Copyright © 2006 by William Mistele.  All rights reserve


Transcripts from the live show:




(Note: Topics include poetry about the softness of a woman’s skin, the magic of undines and the magnetic fluid, on and on without end)


[Week One]


You Are Live and On the Air


Hello out there.  This is live talk show radio coming to you from the Magic University.  Tonight we are going to do a special conference call with the first three people who call in.  Our topic is the feeling of a woman’s skin when you are cuddling her.  In your answer, complete the following sentence: “A woman’s skin is as soft as ….” 

     Well, whatever you think a woman’s skin is as soft as ….we all want to know.  This is your chance to be on our show.  And don’t think we are being frivolous or shallow.  A woman’s skin is one of the keys that unlocks the Feminine Mysteries. 


Hello.  Go ahead.  You are on the air.


Hi.  My name is Tavitma.  I am a Hopi Indian from Second Mesa.


Don’t tell me.  Hotevilla?


No, New Oraibi.  A woman’s skin is as soft as the fur of a rabbit or a kitten. 


Thank you. We have another caller.  Go ahead.


I am May Ling from Shanghai.  A woman’s skin is as soft as a woman wrapped in silk who has just stepped out of the shower.


Good, good.  Keep it coming.  We have another caller on the air.


Hello.  My name is Martin and I am from a little village in the Black Forest region, Deutschland.  A woman’s skin is as soft as moonlight falling into a still mountain pool; it is as soft as the thin spray of a wave on your cheek; as soft as


May Ling: (interrupting): as soft as the wind flowing through a tree without disturbing the leaves. 


 Tavitma:  As soft as a tear that slips down your cheek, crossing your mouth with the taste of salt, and dropping from your chin to find rest on your breasts.


May Ling: As soft as a cat’s paw touching the surface of a lake without leaving a ripple or a trace.


Martin: As soft as the laugh of a man adrift on a sea of timelessness who is rescued at last.


May Ling: As soft as the breath of a baby …actually a baby’s butt.


Martin: As soft and as real as the pulsing heartbeat you feel beneath your fingertips on her breasts.


May Ling:  As soft as the sigh in the voice of one who finally surrenders herself in love.


Tavitma: As soft as a dream that carries you away and returns you safe and rested to the light of day.


What is this?  Someone is banging on the window from the street.  OK.  OK.  Hang on.  I will let you in. 


(taking a seat next to a microphone across from the talk show host)


What is your name and where are you from?


Pablo: My name is Pablo and I am from Isla Negra off the coast of Chile.  And I want to thank you for this chance to speak for otherwise I am afraid no one would ever hear my voice again. 

      A woman’s skin is as soft and as warm as the embers of memory as they fade only to find a flame remains rekindling them again in a new beginning.


(another loud banging on the window)


What?  Someone else wants in?  Gees.  OK.  OK.  Come on in and take a seat next to Pablo.  What is your name?


Dylan: My name is Dylan and I am from the United Kingdom.  A woman’s skin is as soft as the taste of snow on your face as it glides on twilight’s wind ferrying over frosted white fields and snow glazed meadows so deep asleep all memories are erased or forgotten.


(loud banging on the window)


Is there no end to this?  What do these people think this is, the Field of Dreams?  OK.  OK.  Come on in.  Turn that wastebasket upside down and sit on it next Dylan.  What is your name?


Theodore:  My name is Theodore and I am from Saginaw in Michigan and I want you to know it has been a long journey getting here.  

     A woman’s skin is as soft as the light of dawn finding its way between the leaves of trees slipping down, down into the shadows, lifting them up in its hands now a cup, turning them into pure light.

   Wait. Wait.  Let me try it again.  My voice has been out of shape.  A woman’s skin is as soft as fingertips tracing the curve of her hips and there you find a dream you had let escape, that flew away to be free, but now it returns charmed by her beauty.


Pablo: I think what Theodore is trying to say is that a woman’s skin is as soft as the tip of a tongue, of its touch upon her skin circling her navel and dipping within now becoming a key to unlock the mystery of a human heart that has learned to be free.


Dylan: A woman’s skin is as soft as sheaves of wheat as the wind breaks in waves of golden light while the five senses drown in the sound of the words, “I love you.”


I think you “walk ins” are probably a little cold from your journeys.  How about my guests on the conference call?  Anything else?


Martin: If I may misquote another—“To touch a woman’s skin is to be freed of all sin.  To taste it is to fly with divine wings.  When its light fills you eyes, you see sights hidden from the wise. And if it ever should anoint you, its cool, soothing tenderness flowing through you, then all that you have ever lost is again found and impossible hopes and dreams will soon come around.”


OK. OK.  That is very nice Martin but we are straying a little from the topic.  Come on, folks.  Put your mind into the experience of your hands on a woman’s body, sense the caress and touch of her skin with your fingers and palm.  Focus, focus, focus.  And let’s keep it short, concise, and to the point.  This is all about perception.


Tavitma: What about you?  You haven’t contributed anything. 


OK.  Let me give it a try—a woman’s skin is as soft as a song that sinks into your heart with notes that steal pleasure from every nerve fiber in your body.


(loud banging on the window) (more loud banging on the window)


What is this?  The Dead Poet’s Society?  OK.  OK.  Come on in.  (Theodore gets up and lets the woman take his seat.)


Who are you?


Sappho: My name is Sappho and I am from the island of Lesbos.  I am here because I heard from my grave words spoken of “golden light” and to this I wish to add my own insight.


And so ….what do you want to say?


Sappho:  A woman’s skin is as soft as ….


            (her voice suddenly rapturous speaks most melodious)


“A thief in golden sandals, Dawn fell on me, taking me in the way I always wanted; awakening, sweat bedews me like a shower, tingles all my flesh with subtle fire.”


Dylan: (moaning, breathless, and then glancing from Sappho to Pablo) “Sexy, isn’t she?” “Eat your heart out boys,” interjects Theodore.


(loud banging on the window—its Yeats, T.S. Elliot, and Robert Bly.  Bly has his nose pressed against the glass and there are tears in his eyes but now the glass fogs up from the frost in his breath.)


Thoedore:  (to the three poets outside) Get lost!  We aren’t going to let you in and that’s final! 


(the three poets walk off into the dark, snowy night dejected)


Pablo: (to Sappho) More, more.


Sappho: (gazing into Pablo’s eyes with a dark stare in which light begins to shine.  And then she leans in close to him and whispers into his ear.) 


“What did she say?” asks Dylan. 


“Yeah, we all want to know,” insists Theodore.


Pablo: (a thoughtful look on his face, a frown, and then a laugh) She said to me,


“I want to feel your will inside me.  I want your desire to arouse me.  I want to burn with your yearning until nothing is left except the scent of your love carried by the wings of my heart.”


Dylan: (turning to Theodore) Well, Theodore, we will give you one last chance to redeem yourself.


Pablo: Yeah, yeah.  (to Theodore) A poet without a rhyme in his head might as well be dead.


Theodore: (to Sappho) Your hips and thighs’ circling, molded as a sea of sand dunes sculptured by the wind, an intimate caress my palm will never find flowing upon your skin.


Sappho: (to Theodore) Your touch shakes me as you pierce me deep within, my nerves scream like rivers running from the tallest mountains now evaporating and lost amid the desert’s red dunes.


Dylan: (to Sappho) There is a candle, a wick naked and exposed.  It burns furiously inhaling the air, exhaling flames of desire, melting darkness submits to worship upon this altar of your body, your hips a wine I shall never find.  Though I am master of my craft, this flame is red, this flame is white and its burns with a delight I shall never taste again.


Sappho: (to Dylan with her eyes closed, her chin slightly raised, her body actually quivering): Taste me!  I am the rain falling upon trees, leaves slipping through mountain meadows, ravines to fall into streams suddenly throbbing for release; saturated, overflowing with burning need hurling through my body a flashflood I explode over falls; pools deep and serene can not contain me; your body an electrical storm within my dreams lights this darkness where I wander, my hunger now whirls and turns, the touch of your lips devours me.


OK.  OK.  I know, I know, you are nothing but dead poets and you don’t seem to have ever heard of the word “plagiarism.” But this is all in good fun.  And, to be honest, it is good to see you all again.


(A voice from no where speaks in the room)


Steve: Hello?  Hello?  Can you hear me now? 


Who the fuck are you? 


Steve:  Oh, good.  My name is Steve Palmer not to be confused with Arnold Palmer or Steve Ballmer.  I am a total nerd, a computer geek, and as a CEO I am on the list of the top fifty most rich in this country.


How did you get in here? And where are you?


Steve: I am also a hacker and there are few on earth who are my match.  Even the Magic University has no defense against me.  I am inside your wireless system and am using your computer speakers.


So what do you want?  A private session with Sappho?


No, nothing like that.  I want the expertise of the group you have gathered together.  I think they might be able to help me because I am at my last tether.


Just spell it out.  Keep it simple and for goodness sake, stop trying to rhyme.


I was cuddling a woman exactly as you said at the beginning of your radio call in.  And I now have this pain in my chest region and it simply won’t go away even with pain killers.  And, trust me on this, poetry and cute metaphoric descriptions are worthless when it comes to the relief I am seeking.


So you are saying a woman’s skin is so soft it causes you pain?  Is this your contribution? 


(a door opens in the back of the broadcasting room and in steps a man very dark and gloomy.)


Who the hell are you?  Another computer geek who wants to bear all? 


Cerebrum of Dr. Eugene Gendlin (abbreviated: CDEG) No.  I am the cerebrum of Dr. Eugene Gendlin projected as a holographic psychic entity.


Well, that is a new one on me.  Does Dr. Gendlin know you are here?


CDEG: No. I operate both inside and outside of his consciousness but I am sure he would not object to my being here.


 And what do you want CDEG?


CDEG: Well, obviously I am here to facilitate our geek’s, I mean Steve’s blocked energy. 


Why do you think you can help?


CDEG: You are carrying on dialogues, right?


Yes.  We are having conversations.


CDEG: Well, in Plato’s Dialogues, the body was opposed to the mind thus giving rise to the disasters of Western philosophy and theology.  But I shall now demonstrate beyond all doubt that the body and mind are of one design and can not be separated when it comes to matters of the heart.


Interesting.  Proceed.


CDEG: (to Steve) Now Steve.  Describe as best you can the actual sensations of pain in your body.  Be specific.  I want a visual, graphic, and kinesthetic output.


