances and across time.
In superposition, quantum particles seemed to be everywhere and nowhere all at once. Until they were observed, they seemed to be both everything they could possibly be, and nothing at all, existing in states of pure potential and possibility. Some physicists referred to the strange way in which matter seemed to exist when it wasn’t being observed as quantum foam or quantum soup, because when not observed, matter seemed to behave more like an invisible liquid spread over all space; a medium in which every part was in touch with, and affected by every other part.
Quantum particles seemed to travel through this strange soup much like waves on the ocean, but rather than waves of energy, quantum waves behaved more like waves of possibility. Quantum mechanics described motion of particles in terms of the probabilities and possibilities rather than being in specific places and times. It also described an inherent amount of uncertainty in the world: an exact limit on how much you could know (and therefore predict) about any quantum particle’s location and speed, known as the Heisenberg uncertainty principle. Rather than a deterministic universe, where everything unfolds according to exact equations and immutable laws, quantum mechanics pointed to a mysteriously unpredictable universe where chance, or some other mysterious and unknown force (possibly connected to an observer) plays a fundamental role in each and every exchange and interaction of matter and energy.
The rabbit hole of superposition, matter-observer entanglement, inherent uncertainty and quantum soup that physicists found themselves staring into in the 1920’s was so strange that the same physicists who developed quantum theory decided to ignore the whole second picture of reality, observer-matter interaction, everywhere-nowhere problem all together in what is called the Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mechanics. In the Copenhagen interpretation, the founding fathers of quantum mechanics declared that quantum theory was complete, and that it was meaningless to talk about quantum particles in superposition, because particles in superposition didn’t really exist. They declared that the equations that described quantum particles in superposition “did not yield a description of objective reality”.
In other words, the founding fathers of quantum physics decided that half of the most successful quantitative scientific theory of all time should be ignored altogether because it didn’t seem to make sense. This fearful reaction and refusal to consider, let alone investigate the meaning of revolutionary scientific findings by the very scientists who contributed to the discovery is quite understandable, given the magical reality quantum mechanics pointed to, and the deep seated fear of magic that has pervaded Western thought for several millennia.
Looking back over history, a powerful and visceral fear of magic seems to have arisen in our collective consciousness with the advent of agriculture and civilization. When we began to grow our own food, and live and die by our own hands, hard work, or lack thereof, we left the proverbial Garden of Eden, where, as hunter-gatherers, nature provided all for us. Rather than a trusted abundant giving mother whose bounty could be found everywhere if you followed her signs and your instincts, Mother Nature became a cagey business partner. Mother Nature’s love or wrath meant years of plenty or the decimation of entire crops, and the loss of months of toil and back breaking work that went into their cultivation. We gradually stopped trusting the magic of nature to provide for us, and our connection to nature, and we began to plot, calculate and hoard to outwit Mother Nature and maximize her output.
We staked our claims on plots of land and fought to keep nature away, weeds out of our fields and animals, as well as other humans from stealing our crops. We came to rely on our own strength, hard work, knowledge and logical decision making skills rather than instinct and intuition. We began to see Mother Earth as a conditionally loving provider and began to live with worries about the future and dividing or controlling limited resources more than the abundance of the present moment. Our focus turned to building and defending property and the spoils of our labour. We gradually left our telepathic connection to everything around us, and rather than living in the moment and trusting our connected minds to guide and inform us, we began living more and more in our plotting, mistrusting, conceptual survivor minds.
With productive property and jealous neighbours also came the possibility that the fertility of one’s land and the products of one’s hard labour could be magically charmed away. Laws against magic go back as far as Plato and early Greek law, in which records can be found of farmers having to defend themselves in court against accusations that their bountiful harvests were the result of magically charming away the fertility of their neighbours’ land. Greek laws against magic can be followed into Roman law, and then into the Catholic Church, through which the fear of magic became institutionalized, more irrational, and more elaborate. Fear turned into widespread persecution during the Spanish Inquisition and the burning times, during which the fear of magic saw tens if not hundreds of thousands, mostly women, burned at the stake. Misogyny and fear of magic, long associated with the sacred feminine aspect of human nature, are intimately .
It’s been almost two hundred years since the last public witch burning in Europe, but an irrational, visceral fear of magic still burns brightly in our collective consciousness, even among many of the supposed rational leaders in the scientific community. It’s been less than 30 years since the editor of Nature, arguably the most prestigious scientific journal in the world, declared a book titled A New Science of Life by Cambridge biologist Rupert Sheldrake, an “infuriating tract...the best candidate for [book] burning there has been for many years" and that "Sheldrake [was] putting forward magic instead of science, and that can be condemned in exactly the language that the Pope used to condemn Galileo, and for the same reason. It is heresy."
Sheldrake’s infuriating hypothesis (based on scientific observation, experimentation and thorough research) was simply that informed action at a distance plays a key role in biology and cellular processes. The public burnings may have stopped, but the threats of burning, and irrational public persecution of anything perceived as magical have continued through to the present day - though mostly in more benign forms such as denial, shunning and public dismissal of anyone who actually believes (beyond faith) in a second level of reality or phenomena that can’t be easily explained through material means. Discrimination on the basis of race, religion and sexual orientation is unacceptable in most circles in the 21st century, discrimination and bullying of anyone who doesn’t fit into a materialist paradigm however remains our societal norm.
