Stephen's Secure Blog #37
These stories about Stephen began was when he was 10 years old, and
moving to a new part of the country to attend a special school for
gifted students, in the 1950's. This was from a time before computers
would fit on a desk, and when people communicated with friends in other
countries by actual letters sent through the postal service. He wrote
225 of them to a friend. He stopped writing to his penpal, but found he
still wanted to record his life, in case he lost his memory again, and
wrote 30 entries in his first logbook. Then he wrote to an artificial
intelligence called Geenee, in the master computer in his school for
gifted students, which he started attending in 2016. Now it's 2018 and
later, and he's continuing to save his memories in a secure blog.
All characters are fictitious, even if some of them might have names
that belong to some actual people, or act like people we know.
The stories may not be posted in chronological order.
Stephen is 12 in this story, in the Summer after year 2 of his special
school.
Stephen's Secure Blog #37 "Lives Told"
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I worked in the barn on the wood carving early the next morning,
after the usual mutual squirting with Hawk. When it was time for
breakfast, I had the final size done, of 80cm wide, and 60cm tall, and
16cm deep. I had carved down most of the light layer to where I could
begin the actual sculpture, with the integrated picture frame. It was
going to be a carving like a cameo, in the form of a wall picture, like
a 3D painting in wood. The background would be of the dark layer, and
the sculpted part would be in the light colored wood, with the frame of
both colors, depending in how I carved it. When I went to have
breakfast, I left a device I made for the purpose, which would put a
shield around it to protect it from being touched or seen except by me.
At breakfast I said, "The project is going well." Hawk's father said,
"What kind of tools are you using?" I said "Knives and gouges with
blades made of tungsten carbide. Very sharp. Practically glide through
the wood." He said "How do you sharpen them?" I said "I don't. I make
them like I made the diamond Mongol. I just make new ones when I need
them. Here, I'll make one now." I ported one to the table in front of
him. I said "I suggest you don't touch the edge. It's so sharp you
can't feel it. I've had a few cuts from them, myself." He said "Ah, too
late."
His thumb was bleeding. I got up from my chair and went around the
table to him, and took his hand. I reached for energy, and converted it
to the healing kind, and pushed it at the cut and willed it to heal,
while I was holding the edges of it together with 4th tools. Ten
seconds later it was fully healed. He wiped his thumb and said, "Wow!"
Hawk said, "I agree. Not even a scar." Rose looked slyly at me and
said, "That's really thumbthing." We all laughed, but I was the
loudest. I said to her, "You're really good at that. I love it.
Thanks." She said, a little embarrassed, "Thank you." Her mother said,
"That would be a real gift to mankind, if you could do that for
everybody. I'm surprised somebody who cares for people as much as you
do, doesn't do much more healing." I said "Because a lot of people
would die. I'll explain. First, I don't know how much of that I can do,
and what kind of things it might work on. Should I trust it where
people's lives are concerned? Second, it's against the law to practice
medicine without a license, and I'm not even old enough to get one for
driving. Can't help much in prison. Third, how do I choose who to help,
and not to help, with the limited time I would have available, of the
many millions would would want it? How can I play God like that? I
think it would kill me, and then I couldn't help anybody. Forth, THEY
would kill me, or try to, for not helping everybody, if this went
public. Emotions would overrule common sense, so nobody would be
helped. I've thought about this for a VERY long time. In fact, in my
incarnation right after the Mongol life, I actually asked a dead Saint
to stop performing miracles, because of all that."
Cress said, "Did you REALLY do that?" I said "Absolutely. Then the
miracles stopped. It's funny in a way, because I hid from myself the
fact that it was I who was actually doing the healing. I never let me
believe I was an Adept then, because I was a Catholic Monk, and that
would have been called witchcraft. Except for one thing which I loved,
and considered it God's gift. I could talk to the animals. I had my
stone with me then, too, which was verified in my last life. Oh, and I
could project my love then, even though I didn't think that was all
that much. Got me a lot of followers, though." Hawk said "I'll bet!"