Steve: OK.  After cuddling her, about a day later, I felt this pain that won’t go away. It’s about three eights of an inch beneath the surface of my skin and it extends from my belly to just below my chin.  It is like one layer of flesh has been pulled to a small extent away from another.  It is more than discomfort.  It is like my body no longer fits together.


CDEG:  Very good Steve.  You’re doing well with your description.  Now focus on the actual physical sensations again. Stay with this for a moment.  Now compare what you are feeling now with the words you just described to me.


Steve: Yeah, I can go back and forth between the description and the sensations and I can’t make it more accurate than that.  But it is still there in full force.  Please make the pain go away!


CDEG: OK.  Ask yourself this question and then stop all thought and let your body give you an answer.  Listen in stillness for the reply from within.  The question is this: What is underneath and behind this pain?  What is its opposite?


Steve: OK.  I am focusing now, asking, and listening. 


(silence for thirty seconds)


Steve:  What appears in my body is the sensation of the woman as she cuddles me.  It is her absence that is causing the pain.  (pleading)  I felt so much more alive being with her.  So what is my problem? Am I experiencing a withdrawal symptom?


CDEG:  You are doing very well.  This shows excellent progress.  Remain calm.  Focusing often passes through several transitions.  Now ask yourself again while maintaining this sensation of her body pressed against yours—What is underneath or behind this? 


Steve: (another thirty seconds) Wow.  There is this very intense energy now in my body accompanied by visual representation. 


CDEG: That’s OK. Take your time.  Describe both the visual configuration and the energy sensation.


Steve:  It is like I am inside of or have become an alchemical mandala: here are the sun and the moon, the stars above, the earth below, all images of nature around me arrayed.  The mandala is of substance like platinum and the designs are drawn with ink made from various metals—silver, gold, iron, tin, lead, copper, brass, quicksilver, and charcoal.

   When I say the energy is intense it is like something penetrating every cell in my body down to molecular and atomic levels. 


CDEG: Can you be more specific about this intensity?


Steve: The intensity is a feeling of each part dissolving and then fusing again in a process that strives for perfection, if you will, it is after total and absolute rejuvenation.  The pain is gone but I am not sure if this is any improvement—this intensity is also very uncomfortable. 


CDEG: You are doing just fine, Steve.  Just a little bit more and it should release.  We just need to go slightly beyond focusing and psychology. 

    Where we are now, to use magic terminology, is that you are too electrical—there is too much masculinity.  You have to bring the woman into this process. 

    So recall again the two of you cuddling.  Now imagine you are making love with her but you have to actually connect to her psychically.  You see, if the two of you had sex the tension would be gone but the resolution would only be temporary.  You are after something more permanent and soulful, more internal that is perhaps a deeper connection than even sex.


Steve: OK.  She and I are making love.  I can feel her right here with me.  I can feel her respond.


CDEG: Go ahead: ask what is underneath and behind this?


Steve: OK.  Got it!  Is it this obvious?  It is two bodies acting as one, ten senses instead of five, two separate minds now synchronized.  And I see what you mean about the magnetic fluid—this ….how did you guys put it—it anoints you, its cool, soothing tenderness flowing through you—the feminine magnetic surrounds and contains the electric masculine. 


CDEG: Good.  Now Steve, the words “cool” and “soothing” refer to actual sensations but the word “tenderness” is more abstract.  Get inside that word for me, would you?


Steve:  Yeah.  (focusing) I got it.  Her feminine essence, her magnetic fluid is now inside my brain cooling it down.  It is relaxing so I can let go and flow ….What is happening? Where am I?  Our two brains’ neurological activity is now joined.  It is no longer that alchemical mandala—it is the actual universe around me and within me. 


CDEG: Well done.  Now you know how to deal with the pain of separation and also attain an inner union that transcends even space and time.


(“Bullshit” screams a man with astonishing command who bursts though the door in the back.)


I have got to lock those doors before our next show.  You know, you look a lot like Robert McKee. But you are not, are you?


Dr. Profundus: (speaking slowly with the undertones of a lion snarling) I am Dr. Profundus and I am witness to group psychosis, well actually, I would have to call it telepathic contamination.  Dr. Eugene Gendlin knows virtually nothing about alchemy or the electric and magnetic fluids.  And Steve, a complete geek and nerd, is far to out of touch with his body to engage in this kind of focusing.  


Your point?


Dr. Profundus: My point is that all of your brains are interconnected on a telepathic level in a way that invalidates your conclusions.  There is no such internal alchemy, spiritual unity, or soul to soul communication. This whole radio program is a sham and a fabrication.  I should know.  It is I who contributed to brain research in the last century.  Why parts of the brain are named after me!


But what you have described demonstrates that the process is valid.  For a soul to soul and psychic union with another are precisely a telepathic connection.  It is not contamination. 

     This is what we do here at the Magic University.  We bring things to completion; we resolve conflicts; we attain equilibrium.  And as in alchemy—we find and reunite what has been lost. 

     A sexual union with another in its highest aspect requires an inner union with oneself—opposites join, external, internal—each process contributes to the other, amplifying and enriching until human becomes divine.


Dr. Profundus: Well, I never. 


Security!  (two security guards enter) Take him and drop him off in the halls of Princeton, Harvard, or Stanford where his haunting can better inspire students of a more materialistic bent.


(the two guards escort a befuddled professor toward the door he came in but suddenly Dr. Profundus shakes off their grip on his arms, turns and speaks).


Dr. Profundus: Wait!  Wait!  I have something further to debate.  I myself was an alchemist in a former incarnation—yes, the memory is coming back to me now--because back then anyone with imagination was acquainted with alchemical lore. 

     The yin ching, the feminine magnetic fluid that Steve has managed to steal from his consort and tuck away in his brain is bound to deteriorate.  It is inherently unstable and not at all the equivalent of the Red Lion or the true internal elixir—the quintessence of nature perfected.  


Mumble, mumble, toil and trouble.  What you are saying is junk unless you are willing to back it up with a lab experiment. 


Dr. Profundus: I am.  I am.  You remember Socrates?  He was an idiot and a fool.  “Know yourself!” Bullshit.  For Socrates, nature had no part to play in illuminating the human heart.  You can not know yourself without understanding the way you are a part of nature.  In this regard, Socrates was a skeptic.  But we need not be as blind as he. 

    Call one of your undines and let her facilitate someone.  Use Theodore, since he is an absolute jerk when it comes to affairs of the heart.  If it can work for Theodore, it can work for anyone.

      I am sure with an undine as our guide the magnetic fluid from us can not hide.  In this way, nature itself through the voice of a mermaid shall guide us all on the path to perfection.  But to insure that the process is free of contamination by her overpowering aura, keep her at a distance.  Use only her voice and not her presence.  Call her to appear in your magic mirror.


Very well.  (concentrating for a moment and, in a shining light cool and refreshing to the eyes, an undine appears in the magic mirror)


Undine: What a sight!  A room full of such passion and delight!  Poets who ferment metaphors until the taste intoxicates the senses!


Undine: Now then.  Theodore, you lived for decades without a woman.  Your soul is like a forest still caught in winter, where snow still camps in the center.  


Undine: (to Theodore) Drink in this wine with your ears.




Peace like a river

Peace like the sea of stars on fire

Peace like a heart that loves forever

Peace like a harp

Whose strings sing

Of our deepest dreams and longings.


Now listen carefully and follow my lead. 


You are on a beach. The crescent moon is in the sky.  The tides once high are now withdrawing following the setting moon.  And as the tide is pulled away toward the opposite side of the world, let yourself go. You too are pulled toward your opposite flowing in harmony with nature like a wind driven wave, like water sinking down with the undertow into a dark place where the sun is unable to go.


Just let go.  There is nothing to know.  Only a feeling to follow.


Now flow with me down a river that runs free.  The trees on the side pass you by but you take no note.  You just let go and float.


Spread your arms and fingers out to your sides.  Breathe deep.  Exhale.  Feel your toes. 


Now travel with me far out to sea.  The water is calm, mirror like, and still but warm.  The air is cold.  A mist rises upon the water, stirring, like curtains, like the Northern Lights reflected in the form of moisture, dancing, wild, playful, free, to mingle and merge and now to rise in the air into the sky without thought or design.


You follow with your mind tasting this liquid dewy trail, ascending the moisture gathers together as clouds in the air.


Your body is now the cloud riding upon the wind, circling within itself, shape shifting, shape changing without end free to dream any dream.


And now you travel to an island whose cliffs are thousands of feet high, your cloud rises toward their height, caressing them, penetrating the trees with your sweet songs and melodies.


Their leaves catch your drops and you are now rain falling down and fog lifting up, moist, wet, tears of joy, tears of pain, they are the same in these cool luminous heights.


You find your way among the cliffs that give birth to streams. You become the water surging and flowing, into these pools, into these falls, you hear the sounds, the water splashing down, the bubbles beneath the surface moving around.


Here in this first pool you take your rest. Your time has been well spent for you are at last content.  You feel pure, clear, as open and receptive as anything that is truly feminine.  The liquid water shining here is a love that unites the earth and the sky. 

   But contentment does not imply inaction. You flow on daring to discover the path of life unfolding.


Around, over, and beneath rocks, seeping beneath the sand, you travel on.  Winding, serpentine, slow and then fast, deep and shallow, wide and narrow, it makes no difference—you are the feminine essence free to assume any identity without attachment holding you back.


Streams gather together, you become a river.  Strong, passionate, feel that power driving you on. 


Until you meet the sea, a place of limitless dreams where like one falling asleep or another one waking to a new beginning, you travel on.


And here you become the sea stretching out your limbs from the shores of one continent to another.


The waves, the tides and currents, the icy pole, the depths—this is who you are.


And here take again your rest.  For a while.  The stars above sing to you for you are their lover.  And the sun and moon rise for you—for you are their sister. 


And again on and on forever, the mist rises from the surface,  moisture ascending into the sky, the entire circle of ocean,  moisture, cloud, wind, rain, stream, falls, river, traveling to the sea, within this circle you have learned to be free of form identification, you are water and its feminine mystery. 


This watery magnetism now follow through your body ascending into your brain and circling again through every cell in your body.  Feel this magnetism as a universal principle that reflects and captures in its heart the light of the universe and renews all things, as dawn is to night so this flow of love within you grants new life. 


Thank you all for giving me a time and place where my voice can be heard and my words spoken aloud outside the boundaries of the realm where I reign.


Well, Theodore  How was that for you?


Dylan: Was it as good as sex?


Theodore (ignoring Dylan): I only wish that when I was alive such beauty might have been my guide.  I feel this magnetism flow through my spine and heart and lungs and kidneys and it sits on my tongue, it is in eyes, my breath.  I feel the undine’s magic.  And with it now I know I shall sleep and find a greater rest.