The widespread assumption in most of modern society continues to be that anyone who actually believes, beyond faith, in knowing or action at a distance, non-physical realities or non-physical causes must be deluded or crazy, and that it is okay to publicly judge, ridicule, discredit or dismiss such people. On a personal level, I am still amazed at the fear that even smart, educated, theoretically open minded people react with at times when confronted with something they can’t explain. Even some of my clients, who have arranged and paid for sessions completely out of their own volition, react with fear when we begin, or when validations that prove the reality of the experience beyond any reasonable doubt start coming through.
Though the fear of magic, and persecution it elicits, mostly masquerades as denial and other relatively benign forms of social ostracism today, there are more serious implications. I cringe to think how many telepathically gifted but troubled and misunderstood people have been locked up in hospitals, pharmacologically numbed into compliant zombies, or have endured intrusive and painful medical procedures at the hands of well meaning professionals acting out of an institutionalized, irrational, fear of magic. Collectively, I don’t think we are anywhere near as enlightened as we would like to believe we are, and in many ways, we have barely left the dark ages.
Although a number of notable physicists, including Albert Einstein, swiftly rejected the Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mechanics after it was proposed, the Copenhagen interpretation became the dominant view among most physicists and was regarded as the standard interpretation for most of the twentieth century. Citing the standard interpretation, any exploration as to:
why an observer is needed in quantum equations,
how the human mind might act as an observer and interact with matter; or
the idea that a second reality exists
has largely been declared pseudoscience, quantum mysticism or meaningless speculation by mainstream scientists for nearly a century. The dismissive environment has created an intolerance towards 'spiritual' people who intuitively know such things to be true. Worse, it has all but stopped the scientific investigation of human consciousness and related research, and skewed research funding to our collective detriment. We cannot hope to solve humanity’s pressing problems if we collectively ignore half of reality and, along with it, half of the human condition.
In a 1935 paper outlining what is known as the EPR paradox, Einstein, along with fellow physicists Podolsky and Rosen, famously and publicly aired his concern with the Copenhagen interpretation. Einstein and his colleagues pointed out that the Copenhagen formulation of quantum mechanics violated the theory of relativity. According to the theory of relativity, it is impossible to accelerate any object, no matter how small, to the speed of light. Quantum mechanics, which the Copenhagen interpretation declared was a complete theory, described quantum particles, in certain situations, instantaneously communicating with one another, regardless of distance. This type of communication between quantum particles is referred to as non-local (independent of location) action at a distance. Einstein felt that, in order for entangled quantum particles to communicate with one another, some sort of signal had to travel between the particles. Since quantum mechanics described instantaneous communication between entangled particles, the signal would have to travel faster than the speed of light, violating the theory of relativity.
Einstein described the nonlocality of quantum particles as “spooky action at a distance”, words that subtly reveal the long-standing and deeply ingrained fear of unmediated action at a distance, or magic, in the scientific community. The EPR paradox framed the debate around quantum physics for decades to come in terms of non-locality, whether one part of the universe can be instantaneously connected to and informed by what is happening in another part of the universe - a debate that entirely sidestepped the bigger existential issue quantum mechanics raised: the existence of a second level of reality.
From a telepaths perspective, Einstein's discomfort with quantum mechanics and “spooky action at a distance” is both interesting and ironic. Einstein is famous for his thought experiments, experiments in which he would get lost in his ‘imagination’ for hours, doing such things as imagining himself as a beam of light. Einstein relates coming back from his thought experiments with answers to his questions about physics and the nature of reality, and credits his ideas for the theory of relativity to one such thought experiment. Some of his better known quotes include “The only real valuable thing is intuition.” and “Imagination is more important than knowledge.” To me, it is very clear that Einstein was a gifted telepath, and very comfortable entering altered states for hours, in which he could find and bring back intuitive understandings and psychic information about the nature of the universe - intuitive understandings that he then described mathematically.
Einstein's intuitive discomfort with Copenhagenism, an ideal that placed a taboo on exploring the aspects of quantum physics that explain why his thought experiments worked so well, is not surprising. It is ironic that Einstein chose to try and discredit Copenhagenism by pointing out that it permitted informed action at a distance - the very means through which I would suggest his much valued intuition and thought experiments functioned. Irony is however a telltale sign of the connected mind at work, and a sign of Einstein's brilliance as a telepath in this case: irony is a form of synchronicity, or meaningful coincidence.
Rather than the meaning of an event being synchronistically or serendipitously aligned with a thought, purpose or intention, the actual meaning of an ironic event is the opposite of that intended. The connected mind functions through focus, whether that focus is positive or negative, and irony and synchronicities are two sides of the same coin. So, although experiments conducted after Einstein's death have shown that action at a distance does occur, contrary to Einstein's discomfort, his intuitive understanding that something was wrong with Copenhagenism was bang on, even if he couldn’t pinpoint exactly why.
Today, there are fourteen plus interpretations of quantum mechanics, all of which imply different things about the nature of the universe and the human mind. One of the central distinctions among the interpretations is whether superposition and the wave nature of matter is real, or not. The question is usually phrased in terms of what the wave-function, the equation that describes the behavior of quantum particles, represents, and whether the wave-function is a mathematical illusion, or represents something real, that actually exists.