His father said to me, "What was your name?" I grinned and said,
"Giovanni." He said "I suspected you were somebody else." I said
"That's a problem. Some forms of incurable insanity cause people to
believe they are a famous dead person, like Napoleon, or Queen
Victoria. Other people fantasize about past lives where they were
famous people. Who wants to remember a boring life? Not me! So, I try
to avoid telling people about some of my lives, so I don't get mistaken
for those, well, charlatans." Hawk said "You don't trust us to believe
you?" I said "It's better not to encourage that temptation. Anyway,
some of my incarnations have been verified by Church records, before I
had the ability to research them myself, and even before I believed I
had lived them. That Monk was one of them. How about this one? I was
Santa Claus."
Cress' mouth dropped open in surprise. After she recovered, she said,
"Really?" I said "He was called Nikolaos, Bishop of Myra. Then Saint
Nicholas. He lived in the Greek area which is now Turkey, a little
before and after 300AD. Contrary to current popular belief, he was NOT
a nice man, and full of contradictions, but very strong, sometimes
violently so, in his beliefs. I don't like remembering that life. I was
another Saint before that, who didn't deserve to be one in any way. He
died a fanatic, and was called a martyr by the very people who were
glad to get rid of him, a rabble rousing troublemaker of the worst
sort. I'm ashamed to have been those two." Hawk said "Wow, doubled!" I
nodded. I said "Now you know why I don't believe in religions. I've
been IN them, and know they are no better than the people who run
them."
His father said, "I was thinking of going to the rodeo this
afternoon." I said "That would be interesting. Because of what happened
yesterday, I couldn't do any art there. I wouldn't mind trying to do
some of the events, but they probably wouldn't let me, and I don't like
what they do to the animals to make them buck. I sure would buck, and a
lot more, if they did that to ME." Hawk laughed. His mother said, "What
if somebody is injured there?" I said, That's another concern. I would
need to help, and they would need to stop me from helping. That
situation happened in my last life, with a little girl. Want to hear
about it?" They did. So I told them, and with pictures. After Jeremy
was knocked down, Hawk said "That was Jeremy, who runs the summer
camp?" I said "Yes. He was my new foster brother of a few days, then.
What I did next was a little violent. Jeremy was the most gentle and
loving person anybody ever knew. I learned how to hug with love from
with the story. I said "The Chief and I became friends after that, and
he helped me with some other bad situations, and came to my birthday
parties. So did Officer David Chang. Mr. Johnson never let me pay for
anything I ever bought there for years after that, even for sports gear
for another new brother. He was our real athletic supporter." Hawk and
his father laughed.
Cress said, "You just talk about boy lives. Weren't you ever a girl?"
I said "Yes, I was a girl. It's the oldest incarnation I remember, and
the most important to me and this world. But because I was a woman,
people wouldn't believe my warnings, and a terrible thing happened
because of that. I was so angry and sad about that, it influenced all
my future lives, and I never became a girl ever again." Hawk said,
"After that buildup, you have to tell it. Then we have to tell them
about the proof." I said "This time YOU show the visuals. The ships and
station, if you dare." He said "Alright." I told them about Attin
Lantos ReyMu. Then we told them about the Van and what we did about
them, with pictures from Hawk. Then Hawk said, "Everybody on 3. I, 2,
destruction, reminds me of Atlantis." I said "Could be a coincidence. I
just know what I lived." He said '"Were you Plato?" I said "I don't
remember all my lives. Could be, but I don't know. Anyway, I've got
more than enough memories, already. Are we going to go to the rodeo
this afternoon?" He said "Sure, if we all agree." We did agree. I said
"Then there's some time before lunch I can use on the wood project?" He
nodded, and we let the table and went our different ways. After a round
of very good hugging.