Well, Dr. Profundus.  I see you have made a contribution at last to our conversation.


Dr. Profundus (waxing poetic): The softness of a woman’s skin is like a love that flows without end, through all of nature it rides, and the universe and galaxies are within its currents and tides.  


Undine: Oh, one last thing before I go. 




Undine: Pick up the phone.  You’re listeners will want to hear the next caller’s story.  He is an old friend of yours. 


Thank you.  (the undine vanishes though a shiny, luminous blue green light remains in the Magic Mirror).


(picking up the phone) 

Hello. You are live and on the air.  To whom am I speaking?


Allan: This is Bhakti Vajra. 


I don’t believe I know anyone of that name.  Where are you from? 


Alan: Grosse Pointe in Michigan. 


Alan?  Is that you Alan?


Alan: It’s me. 


I read in the newspaper how you were awarded a metal in Viet Nam for single handedly charging the enemy.  And then you disappeared into the Orient.  There is a rumor floating around that you became a Zen priest.  Is that right?


Alan: Actually after the war I had a shrimp boat that went bust.  Then I ended up in the Philippines where I met a Viet Nam Zen Master.  He initiated me into his lineage.


No foolin.  Hey, weren’t you planning to become an Eastern Orthodox priest back in High School?


Alan: I got distracted when I was drafted.


Do you have something you want to add to tonight’s program? 


Alan: Well, I will tell you.  I am cuddling a woman right this moment and I thought I would share with you my experiences with the magnetic fluid you magicians seem to be obsessed with. 


Sounds great but don’t you Zen types take a vow of celibacy?  I think I had better ask so the listeners can get that out of the way up front.


Alan: It is a fact I have been celibate for sixteen years but my vow does not preclude me from cuddling a woman. 


(with doubt in his voice)

I believe I understand.  Your contribution then?


Alan: Well, first off I just want to say that there is so much going on in the touch of her skin pressed against me that my mind can barely begin to describe it.  We are  “spooning,” her back to my front and just her butt against my hips—its like that movie about John Malchovitch—you know the one where there is a tunnel that leads into his mind? 

     Well, the touch of her hips pressed against me, it is like there is a tunnel that leads directly into the Bank of England where they keep the gold.  Not that I am interested in gold.  I am not. But it feels like the wealth is beyond compare.  Everything I could ever want is hidden here and available to me whenever I wish.  And that is just her hips. 

  The way she responds to my touch—anywhere I place my hand.  It is like a subliminal vibration, a subconscious interaction, a sensual dance in which she follows my lead but amplifies the sensation through her reaction. 


So the cuddling is working out for you even though there is no movement toward sex?


Let me be specific. The feminine essence Dr. Profundus objected to in Dr. Gendlin’s focusing with Steve—well my brain is saturated with the woman’s feminine beauty—the magnetic fluid is cool, soothing, gentle, rhythmic, receptive, yielding, and above all else—it is healing—it enfolds my entire body with tender affection and serene satisfaction. 


So you say that your brain is full of her feminine essence and that even more it changes the way you experience your body?  You think it will stay or drain away in an hour or a day?


Well, that is the very question I am now asking myself. 


And what is your answer?


I think there might be a way to find it again.  I mean, I tried to follow the undine’s meditation but that was too general. This particular female energy in my brain has its own watery imagery—it is like having my body, except for my head, immersed in a small pool in a stream flowing through a forest valley.  The bubby water flows all over me and all my cares are gone.  There is no thinking going on. 

    Actually, the only feeling of my body is the splashing laughter of the water which has taken possession of me.  So my brain quite naturally can only register neurological activity that is in harmony with the yielding receptive receiving and sweet taste of water. 


(there is a cry—cackling, cawing sound)


What’s that noise Alan in the background?


Oh, we are on a beach, you know, California, and there are about a thousand gulls flying overhead. 


You know Alan, this doesn’t sound like your every day kind of cuddling that goes on between a man and a woman.  What am I missing here?


Right, right.  I was gong to ask you about that.  I think this woman is a “changeling”—as a new born, it is my suspicion that the mermaids stole the human child and replaced her with an undine as an infant in human form.  So she possesses the body of a woman as she grew up, but her souls retains the vibration and sensitivity of the element of water to which she is forever joined from the very depths of her soul. 


I have heard of changelings, but never of an undine-human trade.  This kind of exchange is something altogether different from what our folk tales have prepared us for.   Have you any idea why this might have occurred?


Well, it could be that the boundaries separating our different realms and evolutions are dissolving.  Perhaps now the human race is ready to embrace such fable like beauty that the sea contains.  Within nature are beings with intelligence who want to play a part in human history just as you magicians must in your training enter their realms to master their mystery and magic. 


Alan, that is a very generous way of putting it. You know you always were lucky with women.  I couldn’t help but being jealous of you back in high school.  So it doesn’t surprise me you’ve found such a treasure.  So what first tipped you off that she was an undine?


It was her hands.  When I first touched them I said to my self, “This is not a human being.”


So what were her hands like?


It was like holding a woman’s hands when her hands have been in cold water for a half hour. 


How interesting. So tell me, what is it like being loved by an undine? I mean I always wondered about that.  Can you share with me a little of your first hand experience?


She doesn’t seem to understand human society.  She doesn’t understand the rules we live by.  Personal boundaries—she always gets confused by that.  And she is sometimes afraid when she does not need to be but she still shines like a comet.


Yeah, but I am asking how she has changed you. I would assume she is very magnetic, kind of like a woman whose blood stream is pure estrogen.


Let me put it this way: when she holds me in her heart the way lovers do—it is not just cool energy in my brain throwing me into a state of total relaxation. There is a constellation of feelings like floating free in an indigo sea of weightless water with waves of blue green undulating in and around me.

     I can feel precisely the feeling of a seed the instant it penetrates  a woman’s ovum and equally when the fertilized egg begins dividing—in DNA, the wings of the winds, tongues of fire, and the diamond light of Dawn all ignite within one song. 

      There is being nourished in a womb, suspended, sheltered, and protected. There is the satiating taste of a woman’s breasts as an infant; there is the beauty of a universe of wonder and love around me arrayed as I come of age. There is that look in the eyes of a woman who would die for me because she loves me more than life. There is the feeling of rapture in knowing that over the course of my life I have fulfilled my greatest quest which her inspiration granted me in a vision. 

     There is the feeling of when I die—as I pass over—that her love is my guide to the other side. That our love for each other was exactly what a guardian angel would have wished to have accomplished through us.  It is a love that has no end, that discovers and rediscovers itself in new ways again and again. 

    All of these things, from seed to perfected dream with all the transitions thrown in and healed and reaching completion—this is what it is like to be loved by an undine.


I guess that is a whole lot more than feminine energy filling up a man’s brain with relaxing endorphins as you said.  I imagine if we could join part of the heart of the Dalai Lama with Christ’s we would have the kind if love you seem be holding this moment in your arms—a revelation of love and compassion with the beauty of nature entwined.  It is a kind of divine chemistry in a union that is heart to heart.  As they say: nature, human, and divine all around us lie if we can just find the key to unlock the mystery.


Dylan: Ask him again about sex.


Sappho: Yes, how can anyone taste the kind of union and inner connection he is describing without the sweat, heat, and tension that, in reaching a height like a wave, finally breaks in release?


Alan, they want to know more about sex.  Are you going to have sex at some point with this woman or not?  I know you used that word celibacy but reality is sometimes known for its spontaneity.  The question is, Would you if you could?


Alan: OK.  Here is the deal.  I am finding that in each moment right now I feel like I just had sex with her in the previous moment—my body feels that satisfied.  I feel that I just took her, ravished her, possessed her, had her in every way I could possible want her or imagine—but without any hint or trace of the actual craving or control that initiates foreplay. 

     You understand?  There is no aggression or need for possession.  This magnetic, feminine, skin to skin embrace is utterly satisfying to the point of being ecstatic—the sex between us is something that takes place inside of us and it doesn’t seem to have an end in sight.  This is my report and I will testify to this under oath in court.


Listen Alan, we are going to be following your relationship with great interest.  Hope to hear from you soon. 


This is the Magic Universities’ live talk show radio signing off and to all I wish a good night.




Later that Night


But later that night during the usual “after talk show party” up in the Hollywood Hills, a young woman and a magician are sitting down on a bench in a garden next to a fountain over looking the city lights below.  Fifty feet away in the house, faint sounds occasionally drift through the air from a CD playing, “She was looking so right with her ….”


Young Woman: I read the words you quoted from an undine: There is a peace in the soul as deep as the ocean, as flowing as water, as still and clear as a mirror, and as vast as the starry night.”  I wish to find this peace within myself.  Will you help me do this now?


(the magician thinking silently, “How could I live with myself if I refused such a request?”) 


Magician: As you wish, I will do my best.


(taking her hands into his)


Magician: Understand, young woman, I am only revealing to you the ecstatic delight that exists within the sensation of touch--the magnetic embrace that water reveals.  

    Follow my lead.  I will show you that right now, within your soul, the stars and the Milky Way are already clearly reflected.  You shall know in your soul complete freedom.


(taking a silver cup—after all, this magician is not a complete idiot; every magician who walks out into a garden with a young woman has backup—in this case, he had previously planted a silver cup beneath the bench for just such an occasion)


Magician:  (filling the cup with water from the fountain) Take this cup into your hands.  Now be still.  Relax.  Feel the touch of the silver on your skin and the moonlight—feel it also, its soft caress on your arms and shoulders. 

    Now feel my hands around your own as we hold the cup together.  Take a deep breath.  Exhale.  Now feel you are this cup and this water.  Nothing else is in your mind.  You are free of all distractions.  Take your time.  Feel this cool water inside yourself. 

     The water—this water is now you.  And this water vibrates with all the water upon this, the third planet from our sun.  This water is calm, serene, still, relaxed, and at peace.  The very depths of the sea are within you in this moment. 

     The flowing streams, the rivers, the icy poles, the waves of all the seas, they are all flowing through and within and are a part of you.  The circle of the earth, the vast expanse of ocean from horizon to and over horizon around the globe: you are this vast body of water and this water is within your soul.

   Gaze at the stars reflected in the water.  Sense that the reflective power of water is now your own. The star light is sinking into your depths.  The pure essence of all the stars shines down upon you.  Their light and their songs are within you

    Open your heart.  Feel the moonlight flowing down upon you, anointing you.  Feel the moonlight flowing down upon the whole earth.  Open yourself.  This light is flowing through you—soft, shining, luminous, cool, soothing, full of dreams and visions. It guides us in our sleep and it joins us to all that we can ever want.