The Copenhagen interpretation finally began to lose it’s hegemonic popularity among physicists in the early 21st century, and the news headlines coming out of the physics world have become much more interesting as a result. The many worlds or multiverse interpretation, has gained popularity, possibly due to Stephen Hawking’s advocacy of the idea. The many worlds interpretation proposes that superposition represents infinite parallel universes - universes just like ours that each take different paths through history, all existing at once.
Quantum information or it from bit approaches, originally proposed by physicist John Wheeler, that contend that information is the fundamental building block of the universe have also gained popularity. Such theories suggest that information lies at the core of every particle, every field of force, and space-time itself, an idea that, from a telepath’s perspective makes total sense and goes a long way in explaining what telepaths, psychics and shaman perceive in altered states, and the nature of the information they bring back. One of the earliest and elegantly simple interpretations of quantum mechanics, that has, in many ways, stood the test of time, also closely matches my experience of telepathic reality: pilot wave theory, also known as de-Broglie-Bohm theory.
In Louis De Broglie’s 1924 thesis, which led to the development of quantum mechanics and for which he received the Nobel Prize, De Broglie did away with the concept of wave-particle duality. Instead, De Broglie conceived of matter-waves as connected, indivisible entities, wherein the behaviour and movement of quantum particles is informed and guided by invisible pilot waves. David Bohm expanded De Broglie’s matter-wave theory into an interpretation of quantum mechanics in 1952. In De-Broglie-Bohm theory, quantum matter-waves exist all the time, rather than existing in multiple universes, or vanishing into non-existence when not observed, then collapsing back into particles of physical matter when observed as the Copenhagen interpretation contends.
De-Broglie-Bohm theory describes the behaviour and movement of matter-waves in an equation that essentially depends on the configuration of the entire universe. Nothing is separate. All matter-waves in the universe are connected to, informed, and influenced by the state of all other matter-waves in the universe through an invisible information field of interacting pilot waves (represented by the wave function) that exist in a second level of reality. This second level of reality, a deeper and more fundamental order of existence than the physical world, is non-local: it is everywhere yet in no specific location or time. It pervades, infuses and informs all space, matter and time - thus connecting all matter and all points in space and time.
When David Bohm came across holography, he recognized the striking similarity between the physics of pilot waves, and the physics of holograms. He quickly became convinced that matter-waves, and the universe itself, actually functions through holographic principles: that matter-waves constitute a giant holograph, a second, more immense and fundamental level of reality that is projected onto space and time to give rise to physical universe, which is a kind of giant, moving hologram. Bohm, recognizing that the hologram metaphor provided tremendous insight into how the universe works, dubbed this second level of reality the holomovement.
To better understand holographs, you can think of a holographic film like a still pond. If you throw rocks into a pond, the concentric ripples each rock makes will spread over the entire pond. All the ripples will add together, or cancel out, all over the pond, forming an interference pattern across the surface of the pond. The interference pattern will contain enough information about all the rocks that were thrown into the pond that, given enough time and some math skills, one could reconstruct a picture of the size of each rock thrown into the pond, and the time at which each rock hit the water. Holographic films encode 3D holographic images much like a pond encodes information about rocks thrown into it. The holomovement, the second level of reality that I believe we find ourselves in when we withdraw our focus from our physical bodies (or die), also encodes information about all matter in the universe, through all time, in a similar way.
If you spent enough time throwing rocks into ponds and watching the ripples, or filming rocks being thrown into ponds and watching the films in reverse, you might be able train your mind to accurately imagine the rocks that made any given set of ripple patterns on a pond. This is metaphorically pretty much how I believe we can all learn telepathic abilities: by withdrawing our senses from physical reality, repeatedly, for short periods of time to peer into holographic reality. When we learn to orient ourselves in and navigate the holomovement, we can begin to recognize useful information that we can correlate with the physical world. Over time, we can become better and better at recognizing holographic information and understanding what it means.
Holography gives us exacting insight as to how this process works and how the information we find in the holomovement relates to physical reality. Seeing a real hologram can also help us break through limiting beliefs by showing us, in real life, on a micro scale, how information can exist in two dimensions and be projected into three dimensions. Unfortunately, most people today are only familiar with a type of hologram called a rainbow hologram, commonly found on children’s toys and credit cards, and have not experienced the jaw dropping, reach out and touch, three-dimensional realism of a true hologram generated with lasers. When we look at a rainbow hologram at just the right angle, a very real looking three dimensional image appears that can be viewed from many angles, just like a real object. Though rainbow holograms are impressive, their design makes compromises to permit them to be viewed under normal lighting conditions. Rainbow holograms aren’t nearly as impressive or three dimensionally real looking as true holograms generated with laser light.
To make a true hologram, a three-dimensional image made of light that literally appears in thin air, lasers are required. A beam of laser light is split. Part of the beam is used to illuminate an object, and the other part of the beam, the reference beam, is reflected around the object, towards a holographic film. The laser light that bounces off the illuminated object is recombined with the reference beam, and the interference pattern the two beams create is captured on film. A light field is captured, rather than a slice of points of light a photograph captures. The process is similar to sound recording where sound fields, containing spectrums of sound vibrations, are captured on a record, MP3 or compact disc. Just like sound recordings have to be played back through speakers to recreate the original sound, holographs must be 'played back' by illuminating a holograph with a reconstruction beam - a beam of the same laser light used to make the holograph, aimed at the holograph at exactly the same angle as the angle of the reference beam used to capture the holograph. When a reconstruction beam passes through a holograph, a hologram appears in thin air on the other side of the holograph.