Hawk's father came into the barn and called out, "Hey Francesco,
out from behind the shield and said, "That darned internet! I hope you
didn't tell them." He said with a grin, "I didn't, but they know how to
use it even better than I. What did you say?" I said "In Italian, 'Yes,
you sly old fox'." He laughed and said, "You got that right!" We hugged
and went to lunch. While we were eating, Rose asked me, "When people
talk about their past lives, does it ever happen that two people say
they lived the same life?" I said, "While people giving credible
evidence of living past lives is very rare, that has happened.
According to scientific principles, we need to prove each of their
claims as much as possible. If we do, and they could be telling the
truth, then we have to think up some ways which could either cause that
duplication, or make it look like it did. If we assume it's an actual
reincarnation for the both of them, then we try to find out if they
ever had any other past lives in common. It turns out that there is
nothing in history that we know of, where that happened. That doesn't
mean we should rule it out, but it makes the idea less likely that a
spirit split into two, and each went to be born as a different person,
was the cause. Another idea is that one spirit traded places with
another after they were born, and some past memories remained in the
original brain. From my own experiences, I know that's possible.
Another idea is I can give people some of my own memories, and if they
don't know I'm doing it, they will think the memories are their own.
I've done that, but only with their knowing permission, like I gave you
more of the language. I can take some memories, too. I have some life
memories from an a Dark Adept I defeated, but I know they aren't mine.
At the school, we save memories in crystals so we can share them."
I said "There is one more idea. My research shows that most times
reincarnation doesn't usually happen immediately. Most often there is a
delay of 40 days to a year, before it takes place. While it's waiting,
the spirit stays in a special dimension, which has only a little
connection to this one. It can communicate with other spirits there,
and with other things I don't know about. Some of that communication
might result in sharing some life memories. So, there could be some
different explanations for your question, but we can't really know
which one fits the best. I should tell you one more thing. Some spirits
don't reincarnate. Sometimes that's caused by their beliefs which
prevent it, and some go on to have a different kind of existence which
is compatible with that spirit and it's beliefs. Because none of this
can really be scientifically proved, feel free to form your own
opinions about all that, or disagree completely. I like disagreements,
and the discussions which comes from them. Now, anyway. I sure didn't
when I was Nicholas! Oh, did I answer your question to your
satisfaction?" Rose said "With what you know, I don't know how you
could explain it better." Her father said, "I agree. Well done." I said
Thanks." Hawk said "Can you tell us more about that other dimension?" I
said "Yes and no. Yes I can, and no I won't. Except this. People who
tried to explore that dimension with their minds, came back only as new
incarnations, if they came back at all. Don't try it yourself. Any more
of this, and we won't make it to the rodeo in time to see anything but
dust and animal poop." Cress laughed, and the rest knew the discussion
was ended.
We went to the rodeo. I wish we hadn't. I didn't like the way they
treated the animals. I already said something about the bucking, and I
didn't like what they did to the calves, too. The roping didn't hurt
them much, but they were terrified. I felt that. Some people and
animals did get hurt, but not seriously. I didn't like that, either.
They felt what I was feeling about all that, even Cress in the front
seat with her parents, on the way home, and felt bad for me. We were
quiet in the back seat, and Hawk and Rose hugged and comforted me. I
let them all feel my sad love. We had eaten supper at the event, which
didn't taste very good, and we got back home late, so we went to bed
then. In bed, Hawk said, "Now that I've seen it through your eyes, I
see how cruel and barbaric the rodeo is. I grew up with it, and never
thought anything of it before." I said "I'm really sorry I ruined it
for you." He said, with an extra squeeze in his hug, "Don't be. I'm
glad you opened my eyes. All of us should do more of that, questioning
what we take for granted. I love you more for who you are, and for
helping me grow as a person. Alright, that's growing, too. So, what are
we going to do about it?" I showed him, which made us squirt very well.
He went to sleep. I didn't. After 20 minutes of not sleeping, I slipped
out of his arms and went to work on the wood project in the barn,
hoping that by concentrating on that, I could recover from my bad
feelings. It worked.
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Grant
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