    Gaze again upon this cup.  Water is so open and reflective, so deep and at peace, it contains all the feelings of every heart within itself.  It holds the mystery of our opposite.  The universe moves around the mysteries of the heart.  Past, present, future—they are all contained and revealed in this moment of pure stillness.  Feel that this water is the purity of your love and that your love embraces the whole world. 

   In this cup are my love and your love also.  In this cup, the separations of space and time are overcome.  Here is the feeling of what it is like to finally come home.  Here you have the wealth of soul to embrace all of life with tenderness. 

     Within this cup and this water is a love that flows without beginning or end.  The universe has been created with its stars and galaxies to give us a taste of the delight that is hidden within all of life.  Within the depths of water, its liquid embrace, are the fulfillment of every desire—the oneness of life, the stars and the sky above us, the depths of the seas that gave birth to life, the stillness in this moment is within your own heart—

     Take this cup now and drink from it, drink into yourself the love that embraces the universe and that makes us all one with each other without separation ….taste the water in your mouth; go with it as it sinks down; stay with it as it is absorbed into every cell in your body. The waters of life flow through your body.  The beauty of the universe is within and a part of your soul. 


(taking the cup and setting it down; taking her hands into his)


And now do you have what you asked me for?  A peace as deep as the ocean, as flowing as water, as still and clear as a mirror, and as vast as the starry night? 


(she stares into his eyes for several minutes without speaking)


Young Woman: Can you sit with me for a while?  I want to be able to share this beauty with another person without speaking.


Magician: Of course.


(they sit for an hour together even after the moon sets)




A Few Days Later





(brrinnng, brrinnng—sound of phone ringing at the Magic University switchboard)


Volunteer Phone Operator: Hello.


Alan: Hi, is the mage free to speak on the phone?


Volunteer Phone Operator: Who is calling?


Alan:  Its Alan. I was on the last live talk radio show.


Volunteer Phone Operator: Oh. You want the talk show mage.  Just a moment. I will page him.


(a few minutes later)


Mage: Hi Alan.  What’s up?


Alan: I had a question about the energy exchange occurring between myself and this young woman I spoke about on the show.


Mage: New things happening?


Alan: Yes.  I am running into some pain.


Mage:  You know, Alan. The Department of Spiritual Anthropology here at the Magic University is always interested in unusual psychic experiences.  I will tell you what.  A friend of mine in Spiritual Anthropology, Elaina, is visiting from Scotland.  She is an artist but she is also an excellent trance medium and a magician.  I think she can take you places that those academic types such as Dr. Gendlin can not do.


(call being transferred)

Elaina: Hello Alan.  Tell me what’s going on.


Alan: Hi Elaina.  A few days ago I was explaining to the talk radio show about my experience with a woman who I thought was an undine in human form. 


Elaina; Do you still think she is an undine?


Alan: No, I don’t.  I think one of her spirit guides might be an undine.  It steps in during moments of crisis or opportunity and helps her out. 


Elaina:  She’s  not a silke, huh?  Changes from a woman into a seal when she enters water?


Alan: Your joking, right? No, I have seen her in the shower and there is no seal anywhere to be seen—no flippers, no scales between her fingers, nothing.


Elaina: OK Alan.  But you know, there are other ways undines can enter human woman.  Has she had any kind of serious physical trauma recently?


Alan: Why yes.  She was mugged the other day and may have briefly lost consciousness during the struggle. 


Elaina:  It is hypothetically possible that an undine can take over the human woman’s body and memories if in fact the woman’s soul was about to depart.  Do you think that is what might have happened?  The mage just text messaged me the information that you noticed that her hands were those of an undine.


Alan: Yeah.  I did say that.  But I have been checking regularly now and her hands seem completely human.  She just possesses a fabulous capacity to love.


Elaina: And you sense that in her hands?


Alan:  Oh yes.  It is absolutely unmistakable.  She has some sort of great gift when it comes to expressing feeling through her hands.


Elaina: But she is not an undine?


Alan: No.  Like I said, she has a powerful connection to undines and maybe to other nature spirits as well.  I will keep you posted.


Elaina: So you have a question?


Alan: Yes.  We were cuddling today as we often do.  And I had my hands on her butt.


Elaina:  Sounds like great fun. Is that all you were doing?


Alan: That was all we were doing.  Believe me.  Anyway, out of the blue I started feeling these discharges of electrical energy, kind of like little, tiny bursts of electrical sparks arcing between my hands and her skin.


Elaina: I understand.  Go on.


Alan: As this was happening, when I closed my eyes I saw a thunderstorm going on around me.  There were continuous lightning strikes flashing between the clouds and sea back and forth. 


Elaina: So?


Alan: This was very uncomfortable.  Even painful.  For a time I became the lightning in my mind.  It is a very lonely experience burning so hot and bursting, exploding—there was no love within it, no feeling of connection; just desire and hunger without a hint of union.


Elaina: And other than the imagery what were you experiencing in your body?


Alan: It was what you guys described in one of your meditations on thunderstorms: little muscle spasms occurring all though my body, like a seizure was going on but not so violent; but it was not pleasurable.  Nothing erotic about it.  Just pure violent spasms in the muscles and internal organs in microsecond bursts going on and on.


(whisper in the background: “Ask him why his Zen practice didn’t help out.”)


Elaina: So what about your work with Zen?  As I understand it, Zen ignores all subjective phenomena in the individual relating to personal feelings such as desire and wanting.  Why didn’t you just refocus your mind and short circuit the whole process?


Alan: Yeah, well, I can do that.  I can ignore all this stuff.  But you know what? I am an American and not Vietnamese or Japanese or Korean.  I was not raised in a feudal society where the repression of the individual is the norm.  In my world, the individual takes responsibility by understanding what’s going on both inside of himself and around himself.  The two often have a close connection.


Elaina: So, you want to understand why this electricity jumping between your body and hers doesn’t translate into a feeling of intimacy?  Is that it?


Alan: Yes, exactly.


Elaina: As you must know, I could never give you an answer to your question because you already know the answer on some level inside yourself.  Anything I say would not feel right because it was produced by my thoughts and not your own process of self-discovery.

    But I will try to facilitate you to whatever extent I can.


Alan: Sure. Go ahead.


Elaina: I imagine that this woman has a surcharge of electrical energy, nervous energy, all though her body due to the mugging.  That residue of stress by itself could explain why there is a noticeable amount of electricity radiating from her body.  But is she there now?


Alan:  Just a moment.  OK.  If you are asking if I can reproduce the electrical exchange of energy between my hand and her butt right now, yes, she is right here next to me and it is still just as shocking in electrical terms as it was before.


Elaina:  Actually, there are a great many kinds of phenomena that occur between partners who are close to each other.  Why one time I felt this incredible increase in my body temperature, it was really quite orgasmic, just by sitting back to back with a man I knew. 

    But that was not electrical.  It was a surge of kundalini ascending up my spine and back.  Boy was that something.  I never got a chance to explore that.  So I am really glad you are taking the time to talk with us about this.  We are always encouraging young lovers to keep notes on their psychic connections and they just don’t have the discipline or curiosity to do it. 


Alan: Yeah, I am happy to talk about this.  So go on.


Elaina: You notice the electrical burst between your hand and her skin right now?


Alan: Yes.


Elaina: I take it that the problem is that you are emitting a sharp, intense masculine voltage but you are not experiencing an equal return to you of her feminine essence.  This leaves you feeling a loss of intimacy.  Now I can sense both of your auras right now and I have to ask you something Alan.


Alan: Go ahead.


Elaina: Does this young woman have a problem conveying to people in general a feeling of friendship and warmth?  There seems to be a different kind of social interaction as well as an unusual energy configuration she possesses.


Alan: To put it simply, I feel very close to her.  But actually if I didn’t know her so well I would have to say that I never know in any moment how she is going to respond to me.  She is like the wind.  She is like water.  You can touch it and do things with it which are nurturing, satisfying, and seemingly intimate but the elements by themselves are completely impersonal and so is she.  She just does not have the faintest clue when it comes to communicating to another person that there is a personal bond or connection with them.


Elaina: Hum.  OK.  I imagine you can observe this in her demeanor?


Alan: There are countless ways she maintains eye contact.  They are never the same.  Her touch is profound but you can never track it down.  One minute she is depressed and a minute later she is exhilarated but she is not bipolar.  She is perfectly free and able to talk endlessly about what she is feeling and why and she then changes her mood when she wants to in the way she wants to.  She has the widest range of emotional reactions I have ever witnessed in a human being.


Elaina: That clarifies why you feel you are within an electrical storm sometimes when you are with her—she takes on an opposite polarity to you on a deep, subconscious level and naturally, like a cloud with one charge and the sea with another.  The tension builds until there is sufficient opposite masculine and feminine polarities and then a violent charge of energy flashes between your bodies.

   Let’s work with it like this.  I want you to put your mind inside of her body.  Do you know anything about this?


Alan: I’m all ears—go ahead and walk me through it.


Elaina: OK.  Just use your imagination and imagine you are her—her body is your body and you are within her and no longer you.  Become her and everything she is and what you know about her.  But go beyond that.  Become her so that her subconscious, her unconscious, her soul and spirit are free to be within you completely all at the same time.  Go ahead.  Get a feel for what it is like to be inside of a woman’s body.  It is no big deal.  This is just another kind of intimacy or empathy, a spiritual kind of sex so to speak, a simple exercise in transference of consciousness.  Trust me.  She will enjoy the process.


Alan: OK. I am inside of her.  What am I looking for?


Elaina: I want you to sense the electrical energy you are emitting into her body and what her response is to it.  Normally, woman when they feel intense energy respond in a way any guy can tell—either she likes your touch or she doesn’t or she is faking it.  But from what you tell me about her, there is something going on here and you just have to sink down inside of her to find out what it is. 


Alan: You already know what it is, don’t you?


Elaina: Alan, I am professional empath.  I can tell you what anyone on earth is feeling right now if I make an effort.  But that information would be absolutely worthless to you.  This is about your connection and feeling of intimacy with this woman.  It is not about my magically trained intuition.  You get the picture?


Alan: Yeah, yeah, OK.  I am sinking down into her asking myself what her response is to my little microburst of electricity jabbing her butt.


Elaina: And?