There are two important things to understand about holography here. First, you can capture many different holograms on a single two-dimensional surface. Several thousand three dimensional images can be stored on a surface or film by changing the angle of the reference beam used to capture each holograph. Each 3D hologram can be projected from the film by illuminating the film with laser light at the same angle as the reference beam used to record an object’s holograph. In other words, what you see when you look at a hologram depends entirely on the perspective from which you illuminate the holograph that gives rise to it. A single holograph can produce thousands of completely different 3D holograms, which hologram you see depends entirely on the angle that you view (or illuminate) the holograph from.
Secondly, holographs are self-referential. They look the same at many scales and each part of a holograph encodes the entirety of all the holograms stored on it. If you cut a holographic film into pieces, no matter the shape or size of the pieces you cut, as long as there are enough ‘ripples’ to create an interference pattern, each piece of a holograph will still contain the exact holograms as the original film, only blurrier with a slightly different angles of view. Each piece of a holographic film cut into parts can still be used to view all of the original images recorded on it.
I think of the focus of my consciousness in altered states as a sort of holographic reconstruction beam. When I withdraw my focus from physical reality, I believe that I find myself in the holomovement, or subtle reality as I call it. My focus and consciousness ‘projects’ whatever I focus on in subtle reality into a sort of hologram in my mind. Information about anything and everything in the entire universe is theoretically available, as each part of subtle reality reflects the whole. Finding the right ‘perspective’ or ‘focus’ to separate out and ‘project’ desired information from an infinite storehouse of information is the challenge. I believe that this ability is universal and the experience commonplace. Understood as ‘overlays’ of images of non-physical realities onto the holographic images in our minds we believe to be physical reality, a range of so called hallucinations, visions, and mystical or paranormal experiences can be readily explained and understood.
In David Bohm’s conception, quantum physics describes the physical universe as a holographic projection of an immense underlying holograph- the holomovement- a word he coined to emphasize its dynamic, flowing nature. Bohm saw the holomovement giving rise to the physical universe, just as a holograph gives rise to a hologram, and the physical universe in a state of constant unfoldment from, and enfoldment back into the holomovement. In the holomovement, all points in space converge and become one interconnected ocean of information and energy, on which an immense holographic interference pattern dances.
Just like a holographic film, each point in the holomovement contains the whole, and so every piece of matter in the universe is interconnected and informed by the state of the rest of the universe. Information giving rise to the past, present and future states of the physical world is 'encoded' in the holomovement, information that, like energy in the physical world, cannot be destroyed. I think, this is why, as a telepath, I can obtain certain types of information about almost anything past, present or future.
When David Bohm met Karl Pribram, holonomic brain theory fit into Bohm’s conception of the holomovement perfectly. The human mind now had a basis in physics, as a living holograph within the holomovement. Suddenly nothing, human beings and the human mind included, could be considered separate or isolated. The entire universe had to be considered as one, interconnected whole, every part of which interacts with every other part through the holomovement. In the holomovement, consciousness and matter, both forms of holographically encoded information would be essentially equivalent, and would interact with one another. Bohm proposed that consciousness could be understood as a subtler form of matter.
The human mind, existing as a dynamic holograph within the holomovement, could be said to exist in a second level of reality, a deeper, more fundamental reality existing outside of space and time as we know it. Bohm’s physics and Pribram’s biology pointed to human beings existing simultaneously in two realities: as material brains atop bodies in physical reality, arising from non-physical minds encoded within the holomovement. As the physical world arises from the holomovement, not the other way around, and the holomovement encodes the past, present and future, the human mind could then be thought of as an immortal living holograph and the body its material expression. As part of the holomovement, the human mind would also be informed and influenced by the state of the rest of the entire universe, past, present and future, and would therefore be inherently and naturally telepathic.
Thinking Outside of the Brain
“Is this the real life?
Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide,
No escape from reality.
Open your eyes,
Look up to the skies and see…”
~ Bohemian Rhapsody, Queen
Working in collaboration with David Bohm, Karl Pribram developed his insight that the brain is a holographic organ into holonomic brain theory, which he fully described in his 1991 book Brain and Perception. Holonomic brain theory models the brain as a holographic storage network, where our memories and minds are encoded as interference patterns in waves of electricity that flow back and forth over our brains: our brain waves. Different parts of the brain convert nerve impulses from our body, skin, eyes and ears into electromagnetic waveforms and perform different functions in processing the waveforms, but the whole brain works as single unit over which holographic waveforms are stored and manipulated.
As brilliant as Pribram’s discovery was, it did not receive a lot of attention in the scientific community or mass media. The theory explained a number of mysteries about the brain, our consciousness and how the mind works, and even provided mathematical models through which aspects of consciousness and the mind could be understood, however, Pribram’s theory was a quantum leap for the scientific community to digest. Holonomic brain theory wrenched the study of the mind away from the conventional biology and medicine and brought the study of the human mind firmly into the realm of quantum physics. Though the idea that quantum processes are somehow related to consciousness and the human mind had emerged with the advent of quantum physics in 1920’s, the subject of what role, if any, quantum physics plays in the human mind remains rather taboo in the mainstream scientific community, where the concept is still dismissively referred to as quantum mysticism.
