The Spirit Speaks of the Soul

june 1995


It was as if he were seeing the starry heavens as a shooting star would if a star had eyes. At first, Stephen sped through space at such a rapid speed that the stars were a blur of streak lines. He suddenly slowed down to a near standstill, and he began moving in slow motion. He was floating in space as noiselessly and effortlessly as a helium-filled balloon being carried aloft by a gentle summer breeze. A framed doorway appeared. An earth-mother stood within it. She was a Native American wearing a beaded deer-skin vest and skirt. Her long ebony-colored hair glistened. Her face was welcoming and happy.

Another framed doorway appeared as he continued his journey through space. In this portal there stood a beautiful young woman with long chestnut-brown hair. She wore a full-length black skirt, high-buttoned black shoes, and a cream-colored high-collared blouse with long sleeves. Her arms were raised above her head while she attempted to pin up her long locks into an ample bun. Her hair style and apparel appeared to be Victorian. There was a slight resemblance to old sepia-colored photographs of Stephen’s maternal grandmother.

Suddenly, he felt himself speed up. He was hurtling through space toward a distant doorway. It was empty and dark as though it was only a door frame suspended in the star-speckled darkness of space. No mother-figure was present in this one. He sped through it and came to an abrupt halt. At first, he felt encased in a small body. His tiny arms and hands were grasping for something to hold on to in order to feel some stability. He felt as if the tiny body was floating in a warm liquid. Without warning, he was overcome with fear. Every cell of this little body he was inhabiting was ablaze with fear of the burning, inescapable sensations of gnawing hunger.

A fear of starving to death threatened the existence of every cell as a brush fire gone out of control threatens all in its path. Every cell in this little flesh form was on fire with fear and the searing sensations of hunger. Somehow he sensed this fear dated back to the dawn of human history. Ancient. Primitive. Unrelenting. No relief was forthcoming. Finally, he stopped struggling and faced the fact that there was nowhere to go and nothing to do to escape.

At that very moment of surrender and acceptance, he felt a larger consciousness hovering above and to the right of this little body. As soon as he, as the consciousness encased in the little body, merged with the larger awareness, he felt relief. He felt free of the fear and hunger as he began to observe the overwhelming fear of the pain of starving to death. He was no longer threatened. His perspective shifted from being in the fire of fear and hunger to simply being still and watching the fear and hunger from above. He felt peaceful and calm once he, experiencing himself as the consciousness stuffed into the little form of flesh, merged with the spacious awareness of this transcendent consciousness.

The spaciousness of this awareness was both within and beyond the boundaries of the little body. He stopped identifying with the little body feeling fear and hunger. Minutes passed. Eventually, the gnawing pain of hunger abated, as if absorbed by this larger and calmer consciousness.

* * *

Who are these two seemingly separate sets of consciousness who first appeared as one like a shooting star? The smaller one is the soul (mind, will, and emotions) who arrived in a body at 10:12 p.m. on September 3, 1947 and was named Stephen Royal Jackson shortly after emerging from his mother’s womb. I, the narrator of this book, am the more expansive consciousness who is not limited to the confines of his body. i am Stephen’s spirit—the transcendent portion of his soul. I have always been there by his side like a guardian angel watching over him, the embodied soul.

Only after donning the soul suit or corporeal costume of the body does the soul stop being an androgynous “it” (a balanced unity of male and female) and experience itself as a separate consciousness embodied as a him or her. Soul begins to identify with the body and forgets about its connection to spirit.

One day, Stephen came across the word sidereal (pronounced sigh-dear-real). Sidereal is defined as “of or pertaining to the stars.” After that, he has referred to me, his spirit, as the radiant star of his divine sidereal self. He considers me his spiritual compass, his personal Polaris (North Star) guiding him through the dark nights of the soul caused by the inner and outer storms of life.

At the same time that I hover by his body to guide him, i am also deeply within his body as his innermost heart. To the embodied soul it is a great mystery and paradox how my awareness exists both inside and outside the body. I hear his thoughts and feel what he feels in his body: emotions, desires, sensations, etcetera. My essence is that of a caring, compassionate, and comforting consciousness. I cushion the blows delivered by life. His experience in the womb helped him see that he had a choice in times of stress: be still and identify with me, his spirit, or remain stressed and frantic by identifying with his body.

• Today, take some slow, deep breaths and see if you can get in touch with the calm, larger consciousness that is the transcendent portion of your soul. [The above is taken from The Space Between Stars www.drsrj.com]