Alan: Alright.  She is mildly aroused which is not saying much because she can be mildly aroused by the way the sun shines down between the leaves of a tree or the way the wind stirs the curtains of her window.  And she likes music—she has wall to wall CDs on ten shelves.  But I know what you are going to say.  Wait. Wait.

   OK. Here it is. She is broadcasting on a very deep level of her body and psyche a sensation and an image. 


Elaina: Go on.


Alan: It is flowing water as in an underground stream.  It is an underground stream because you can never sense an underground stream even when you are standing directly above it.  It is that deep in the unconscious. 

    This watery sensation is purifying, cool, its nurturing; it feels absolutely free like it goes on for miles and miles without any constriction or inhibition.  It has waterfalls and still pools.  It is shallow and it is deep.  It is so alive you can feel animated and rejuvenated just by its touch and yet it is able to be completely solitary, silent, without any concern for the outer world.

   So I see what is going on with her.  This stream is flowing through me in this moment.  But she transmits this energy to everyone around her automatically.  Most can not sense it in any way.  If they do, they feel it only as something very strange occurring, a kind of impersonal and yet incredibly intimate exchange of energy with her and they just don’t have a clue as to why they feel as they do.

    So I take it my electrical sensations are a result of this feminine kind of stream flowing through her and into me.  It is a natural polar exchange.  My masculinity heightens and strengthens her femininity. 

   I just wasn’t aware that it ran this deep.  This is why I have always felt this uncanny connection to her on some level even when there was no social exchange.  And it is why it is so absolutely frustrating at times to know her because she is as independent and utterly distant as that stream beneath the ground that moves around and you aren’t even aware of it.


Elaina: Well, Alan, I think you just have given us a new image for meditating on water for those who are interested in developing the magnetic fluid in themselves.  The image of an underground stream was not on our official list of mediations involving watery, magnetic images.  


Alan: But you could sense this going on all along, couldn’t you?


Elaina:  Alan, we all have a great many levels to our consciousness and I am going to give you a little tip: this woman has a whole lot more going on inside of her which I am sure you are going to discover on your own very soon.  But yes, this kind of broadcasting of psychic energy on an unconscious level is actually not that unusual for famous performing artists.  Does she work with crowds in any way?


Alan: Yes. She is a lead singer in a rock band as a hobby. 


Elaina:  Well, that figures.  She probably finds it very easy to captivate the attention of a crowd.  In that situation the energy she conveys on a psychic level can turn into a flashflood of emotions exploding through the crowd as it pulsates with the beat of the music.

   But being aware of her watery energy flowing through you as you now are allows you to experience what very few men will ever find in themselves—what it is like to be joined to a woman from within. 

    Congratulations Alan.  No doubt you quality for membership in that great spiritual community of magicians on earth who are the servants of Divine Providence. 

    Their motto is, “Heart to heart, soul to soul—one unending flow: a journey through darkness and light encompassing death and life in search of this treasure for which we unite: to serve the purposes of love.”  

    Membership requires establishing an inner connection to every other member.  But this must first begin as a personal experience and with this woman you have passed the first step of initiation.


Alan: (laughing) You are telling me that my experience of feeling pain from having my hands on a woman’s bare butt leads to a spiritual community where there is a direct conscious link between every member? 


Elaina: It is not just conscious, Alan.  It is link of life force, feeling, soul, mental illumination, and spirit and there is no limit to it.  It is a community here on earth that is a reflection of Divine Providence--the sharing of light and love is infinite.  And the joy….well, I best not speak of these things further at this time.


Alan: This first initiation is what again?


Elaina: To become one with another person …. in a way that is permanent whether you are physically with her or not.


Alan: I’ll keep all that in the back of my mind.  I am having enough trouble just getting through each day with this woman in my life.  We all have to live within our own limits, right?


Elaina: Well spoken, Alan.  Hope to hear from you again.  And if you are ever over in Scotland, I am either in Edinburgh or Iona.  Look me up.


Alan: I will look forward to meeting you in real life.


Elaina: Oh, Alan?


Alan: Yes?


Elaina: Alan, before you go, tell me in your own words what it is like to touch a woman, won’t you?


Alan: (waxing poetic—[it must be the telepathic incense they burn]):


The feeling of a woman

Is like a pool flowing beneath a mountain:

No sun dawns

No moon rises

Yet the water is luminous,

Cool, soft, soothing

Amid transparent light, silence dancing:

The taste of love a secret sharing heart to heart.

Some will die without having felt this touch

Some hearts will harden, turning bitter, dry, and cold

Because the memory has grown old.

But for me, within the kingdom of this moment--

The waters of my heart

Flow cool, soft, and full of luminous dreams

Dancing silently in this night

Overflowing with love.



Elaina: Nice poem Alan.


Alan: Thank you.  I don’t where it came from.  Just popped into my mind.


Elaina: There is something odd about this ….


Alan: What’s that?


Elaina: Are you still with this young lady?


Alan: Yes, I am. 


Elaina: I want you to turn around so the two of you are cuddling facing each other.  You ever hear of the Du Mur and Ren Mur meridians? 


Alan: No.


Elaina: The energy in one runs up the back and the energy in the other runs up the front of the body.  If you unite the two they form one circle that flows up the back and down the front of the body called the Microcosmic Orbit or the Greater Heavenly Cycle.  When you cuddle the front of your body to her back the energy is forced deep inside you thus the imagery of an underground stream. 

    If you cuddle facing each other, the two of you have your meridians running in the same direction.  Try it.  See how it feels-- if it is different or the same.


(changing positions and after a minute or two)

Alan: Yeah.  I feel this waterfall running down the front of my body.  If I focus on it, I become the waterfall.  In my mind, this falls is about a hundred feet high and I am the water of a stream at the top moving along.  And I pass over and fall through space.  I am all the drops and the light flashing through them with the colors of the rainbow on display. 

    Weightless I fall.  I am the moisture in the air and the thin mist that rises up around the waterfall lifting on the wind and taking on countless shapes.  There are eddies in the air from the falling water.

   And I am the splashing water in a mountain pool—the bubbles sinking down and rising up.  And the ripples and waves spreading out upon the surface.  I am the sound of the water coming down, the reverberating, murmuring, soft, surging roar.  And I am the currents in the pool circling around and then running off downstream while I also remain the entire pool that sits serene meditating as if in a dream.  I am all these things at once passing not inside but down the front of my body.

     You know I am noticing: water is perfectly obedient to the law of gravity.  It is absolutely submissive in adapting to fit into its circumstances.  But with a little change in temperature, absorbing or releasing its heat, it expands and rises to the surface as ice.  Or it evaporates filling the air with moisture or rising higher to form a cloud.  Water is incredibly clever.  It gets to where it wants to go and all it does is flow.


Elaina: Thank you Alan.  We will have to add this description also to our image catalogue on water meditations.  Western civilization, well the whole planet in fact, has had the greatest problem because energy flows upward into peoples’ heads.  But then the energy gets stuck.  Individuals are caught up in their ideas that are void of feeling or else they go off into spiritual realizations that lose all connection to reality.  But your water fall image and its energy brings the flow from out of the head and down again so that the body and soul remain healthy, alive, and animated. 

   Alan, I have to ask you with all this watery imagery you are running into if you are ready to reconsider if this woman’s soul might in some way be joined to the kingdom of the mermaids and not just through some sort of psychic connection.


Alan: At this moment, I have absolutely no idea.  Maybe she is just bringing out my own latent ties to the water element.  I will get in touch with you if something new comes up.


Elaina: I take it you have spent some time out in nature.


Alan:  Yes.  I been to Chaco Canyon, the Grand Canyon, Monument Valley, Joshua Tree National Forest, Yosemite, Sedona,  Saguaro Cactus National Monument, Lake Titicaca, various deserts, mountains, plateaus, you know, I  have been lost in all those places.


Elaina:  You mean physically or spiritually lost?


Alan: Sometimes both.


Elaina: You want to try one more thing?


Alan: Sure.  We are ready to go.


Elaina:  Try sitting back to back with your girlfriend.  Tell me how that energy feels for you.


(changing positions again and after about two minutes)

Alan: Hum.  This is very quiet.  I feel like I floating in a lake in a cave beneath a mountain.  It is very dark and the water is very still and deep and cold. 


Elaina: OK.  Stay with that a moment.


Alan:  Ah, its shifting.  Now it feels like I am in the depths of the sea, at the bottom of an ocean trench.  It is also very dark but much deeper and the water is heavy.  This is very silent and still.  But now this is changing also.

   I see myself in outer space looking back at the earth from about a third of the way to the moon.  I seem to have a new sense perception as if I can feel gravity.  I feel the gravitational pull between the moon and the earth and also between the earth and the sun holding them in their orbits.  It is like the moon, the earth, and the sun’s movements are flowing like a river or caught in the currents of an ocean.  The gravity is just another form of magnetism, another kind of attraction.


Elaina: So what is happening now?


Alan: You know it is kind of all three at once—the lake in a gigantic cave, the ocean trench, and being in outer space.  Except now I can sense the whole solar system.  I feel all the planets’ gravitational attraction to each other.  Well, I guess you would have to say that the energy between this girl’s back and my own is at least as deep as the forces of attraction hidden within matter.  It has a cosmic dimension.


Elaina: This all sounds very unusual.  I am sure any two partners will have their own experiences with the various kinds of energy flowing within their relationship as their bodies touch.  But tell me, Alan, with the kind of sensory perception you are experiencing, do you feel you can sense what is going on beneath you in the ground?


Alan:  Hey, look at that!  It is like I can feel the San Andreas Fault down there, the rocks striving to hold on against opposing forces. Lots of fault lines.  And deeper down, the tectonic plates slipping and sliding along—the peristalsis of the earth’s internal organs. 

  I don’t know what to make of all of this.  I never ran into anything like this before.  It probably explains though why I like to be out in nature under the stars.  I don’t just see the stars.  I feel their attraction with my skin.


Elaina: This reminds me of a poem I once read. 


Alan:  Sure, go ahead.  You aren’t going to get any metaphors out of me to describe how any of this has anything whatsoever to do with the feeling of a woman.  The force of gravity just doesn’t cut it when it comes to expressing intimacy.  Gravity is way too much like the vibe of Saturn.


Elaina:  Well, try this Alan:


To My Beloved 


When the stream falls asleep and dreams of rain

When the mountain forgets its mass and weight

Its cliffs towering

It roots running deep

And walks among the stars

Listening to their songs in the night--

I sit against a redwood tree a thousand years old

The smell of the forest drowsy in my bloodstream.