Although David Bohm is considered to be one of the most significant physicists of the 20th century, his work did not receive much attention in the mainstream media or scientific community either. He is acknowledged to have made significant contributions to physics, neuropsychology and philosophy of mind, and although his work is considered creative, it has generally been considered unorthodox. His ideas have however stood the test of time. Around 1978, physicists again came across a second level of reality when what is known as the holographic principle emerged as a property of string theory.
String theory is now considered by many physicists to be the best candidate for a theory of everything and the holographic principle, in its widest sense, suggests that the universe is a two dimensional information structure 'projected' onto the three dimensional cosmos we see with our eyes, just as in Bohm’s conception. In Bohm’s words, the universe is comprised of the two dimensional holomovement, which gives rise to the three dimensional physical universe.
String theory made a big leap forward in 1997 thanks to the most reliable realization of the holographic principle to date known as gauge/gravity correspondence. Formulated by theoretical physicist Juan Maldacena, the correspondence shows that a number of physics theories that describe gravity, previously thought to be incompatible with theories describing quantum physics, actually describe the same physics. The correspondence has allowed physicists to translate calculations back and forth between gravity theories, and quantum field theories. When gravitational theory is hard to solve, quantum field theory is easy to solve and vice versa.
Maldacena’s discovery has led to continual advances in string theory since 1997, and each success has further validated the notion that we live in a holographic universe: quantum field theories require one less dimension than gravity theories, suggesting that quantum interactions take place in a dimension or reality with one less dimension than the physical world. News headlines like “The Universe Is a Hologram”, or “Physicists Say We Live in A Computer Simulation” have appeared with some regularity as string theory has progressed. The implications of living in a holographic universe, however, never make the news and the profound significance of gauge/gravity correspondence is overlooked as a result.
Broadly generalized, gauge/gravity correspondence tells us is that quantum physics and gravity physics are two ways of looking at, describing and understanding the very same thing. If there is a larger lesson to be learned from this insight, it is that holographic/physical or spiritual/material realities are one and the same, and that holographic/physical or spiritual/material ways of looking at the world are just different perspectives on the very same thing. Some problems are impossible to solve from a physical or logical perspective, but are easy to solve from a holographic or spiritual perspective, and vice versa. Truly understanding life, the universe and finding solutions to life’s biggest questions and problems may require the ability to seamlessly switch back and forth between these perspectives.
Research related to holonomic brain theory continues to the present day, though the theory remains a largely ignored, but important part of our understanding of the brain. Physicists, and another brave medical doctor have however evolved holonomic brain theory into quantum mind theories. The physician-physicist team now leading the charge towards a comprehensive, experimentally verifiable quantum mind theory is comprised of Stuart Hameroff, anesthesiologist at the University of Arizona, and Sir Roger Penrose, emeritus professor of mathematics at Oxford University.
In his first book on consciousness, The Emperor’s New Mind, Penrose, who has made significant contributions to relativity theory and cosmology, outlined a mathematical proof that a computational neural network, which the human brain is conventionally thought to be, cannot give rise to the observed intelligence and complexity of the human mind. The idea is that, if the brain is a computational machine, then we would walk around more like zombies on autopilot, following set programming rather than being able to make meaningfully considered, creative choices about our lives. Penrose proposed that non-computational quantum processes are the only possible explanation for human intelligence. Penrose, however, lacked a detailed proposal for how quantum processes could take place in the brain. Hameroff, who was also researching how quantum processes in the brain could be responsible for consciousness, provided the detailed anatomical structure: cellular microtubules.
Single-cell organisms like bacteria display amazingly intelligent behaviour. They respond to environmental changes with incredibly complex solutions and work cooperatively, en masse to do so. Single celled organisms, like amoebae, hunt for food, find mates, learn and remember in complex situations, and have even been observed to navigate mazes for food. The intelligent behaviour of microorganisms is hard to explain if you believe that brains give rise to intelligence, as single cell organisms lack both nervous systems and brains. As early as 1957, neurophysiologist and bacteriologist Charles Sherrington proposed that the interior scaffolding of cells, the cytoskeleton, which is primarily made of microtubules, might serve as a sort of nervous system. Microtubules are present in all living cells (except plants cells, which have cell walls instead) and self-assemble to establish cell shape, direct growth and organize cellular functions.
Microtubules are particularly prevalent and stable in nerve cells. In the human body, neurons each contain around a billion microtubules that can reach up to a meter in length. Anesthesia molecules, which temporarily blot out consciousness, as well as the proteins thought to cause Alzheimer’s disease, bind to microtubules within brain cells, so microtubules seem to play an important role in human consciousness as well as microbial intelligence. Microtubules are primarily made of a protein molecule called tubulin. Tubulin is a very interesting protein because it can hold information in a number of ways: it can take on up to twelve different shapes, attach to, and be modified by other proteins (MAPS or microtubule associated proteins) and it is magnetically dipolar. Tubulin molecules are microscopic ‘on-off’ switches much like transistors, the fundamental building blocks of computers. Tubulin molecules self-assemble into microtubules in very specific patterns, and in nerve cells, tubulin molecules line up dipole to dipole in hexagonal lattices forming networks suitable for information storage and processing.
In the mid-1990’s, Penrose and Hameroff proposed that human consciousness is the result of biologically orchestrated, coherent quantum processes in collections of microtubules within brain cells. Their proposal connects consciousness and brain biology to a novel interpretation of quantum physics, which in turn is based on gravity and general relativity - a first step towards a true theory of everything that describes biology and consciousness as well as gravity and quantum fields. In Penrose and Hameroff’s orchestrated objective reduction or Orch OR theory, superposed matter-waves are real and matter can exist in many places at once. Superposed matter creates different geometries in space-time as it spreads out to take different paths through spacetime. At a critical point, the energy difference between different spacetime geometries becomes too great, and matter-waves collapse out of superposition into single particles in unique positions in space and time.
Large objects can’t exist in superposition because the resultant energy difference between space time geometries would be very large. Quantum particles however can exist in superposition for indefinite lengths of time. Moments of proto-consciousness, an inherent level of consciousness that exists throughout the universe, occur each time a matter-wave collapses from superposition back into a single particle state. The collapse, or reduction of matter-waves into particles is objectively determined by the nature of gravity and spacetime rather than by an observation or a choice between multiple universes. The brain utilizes this objective reduction threshold to create cyclical, sustained states of superposition where multiple electrons become entangled with one another across tens of thousands of microtubules. Reduction of the superposed electron-waves back into electron particles is biologically orchestrated by nerve cells in the brain to produce consciousness.
In the brain, superposition occurs across entire regions of the brain, and consciousness literally “moves around the brain in a mobile synchronized zone, within which isolated, entangled microtubules carry out quantum computations and orchestrated objective reduction”. Each cycle of superposition is imbued with cognitive information, such that integration, non-computational information processing and moments of consciousness can occur. These cyclical moments of meaningful, cognitive awareness and choice are fed back through microtubules, which, coupled to neuronal activity, allow causal control over behaviour and neural plasticity (the reorganization or re-wiring of neuronal pathways). Human consciousness occurs in discrete moments, that occur between 30 and 75 times per second, arising from the brain’s overall beat frequency - the combination and interference of multiple higher frequency microtubule vibrations within the brain - in line with EEG measurements, the ‘flickering’ of consciousness trained meditators report and the number of thoughts per second yogic and Buddhist texts report we have.
Orch OR was harshly criticized when it was introduced, mostly because the brain was thought to be “too warm, wet and noisy” for the delicate quantum coherence proposed by the theory to take place. The theory has however stood the test of time and has led to novel research that, so far, supports the predictions made by the theory. In 2006 quantum coherence, where electrons spread out in superposition across multiple cells, was confirmed to occur in plants and is now thought to be an essential to photosynthesis. Warm quantum coherence has also been found to play an essential role in bird-brain navigation, the sense of smell, the folding of DNA and proteins, and water in living cells. In 2013, Japanese researchers confirmed that quantum effects do occur in microtubules at body temperature, and that microtubules, normally extremely good insulators, become exceedingly good conductors at certain resonant frequencies of applied alternating current.
Penrose and Hameroff suggest that their theory is not complete, and a more complete theory is likely to be far more complex, but that by formulating a testable, falsifiable theory that has so far stood up to experimental investigation, they have firmly brought the study of consciousness into the realm of respectable scientific investigation. In doing so, they have started to further ease the ‘Copenhagen taboo’ on making inferences about the human mind based on quantum physics.
What I find most interesting about Penrose and Hameroff’s work is that it points to several levels of mind with a sharp distinction between mind as a neural network and mind as a quantum process that yields both consciousness and non-computable information processing. On one level, the brain clearly functions as the reasoning, learning, pattern recognizing neural network that medicine and science have a substantial understanding of. Underneath the neural activity we can see and measure however, there appears to be four or more levels of self-similar activity and structure. Underneath and giving rise to all of it, are microtubule networks, which, by utilizing quantum superposition to process information, offer an exponential increase in the theoretical processing power of the brain: a true quantum leap in intelligence. Hameroff and Penrose calculate the processing power of tubulin networks within a single neuron to be ten quadrillion (1016 or one thousand trillion) operations per second. Conventional approaches that calculate the processing power of the brain based only on the number of connections between neurons give the same number for the entire human brain! We may be a quadrillion times smarter than science once thought we were, and artificial intelligence may be a lot further off than many scientists once hoped (or feared).
Quantum information processing is particularly suited to problems where the best solution out of many possibilities must be found. Using superposition, quantum computers (which are in their infancy) are able to compare many solutions to a problem simultaneously, whereas ordinary serial processing computers must generate one answer to a problem at a time, then compare each answer to every other answer. Deceptively simple problems like finding the fastest route around a city when there are many stops to make are very, very hard to solve by calculating one solution at a time because the number of solutions multiplies exponentially with the number of stops. Ordinary serial computers can take hours to generate and compare the millions of possible solutions to such seemingly simple problems. Deceptively simple problems like finding the minimum number of people to invite to a party so that a certain number of guests know each other and a certain number don’t are considered realistically impossible to solve computationally by mathematicians if 6 or more guests of each type are to be invited to a party. By generating and comparing all answers to such problems simultaneously, quantum processing can quickly solve these types of optimization problems that are considered computationally unsolvable.