I sit within a circle

My back to a stone placed five thousand years ago

I reach back with my palms

And feel its tough endurance

The lichens clinging to its rough surface

The stone rests so comfortably

Within a quiet peace

Its pulse throbs faintly

To the temperature changes of day and night

The seasons, the ages, the eons,

It still holds conversations with other times.


I dream with the stream, the mountain, the tree, the stone

Till I awake within your heart to discover--

For this purpose was I created:

To love you

And to celebrate together

The stars giving birth to light

The dark womb giving birth to the stars

I am no longer alone.


The gust of wind

Its ebb and flow

Holding its breath and letting go,

The waves of ancient seas

Memories sinking down

Into limestone

Metamorphic and igneous rock

Outcrops twisting and blending,

Driven by the winds of time--


These transformations, as are my own,

Are woven into one Song

In the silence of the night

By the beauty within your heart.


Alan: The transformations of igneous rock, the tectonic plates, the earth as it moves among the stars—the beauty of nature around passes through our hearts.  Yeah, I can feel that.  It is good to have someone to share this stuff with.  I would go bonkers if I couldn’t.  Nice to talk to a spiritual anthropologist at the Magic University-- wherever it is you guys really are, you will have to tell me someday so I can pay a visit.


Elaina: Goodnight Alan.


Alan: Goodnight Elaina.




(Another Night, Another Show)


[Week Two]


[Father Zelestial]


Hello.  Who is on the phone?


This is Father Zelestial (abbreviated FZ) and I am calling from a most secret room hidden in the bowels of the Vatican Library.


What?  You doing research for a new movie?  Some sort of cover up in Catholic history involving scandal, sex, and secret progeny?  Shouldn’t you be on the phone to Warner Brothers or Hollywood about a screenplay or a best selling novel?


FZ: No, no.  Nothing like that.  Please.  Don’t get me wrong.  But I have the ability in spite of being a Catholic priest to pick up all three of the frequencies upon which you are broadcasting from the Magic University.


Really.  I haven’t mention to our listeners yet about the depth of our transmissions.  Why, only a very few know from experience that we broadcast not just telepathically but with astral enhancement and full akashic definition and recollection. 

    So why are you calling?


FZ: What do you think of Jeremiah II, that supposedly apocryphal writing in the Vatican Library?  It is part of that ancient manuscript called, Dialogues with God.  The ancient Prophet Jeremiah complained so much and so long to God that God decided to grant him an interview.


No, really? I haven’t heard about this manuscript. 


(assistant handing information card to mage)


My assistant has your background information here.  Let’s see—you are a Carmelite priest under a vow of poverty with a slush fund nonetheless, and you are a professor of ancient history.  You read Sumerian, Hittite, Egyptian, Persian, Classical Greek, Hebrew, Aramaic, not to mention Latin, etc.  And now you are in the Vatican Archives. 

      So how does this manuscript relate to our topic?


FZ: Why I was certain from listening to your radio show that you must have your own copy of Jeremiah II.  You pursue the exact same line of questioning as God in His interrogation of Jeremiah’s motivation. 


No.  Really.  I admit nothing.  I mean, assume I know nothing.  How did you come by this manuscript again?


FZ: According to the records, a Magi doing research on fixed and moving stars at the Library of Alexandria rescued it just before fire destroyed the Library.  It was the only copy that had survived the Babylonian captivity.  The Magi later gave it to a centurion, a man of great faith in Israel, for not reporting the Magi’s comings and goings. 

     The centurion later handed it to Ovid in Rome after Ovid helped the centurion figure out how to please his wife.  The manuscript inspired Ovid to write the Metamorphosis which angered the emperor Augustus who exiled Ovid to the far Eastern edge of the empire. 

    Later on Attila the Hun picked it up in the fifth century and gave it to Pope Leo.  Pope Leo apparently wanted to destroy it except he didn’t want to risk incurring the wrath of God.  And so the manuscript has remained sealed away in these secret archives for fifteen hundred years.


Well, that is quite a story.  What is this line of questioning you referred to?


FZ: It has to do with divine and natural revelation.


Nice. Now, Father Zelestial, I have to ask you if you think it is safe for you to be talking with us about this topic?  I mean, I imagine the Catholic Church, well, even the Protestant Church even more would be terribly upset if they knew you were disclosing something that from a religious point of view is regarded as top secret?


FZ: Trust me on this. Christians are the last ones on earth who are going to worry about God’s will or the purposes God wishes to fulfill on earth.  And right now they are too busy with their scandals and court ordered judgments or else with their political rallies over original design, a doctrine they made up and promoted for the sake of furthering their political power.


Read us a little won’t you?


FZ: Yes, here, Jeremiah II, Chapter 1, verse 1, I quote and this is God speaking to Jeremiah:


Don’t complain to Me that I am absent, long gone, or that I am remiss in taking an interest in your activities.


Hast thou forgotten?  Have you fool no memory?  A thousand years for Me is but a watch in the night.  Morning has not yet come and I AM not yet done.


What mortal dare suggest that I be charged with dereliction of duty when it comes to fulfilling My Covenant or maintaining my sovereignty over history?


(God’s laughter)

Where is the prosecutor with the evidence to indict Me for the laws I create and deliver through my prophets?


 Where is the jury with the neutrality to deliberate motive and opportunity regarding human fate and destiny?


   (more laughter)

Where is the judge who understands case and precedent so he could judge Me, I who hold in the palms of My hands galaxies beyond number?


I require only one more or less righteous man one hour a day for forty-five years and I will place into his hands the exact hour of the life span of any dictator on earth.  Such is the degree to which I openly share My power with humanity.


One hour a day meditate on the wonders that are around you arrayed and every other soul on earth—its depth, its breadth, it essence, the life within it and the nature of its power—it shall be revealed to you with perfect clarity.


How can you say, suggest, or imply for a moment, for an instant, that I AM not fully present and ready, willing, and able to work side by side with you in establishing justice upon the earth?


You think that I jest?  That I AM a stand up comedian with an audience I have failed to inform that it is OK to laugh at My jokes?


I Am not done.  Half of all that I Am--My Love can be found in the touch of a woman’s skin. 


Hidden in that brain of yours is not just a wilderness of cinder cones, volcanoes exploding, lava tubes, and lava flowing, and the terrible hunger of lightning slashing the throat of a tree as it flashes into the ground to be free—I AM more than desire burning and fire’s endless yearning.


Hast thou never touched a woman’s breasts and been breathless?  Have you never flesh against flesh and with a caress tasted the very Wonder of the Love with which I created the universe? 


Have you never contemplated a woman’s image?  Beyond the power of mind, only the divine within you can grasp, clasp, and find peace at last in her enfolding arms.  How can I reveal My Mystery more plainly or display it with greater simplicity and precision? 


The entire universe, its treasures, opportunities, wonders, and beauty are interwoven and bound within these depths--In the touch of a woman’s skin is the power that gives birth to the stars and sets the planets in motion around the sun.   I suggest you try a little harder to decipher the laws of nature and the beauty of My creation.


Even to the archangels I have not revealed these things but to you I have given the keys to unlock My Mysteries.


I could have limited My revelation to the oceans, the rivers, the lakes, the seas, the rain, the teardrop, the blood in your veins.  But I did not stop with these.  In the touch of her skin is a moment without end, the very mystery unfolding of life giving birth to life and of one heart flowing into and through another. 


Do you think that when I placed such a capacity for pain within your nervous system that I did not more  than balance the equation with a joy and an ecstasy that more than justify the suffering?


As I Exist all that I AM I have revealed to you should you but search out the treasures hidden within your senses—the perception, sensation, and their transformation through imagination. 


Come. Let us deal right now with whether I Am as distant as you imagine or whether I have turned My back on creation. 


Answer for Me one single question--It is the one I have been asking you day unto day and night unto night from the beginning, Why won’t you love Me?


And that is just chapter one from the Book of Jeremiah II, Dialogues with God.


Yes, I can see how that fits in with our discussion of the softness of a woman’s skin.  If I interpret this manuscript literally, God seems to be complaining that we have failed to love Him because we have not yet learned how to love women.

    I think though that you really might want to keep this writing under wraps.  I think that a lot of religious people might get very upset if they thought for an instant that their bodies were in fact the Temple of God in and through which He wishes to be worshiped.  I am not sure very many at all are ready.  They do not realize that within the body is hidden the highest magic on earth.


FZ: What did I just hear Edward R. Murrow say in Good Night and Good Luck?  “Remember that we are not descended from fearful men, not from men who feared to write, to speak, to associate, and to defend for the moment the causes that are unpopular.”  Fear leads to repression.  You can not seek spirit and live in fear at the same time.

     And so I would just like to say in my own words and in a way similar to so many who have spoken on your Live Talk Show Radio ….


Please.  Go ahead.


FZ: The softness of a woman’s skin contains the flame that creates the fields, the leaves, the meadows, the trees, the breeze, the rivers, the seas, the earth, the moon, the sun, and all the galaxies whirling in a cosmic sea.  At its touch liquid light ignites within my heart and its waters turn this body into an ocean of love.


Thank you Father.  That was illuminating.  It seems to me you are a lot more than a Catholic priest.  In fact, you sound like a shaman or one of the Magi who worshiped not in temples made of human hands but the sky above and the earth below were for them the Temple of God.  If I didn’t know better, I would begin to suspect that you are the very one who wrote Jeremiah’s chapter in Dialogues with God.


FZ: No, no.  I lack the ability to speak with God.  After all, I am only a priest.  We don’t do those kind of things without first getting permission from a bishop.  Sorry, I couldn’t help but throw in a joke.  Take care my friend.


I have to ask you before you go—Have you ever had sex with a woman?


FZ: You know my Bishop asked me the same question. 


Your answer?


FZ: I answered him in this way—I told him that there is way for a woman to stroke a man’s arm that is better than sex.  Actually it was two women, one on each side, and they were each stroking a different arm and it went on for three hours without stopping. 


The Bishop’s response?


FZ: He thought I was crazy. 


I am sure a lot of people would agree with the Bishop, but then again, you are just speaking from experience. 

     Hope to hear from you again.  Keep us posted on what else you dig up in the Vatican archives or even if you just are in the mood to make something up, that too is fine.





You are on the air.  Whose calling? 


Jason: This is Jason.  I am a former commodore of the Bayview Yacht Club and I manage a group of mutual funds.


Finally, someone from the real world.  There are times when I hate theology.  It is so grandiose and otherworldly and no one ever speaks from first hand experience.

How is the sailboat racing?