If the human mind does have two interacting components, a serial-logic like component and quantum like component, the quantum mind would be naturally better at solving problems typical of the human condition, like “What should I do now?”. In any given moment, every human being on the planet has nearly infinite options to choose from. We can turn left or right, walk or sit, work or play, sleep or eat, rest or adventure, socialize or meditate, etc. Among each of these choices, we have nearly infinite options: what to eat, who to play with, how to work, etc. Choosing the best solutions from amongst infinite possibilities is one way to characterize the human condition and it should be no surprise that part of our mind is perfectly and exquisitely designed to do so.
The fact that following one’s heart, gut and intuition in life works out far better than decisions based on logic alone (in my experience at least) should also not be surprising. If part of our mind is able to instantly select the best solutions out of millions of possibilities, as a quantum bio-computer might be capable of, then what we have labelled intuition is simply part of our mind doing what it does naturally rather than a mystical ability. Intuition then, can be understood simply as a very complex form of thought, a form of thought that is far superior to logic for making decisions when there are many variables or possibilities involved.
If we can accept that the quantum like component of our mind exists in a second, information based, holographic like level of reality, then intuition and our quantum minds deserve a whole new level of appreciation. If our quantum minds are informed by the actual state of the universe, past, present and future, then our thoughts are not solely the imaginary constructs of our brains. Our quantum minds would be inherently telepathic and would be capable of solving problems by integrating a staggering breadth of actual information about the state of our environment, the future, and other quantum minds. Pure intuition would not be just a good guess. Pure intuition would represent a calculated optimization solution based on direct real time information, including information about the future.
'Thinking' solely within our quantum minds would not be imaginary or conceptual, rather, it would represent very real optimization solutions based on all relevant, real information - a staggering level of genius that is difficult to appreciate. Connected to and integrated with neural networks in our brains however, what we might call our bio-minds, our quantum minds would not only reflect actual information about the state of the universe. Each cycle of quantum information processing would be imbued with cognitive information from our bio-minds: information obtained through our physical senses, from our memories, and/or imagined information along with a desire, question, and intention.
The thinking of an integrated bio/quantum mind would likely be mixed: partly based on real information reflecting the actual state of the universe, and partly imaginary, based on the bio-mind’s conceptual or made up information. However, if we could quiet our bio-minds so that no imaginary or false information is imbued in each cycle of quantum information processing, accurate information about the state of the rest of the universe, past present or future could be obtained.
Optimization solutions generated by a quantum mind with access to information about past, present and future states of the universe would be infallible, and would represent a staggering level of inclusive genius, if a quantum mind could be imbued with 'pure' or 'clean' cognitive information in the form of a question or intention, and the answer understood. I believe this is exactly what skilled telepaths, shaman, gurus and spiritual luminaries are able to do to obtain accurate information and 'wisdom' about any decision, problem, or subject, past, present or future.
I also believe that when we purposefully wonder about a life choice, decision or topic, then let go and relax into a receptive state, we imbue our quantum minds with cognitive information. Our quantum minds, which I believe are a component or part of our connected minds, then integrate a staggering breadth of information related to the subject we wondered about to compute and return 'optimization solutions'. Optimization solutions come back to us in the form of sentience: amalgams of sensory information, feelings, ideas, emotions, awareness and knowings. I believe that during this process, our connected minds explore millions of optimization solutions, in the form of possible futures simultaneously, using actual information about the state of the world, other minds, and the future. I also believe that telepathic communication between beings occurs through the same sort of process where information and optimization solutions, in the form of 'bubbles' of sentience, are swapped back and forth between beings.
Imbuing one’s quantum mind with a universally beneficent intention such as “for my highest good, and the highest good of the planet”, as well as a specific question or intention is therefore highly important and does three things. First, it creates strict parameters around which one’s connected mind is asked to explore possible futures and optimization solutions, thereby enabling it to provide better and more specific answers. Secondly, a universally beneficent intention and a specific question vastly narrows down the field of optimization solutions or possible futures to be explored. Solutions to problems, possible futures and life paths that do not support that greater good or have unintended negative consequences are not explored, allowing one’s quantum mind to explore much further into the future, and deeper into possibilities that resonate with the highest good. Thirdly, I believe that such universally beneficent intentions invite co-operative, telepathic communication between the connected minds of many beings, who resonate with similar intentions.
In bringing many connected minds together, in alignment towards a common purpose, I believe that exponentially better, further reaching (into the future and possibility) ‘non-computable optimization solutions’ are created. The optimization solutions that many connected minds working together would be capable of generating would reflect an astounding level of inclusive genius that finite bio-minds would never be capable of generating, or even appreciating, let alone understanding. This is why, sometimes, when working with pure intention towards desired outcomes and everything goes wrong, we have to trust everything in our lives happens for a reason, for our highest good, even if we can’t logically understand in the moment why something is happening to us.
The optimization solutions of many connected minds working together, returned to each being tuned into the process, would serve to guide and inspire every being willing to 'listen' to their connected minds towards the physical manifestation of such solutions. These types of cooperatively generated optimization solutions would become blueprints of sorts around which the actual future would form. If many people consistently tuned into their connected minds with beneficent intention and shared goals, their thoughts and actions would synchronistically unite around the shared vision, allowing many people (and beings) to work together as a telepathically orchestrated whole to realize the shared vision. Many synchronistic occurrences in our own lives, many of humanity's greatest achievements, and many phenomena in nature can best be explained as the result of such telepathically orchestrated co-creation.
The law of attraction, the well known new age axiom that your thoughts create your reality, and that focusing our thoughts and emotions with sensory detail manifests resonant experiences into our lives, can be understood as telepathically orchestrated co-creation. Understanding that the law of attraction functions through telepathic co-creation rather than through a mysterious, sometimes beneficent, sometimes indifferent universe, goes a long way in explaining many of the common successes and failures working with the law of attraction, and allows those practicing the art of manifestation to do so with greater precision and success.
Our entire universe has in fact always functioned through telepathic co-creation, continually evolving in cyclic loops around collective ideas and memories that guide, inspire and drive the behavior and function of everything, living or not. These collective ideas and memories have functioned perfectly for billions of years to create the universe we see now, but as conscious beings, we now have the ability to recognize the collective ideas and memories that drive us, let go of what no longer serves us, and skillfully contribute to the creation and manifestation of new collective ideas that serve, fulfill and thrill us.
We will explore the hypothesis of morphic resonance, the scientific term for telepathic co-creation in later chapters. For now, simply notice that everything in nature and our lives has a pattern. Sometimes these patterns are simple, cyclic, or geometric, often they are fractal and complex, and difficult to discern. But at the core of every pattern, there is a formative recipe that exists outside of space and time. When you perceive these recipes, you understand nature and yourself.
Now, this whole two minds conjecture may seem like a stretch, except that for decades, cognitive psychologists have described the human mind as being comprised of two systems: system 1 (the label widely used in psychology) is very fast, operates effortlessly, automatically and near instantaneously with little sense of voluntary control, so we don’t generally even realize we are using it. It is non-verbal, associative and abstract, and is thought to process massive amounts of information simultaneously. We use system 1 to do complex tasks like move our bodies, manipulate objects, understand sounds and recognize or compare objects and faces. System 1 is intuitive, sensory, emotional and works so quickly, with such complexity, that we can’t watch or understand how it works. Most people have no conscious awareness when they we are using system 1, or that they even have a system 1. It is the metaphorical water in which we swim. System 1 has therefore been labelled our unconscious mind.
System 2 on the other hand is slow. We can follow it working, so we are aware of, and understand its functioning. System 2 requires concentration and effort to use. It works sequentially, one step at a time. It focuses attention, logically solves problems and makes decisions. System 2 is what most people think of as ‘themselves’ because we can watch it working (thinking). We can explain ‘what we were thinking’ when we use system 2, so system 2 has been labelled the conscious mind.
The two systems of thought that psychologists broadly recognize all humans use bears an uncanny resemblance to the quantum mind/bio-mind system that quantum mind theories point to. System 2, what psychologists label our conscious mind, has the qualities of a computational neural network. The conscious mind is relatively easy to study. We can observe our conscious minds working and explain ‘what we were thinking’, so the conscious mind has been studied ad nauseam by psychologists and psychiatrists and is relatively well understood.
The unconscious mind is however an enduring mystery to science and medicine that defies material explanation. Scientifically documented abilities attributed to the unconscious mind include:
recognition of messages displayed too quickly or spoken too softly to be detected consciously
the ability to accurately count hundreds of objects instantaneously
the ability to count seconds into the tens of thousands
the ability to solve complex math problems instantaneously
production of stigmata and other wounds
the ability to painlessly and bloodlessly sustain wounds and impailments through skin and muscle
changes in eye colour, changes in body shape, changes in allergies (particularly in transitions between personalities is cases of schizophrenia)
spontaneous healing of ‘incurable’ conditions
precognition, clairvoyance, spontaneous knowing
various forms of telepathy
All of these abilities are impossible for a neural network isolated in our brains to perform or orchestrate. However, if part of our minds is not in our brains at all, but resides in a second level of reality, a holographic, information based level of reality that gives rise to physical reality, then many of these so called paranormal abilities are understandable and very normal. There is nothing paranormal about them. The astounding feats our so called unconscious minds are capable of are simply the result of informed quantum information processing.
Magical and paranormal phenomena, such as spontaneous healing, are the result of changes to information structures in the second level of reality that gives rise to physical reality, and therefore our physical bodies. Holographic information, existing in a non-local, second reality, expressing itself into three dimensional physical reality is simply the basis of how everything in our world is created and functions. The mind can then be thought of as an intermediary, or a bridge between these two realities, and a tool through which holographic information expresses, perceives and understands itself.
If system 1 does indeed correspond to a quantum like mind, existing in a second, information based level of reality that gives rise to the physical world, then labelling system 1 our unconscious mind is however as deeply unfortunate as it is untrue. Untrue because if system 1 is a quantum mind, then it is our true conscious mind: it is how and where each and every moment of conscious awareness we experience occurs. Unfortunate, because this part of our minds may be orders of magnitude more intelligent than our logical, thinking minds and infinitely more capable of understanding anything we desire to know about.
By labelling this part of our minds our ‘unconscious’, we have collectively mislabeled, misunderstood, disparaged, denied and vastly underutilized the most intelligent part of ourselves and the source of our consciousness. If we do indeed have quantum like minds that can perform infinitely complex optimization calculations using actual information about the state of the universe, then it is our quantum minds, not our thinking minds, that represent the possibility of true consciousness - full, accurate and timely awareness of ourselves, our infinite potentials, our place in the universe, and all of the effects of our choices and actions....