Jason: In the Port Huron Mackinaw we were first to finish and first on corrected time.  I flew the spinnaker. 


Congratulations.  How was the weather?


Jason: It was so bad one night I heard that a crew member on one boat came out of the cabin with his suitcases in hand and said, “Call me a cab.”  He thought he had been drinking too much at some bar and now was ready to go home even though the boat was miles from shore.  We were all sea sick that night.


Well, what’s a race without some challenge?  You know, a lot of people don’t understand investing.


Jason: Oh, the rules are simple: never pay a management fee of more than one quarter of one per cent.  In order words, stick to non profit funds like Vanguard.  They bring bag lunches to work whereas Morgan Stanley and Merrill Lynch—they are eating lunch at French restaurants and you are paying the bill.  And those brokers don’t work for you—they work to make money for other companies or owners and not their clients who they treat as cows to be fattened and then slaughtered. 


A little cynical are we?


Jason: And when companies like Schwab and Morgan Stanley give you those computer printout booklets with your name on the cover designing a portfolio just for you?  Tell them there is no foreign sector—there is only one global economy.  I tell you they are years behind the times when it comes to market trends. 

   And forget about companies with “moats” like Wal-Mart which are difficult for other companies to besiege.  Think about “bottlenecks” like Inco and commodities where demand will exceed production capacity for two or three years. 


I always felt that investing was one of one of the least erotic activities on earth.  Because the operating principle is delayed gratification.


Jason: That is why I go sailing.  If I may?


Sure, go ahead.



Once I flew a spinnaker

Two thousand square feet of sail

Round, soft as silk,

Floating in the air off the bow

With lines, winches, and pole

I kept the sail on the edge of a luff

Barely fluttering, quivering,

Hypersensitive to each nuance of wind shift

The sailboat gliding over the waves

The stays taut, the mast tense

The helm guided by a firm hand,

After three hours of unbroken concentration

My body and mind joined to the wind

I said to another sailor,

I wish making love could be like this

The body and breath one,

Adrenaline and endorphins running this thick

In the bloodstream.

But he did not understand what I meant:

In a society where women are not fully aroused

The eyes of men are blind

Their hearts are closed.

Because they do not see

The inner light shining in all things,

They fail to attain their destiny.


So, united with a boat, the wind, the waves, the sails--this is like being united with a woman.  Except the adrenaline and endorphins you get from racing sailboats still remain much more than what you have attained with a woman in your arms? 

     I have heard surfers say exactly the same about surfing the big waves.

     So what about the softness of a woman’s skin?  Can you do reverse engineering and work backward from what you imagine could be to what you can do now in the present?




 A woman’s skin is as soft as the warm song of the   

 summer sun sinking into green leaves. 


I don’t know where that came from.  Just popped into my mind.  Here, let me try it again.


Muscles flexed, helm held steady with a firm hand,

The stays taut, the surge and sway,

The momentum and play of the hull moving

Among the waves, the tell tails dancing

As I guide the craft closer to the wind,

The draft of the sails as smooth as a bird’s wing,

The spray of the bow wave on my face--

To be one with what you love

Is the touch of a woman’s skin.


I feel like I am right there with the spray of water on my face.

      If might ask you a personal question.  For one who has seen “the inner light shining in all things” how on earth do you manage to deal with people who have not the least inclination to perceive these things?


Oh that.  We are all seeking a return on our investment.  We all want a reward for the effort we put forward. We are all where we are supposed to be.  Every situation offers an opportunity to learn.

     You can not see the inner light shining in all things or feel the rapture in the song of a bird singing at dawn if before you act you feel you need group consensus or validation from someone else. 

    Some things you just do because they are right for you.  And if perchance you ever find another soul to share it with then you have to consider that moment of sharing a gift from the divine.  It is about being grateful for what you have rather than the complaint you make when you are not putting forth your best effort.


Thank you.  That was very succinct.



[Rabbi Shalom]


And now for our next caller.  What is your name?


Rabbi Shalom: This is Rabbi Shalom and I am calling from Tel Aviv.  I am the head of the Institute for Research into Kabbalah and the Names of God.


Good to hear from you.


Rabbi Shalom: I don’t understand the game rules you are playing by.  They seem to be—How intimate can you be with a woman without it becoming erotic.  And the reason you are doing this is to discover an entire universe of feeling and illumination that is hidden in the attraction between men and women that is normally and instantly exhausted once sex becomes the objective. 

    What about this? You mentioned with your last caller about “delayed gratification” and I think you should now address this issue.


What is the issue again?


Rabbi Shalom: Your program just doesn’t feel right.  It doesn’t seem natural.


I stand behind my opening statement at the beginning of the program weeks ago: Just fill in the blank, A woman’s skin is as soft as _______?

  You can say whatever you want.  You want to talk about sex?  Be my guest.


Rabbi Shalom: I am not done with my ranting.  You make it sound like you have a contract with Divine Providence (your words) and that the girl is just a lab partner, a research associate, or an experimental subject. 


You know what they say?  Scorpios invented sex.  Leos invented courting and romance.  Libras invented love. 

    But we Aquarians?  We invented foreplay.  In the process we discovered alchemy.  And alchemy is the historical foundation for chemistry—the study of the attraction and bonding between atoms and molecules that gives definition—form, shape, and weight to the entire physical world. 

     We all have our areas of specialty and expertise—mine is the beauty of the universe.  So, do you have something experiential to share or not?


Rabbi Shalom: OK.  OK.  Have it your way:


The softness of a woman’s skin contains a cool, luminous light that keeps me warm on the coldest night and a warmth of love that all separation overcomes.


It seems to me you have a real feel for this topic. 


Rabbi Shalom: Well, I have to confess, I mean, don’t let the other Rabbis know about my doubts on this matter.  It just won’t due if they knew the questions that have been popping into my head.  They think deep down, even though no where does it say so in our canons, that scholarship and prolonged study are somehow a virtue. 


And you feel they are wrong?


I feel they are dead wrong.  Scholars bear a close resemblance to zombies, the living dead, or to golems—they still get work done but the life is gone.

     You see for me ….


Sexuality is a beauty unfathomable

Its wonder beyond human reach

Though you can see it walk and touch its strength

Feel it and taste it

Hear its voice speak

Its power is mysterious


Beauty, from the Unmanifest, the hidden,

From darkness wraps itself

In the first rays of the sun

Reaching out, its fingers,

Softer than the wind,

Glide upon my skin at dawn

I awaken in the arms of love

And know not what Spirit to worship—


Though the names of God are well-known

His attributes delineated with diligence

Both subtle and profound

The name of God 

That contains this wonder remains unknown


Except within my heart

More thin than the strand of a spider’s yarn,

A filament, like a lute string,

Begins to burn with a light

Without beginning or end,

When I kiss her lips

All life, every heartbeat, every breath

Sound within the silent depths of my heart,


Her chest rises and falls,

Her heartbeat calls

It captures my soul in its song


Her body is an oasis

Within a desert where I wander lost and alone

I drink from her waters of life

And am reborn

As I rest my head on her breasts.


God, I wish there were more Jews who were poets.  You people have it within you to be the best poets on earth.  When it comes to divine sensuality, we Gentiles are just a branch grafted on to the tree.  We have to make it up or, like Shakespeare, be a magpie who steals from all traditions just to gain a small sense of integration.


Rabbi Shalom: I still have a charge to level against you.  You act like you have to train for twenty years to learn how to touch a woman.  And then as you touch her you enter a trance that puts you in touch with the inner workings of the universe.  Your process seems to violate the sanctity of marriage and the purpose of morality.  What is your response to this?


Actually, cuddling a woman for two, three, four or five weeks without any erotic intent is a basic marriage counseling technique.  It recharges the batteries of affection so to speak.  And you know what the National Council on Religion has to say?  “If it helps a couple to bond better together, then it has got to be OK.”

    But I think you stated the other part exactly right.  Why, perhaps our Magic University (which in fact does steal the universal essence hidden within every tradition) could offer an advanced degree in how to touch a woman in order to evoke ecstasy. 

   You recall that the magnetic fluid is the feminine counterpart to the electric, masculine energy in the universe.  And these two together are a part of every creative act whether it be conception, the moment of inspiration in art, or the birth of the universe. 

      When these two are acting together, the magnetic and electric fluids, Fate herself comes forth to bargain and accept them as payment for changes we wish to make in reality--so great is their value and their influence.

    In alchemy, you have to take the male and female and hermetically seal them from outside influence.  You blend their essence in this process in a way that is free of contamination.  And then the love produces an elixir of life that generates youth and divine insight. 

   Jealousy, anger, and insecurity immediately shut down the process.  No transformation, no blending or sharing of inner essence, and no divine love can be obtained under those circumstances. 

     In other words, you have to be absolutely ferocious in your determination to pursue the truth and in the same moment completely detached if you want to unite the sun and the moon or, to put it simply, to be one with another so all separation is overcome. 


Rabbi Shalom: Alchemy, yes, that is a Gentile activity.  Solomon never mentioned it.  After the Flood, the span of life decreased rapidly.  But we still have a Tree of Life that grants immortality. 

   And the pursuit of truth?  It is never as easy as lust or as tender as love but it the price we pay to discover who we are.  Perhaps one day we shall find a way to join alchemy with study of the Kabbalah.


 Rabbi Shalom, it has been a real pleasure.


Rabbi Shalom: One last thing?




Rabbi Shalom: Could you do a correspondence course for the advanced degree you mentioned on touching a woman’s skin in order to produce ecstasy, and from the ecstasy, to study the inner workings of the universe?


Thank you.  I hadn’t thought of that.  It may take some time to put the curriculum together. But in the meantime I will just mention the basic procedure as far as heightening your perception.  When you touch a woman you can use her skin as a magical gate that reveals the mysteries of life, fate, and the beauty of the universe that is around us arrayed; or just search for the deepest longing that is within your heart.

     This is so basic every student who enters the Magic University has already mastered it.  You simply concentrate on any one of your five senses and hold the sensory perception, impression, or sensation within your consciousness for say five to ten minutes without any other distraction occurring. 

   In the case of touch, you place your hand on her skin and then nothing else in the entire universe exists for you but the sensation of that touch and the feeling and the energy that are interwoven into it. 

   The only difference between what Hugh Heffner, Bob Guglioni, Howard Stern, and Casanova and we are doing is that we are treating the body as the temple and image of God and the Goddess.  We are giving it the respect it deserves.  What person who claims to be a magician and who studies the Mysteries can fail to see this?  But I am sure this is all perfectly clear from your Kabbalistic studies.


Rabbi Shalom: It has been a serious problem in the history of Rabbinical Judaism since the time of Akiba and Bar Kochba in the second century.  Our Kabbalah studies have lacked lab work and field research with empirical verification falling instead into academic speculation and metaphysical jargon. 

    I sometimes feel like we just wasted two thousand years.  Suffering the indignity of living in the shadow of Christianity has dampened our desire to wrestle with angels to capture the blessing we once had before.  Though my years are advanced, before I die I will try to remedy this situation.  

    Still, it sounds like a woman might feel she is not being appreciated if you approach her in the manner you have described. 


Oh that.  Right.  I will tell you.  A lot of women really love to be cuddled and hugged especially when in the touch and the caress are love.  Go ask a few if they like to he held.  Because a man is a magician it does not mean he is an idiot or that he is unskilled in the one hundred and eight erotic arts.  If the man has his heart in it I doubt the women will be making complaints.  



Good luck to you. This is the Magic University Live Talk Show Radio broadcasting on akashic, mental, and astral frequencies with high definition and also web site transcripts available.  Signing off.  Good night and good luck.



[Week Three]


 (Music and vocalization playing in background with sound slowly fading away: “When he saw her face, he lost all control ….”)


(volume slightly above normal)

Broadcasting from the Magic University.  This is Talk Show Radio streaming live from the City of Angels, Los Angeles, California. 






Hello.  You are live and on the air.  Whose calling?


Connie: My name is Connie. 


Finally a woman.  How refreshing.  Where are you calling from Connie?


Connie: I am right here in Iowa City.  I don’t understand why more women are not calling in.  Talk shows are the second favorite format for women who listen on radio.  Anyway, I just wanted to put in a few comments. 


Sure.  Go ahead.


Connie: I don’t understand why people are so uptight about sex?  Sex for me is a natural function.  It is like eating, sleeping, having a place to stay, taking care of your self.  You have sex with someone when it feels right, when you are close to that person and want to be intimate.  I just don’t get what all the fuss is about. 


Go on.  Tell me more.


Connie: Listening to your show, however, makes me understand better this one guy I used to know.  I mean he was pretty terrible when it came to being faithful.  I won’t put up with his crap. 

     But he did one thing right.  Whenever we met he would give me this big hug.  He was great at hugs.  He would wrap his arms around me and lift me off the ground and just hug me.  I really loved that.   So all this talk you guys are doing about touching and physical contact.  I can really get into that.


Do you want to add anything else?


Connie: Yeah.  You had a caller a while back who didn’t think women would appreciate the kind of cold, clinical approach to touching that he thought you were suggesting.  And I am thinking of that other guy who called who said he liked his arms stroked.

     Anyway, I wanted to say there is this really neat thing I love.  When a guy just strokes my skin very softly and slowly with his fingernails.  I just love that.  On a scale of one to ten where ten is having sex, this kind of stroking for me is a nine and a half.  I purr like a kitten.


They sometimes call that “zoning” when the touch produces a feeling of total pleasure and the mind is gone—consciousness is absorbed into the sensations. 

   Could you take a moment Connie and give us your take on how to touch a woman?


Connie:  I would love to. 


To touch a woman’s skin, you have to understand, it is not about being a man.  It is not about taking command.  Sure, there is your burning urgency.  But the woman is not there for your emergency.  

To touch a woman’s skin you have to become like a child again.  It is about trust and love and tenderness and the wonder of moving from one moment into another. 

In touch you communicate a message that you are there for her and that you care for her and that skin against skin your life and hers flow as one unending stream, that is, at least in the moment the two of you are sharing the same dream.


 Thank you Connie.  I appreciate that. 


Connie: Got to go.  Nice talking on your show.  Bye.


So long and call again soon.  


And now a word from tonight’s sponsor of our show, Smith Merrill Morgan from Celestial Real Estate: selling you the very best home in this world and the next. 


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    Merely deposit one million dollars, two million if you are married, and we will do the rest setting up your trust. (Lesser amounts will also taken into consideration).  In the U.S., your unified credit if need be in combination with your 709 allows you to give one million per person to the trust without incurring any gift taxes.  

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Thank you Smith Merrill Morgan for that word on estate planning in this life and the next.  Our sponsor is helping us to defray the high costs of programming and studio operations.  We appreciate their support.   


(Note inserted into the transcripts: For the record, in the following section no military or intelligence information of a classified nature is presented.  Any other information is from public domain sources such as material already printed in newspapers and magazine articles or else obtained under the Freedom of Information Act. The names have been changed so as to protect the identities of the individuals who are themselves complete fiction; though fiction and life oddly enough have been known to imitate each other.)




And our next caller.  Tell us who you are?


Paul: This is Paul. 


And what brings you to us Paul?


Paul: One of your previous callers served in Viet Nam as did I.  I don’t know anything about mermaids or the names of God, but I have known the sea and sailed upon it.  And I have a story to tell if you are interested. 


That’s fine with me Paul.  I will be here all night and I love a good story about life.  And I am sure our listeners would like to know how a man with your background has managed to establish telepathic contact. 

(assistant handing information card to mage)

     Now Paul, our records here show that you were born in 1947 in February.  Why you have a perfect Mars opposition to Pluto in your natal chart.  In general, that means you are either living your life in a pit or else you have had to work extremely hard to make any progress in life.  How has that opposition worked out for you Paul?


 Paul: Anytime I want something for myself I am opposed by an institution or as in Viet Nam by an entire government.  I am constantly being drafted into working for organizations where I don’t fit in.  Any personal goal I set in life has to wind its way through a wilderness of pain before it sees the light of day.  In other words, I am a man for whom satisfactions are few and far between.

   And as far as being in a pit, I do sometimes get pulled back in.  I try my best to stay out but no matter where I am there is always a tentacle or claw reaching out for me and trying its best to trip me or tie me up and haul me back down. 


Have you learned anything in the process?  A direct opposition also means you have a direct connection to the inner thoughts and motivations of whatever is opposing you. 


Paul: Given time and experience, I have learned to think like the enemy, better than the enemy, so I have become like an owl--in the night, with stealth and insight, I float down, invisible and silent, and seize what I want.  You could call me a friend of darkness—I have learned to hide in the shadows and see in the night what others would not believe.


Give us some details.  I think we are ready now to hear the story that accompanies this life style.  Why don’t you start at the beginning.


Paul: It was 1967 and I sat down with my uncle for breakfast one morning.  He was eating scrambled eggs with a man from Japan.  He said to me, “Say hello to our guest. This is Captain Fuchida.  He led the Japanese squadrons over Pearl Harbor in 1941.  He was lead pilot and gave the order to attack.”

     “Hello,” I said.

    The two of them then proceeded to argue about who caused the Japanese to enter World War II.  This was a very interesting conversation since my uncle was “drafted” out of high school to fly for the Flying Tigers carrying supplies into China well before the U.S. entered the war.  

   My uncle hadn’t faired too well since he contracted high altitude epilepsy when his oxygen gave out and they were around twelve thousand feet.  Anyway, Fuchida argued that U.S. pilots were flying U.S. planes for the Chinese air force and bombing Japanese supply routes leading down to Burma well before Pearl Harbor.

   My uncle conceded the point.  Then my uncle asked about whether the Japanese were using codes to transmit messages about the ships in Pearl Harbor by placing ads in the Honolulu news paper.  My uncle said intelligence indicated that the Japanese were not transmitting.  Captain Fuchida replied, “Well, you were asleep then and you are still asleep now.”  

    Later on my uncle told me, “In times of war you do what you need to do to serve your country.  I did what had to be done”   

     My uncle often told me stories about our family.  One of our ancestors had come over on the May Flower.  One had signed the Declaration of Independence.  And my uncle said his uncle who he had known had fought in the Civil War and was there defending Little Round Top against the flanking maneuver of the Confederates at Gettysburg.

    Our grandfather had invented the Liberty Engine that had helped defeat the Germans in Europe and he was also active in counterespionage working with the FBI.  And mother had assisted in debriefing German scientists in the mid thirties as part of a secret government operation that was anticipating World War II.  

    So I tell you it was no surprise when a few weeks later, the day before my graduation from high school, that another man was sitting with my uncle eating scrambled eggs for breakfast.  My uncle got up and left. 

     The man introduced himself as representing the CIA and said how he was impressed that I had just won the state championship for marksmanship.  He wanted to offer me a job so I could put my talents to use in service to my country.

    What can I say?  You do what you need to do.  I was part of a family tradition going back before the War of Independence.  And so I became an “unrostered CIA agent with no paperwork and no official association with the CIA.  I trained as a sniper working with a spotter.  I was dropped behind enemy lines.  I had a given target and targets of opportunity. 

    It turned out I had a flair for the targets of opportunity.  It was like I could tell when and where someone would be.  Part of our training was learning how to become one with the jungle, with the darkness, and to blend in so even an animal could not sense we were there.  I just took the training a little further to where I learned to become one with the mind of the enemy.

   In two years, I had thirty-seven confirmed kills before my spotter was killed and things began to go bad.  Other snipers were better than me but my handler just couldn’t believe my luck.  What did I care? They paid me in gold bars.

   They promoted me planning and running black ops.  You know, I didn’t really know the pressure was getting to me.  You get so wrapped up in accomplishing the mission.

    I was in the Philippines for R&R walking on the dock late one night listening the stays on the masts clanging in the wind.  And there was this little thirty foot sailboat with an Australian furling the sail.  We began talking and drinking. 

    Before dawn had come, I had traded him a few gold bars for his sailboat, managed to pack it with supplies, had cast off, raised the sail, and slipped out of the harbor.  No more CIA.  No more war.  I was gone.           

      About a week later I hit a storm.  Soon I had forty foot waves.  When you are in a sea like that, you really appreciate the power those waves pack.  I had to become one with the wind, the waves, the storm, the rain in order to keep my boat upright. 

    I tell you, dark was the night.  Shivering, quivering, shimmering pale but luminous explosions in the clouds silent and distant but ferocious like a snake and a hawk each trying for a fatal strike.  All that wind and water and the lightning the rippling edge of fire, its flash the only thing in sight.

    The bow dipping beneath the water then the next minute  surfing, and then another wave breaking over the stern.  My whole existence became the distance between the trough and crests of two waves. 

     And beneath that incredibly exhilaration and pumping of adrenaline into the bloodstream, death waits silently, your only company. The possibility of a ship lost at sea overturned, capsized, and then gone without recollection in anyone’s memory.

    I probably had eighty knot winds.  The gusts were violent, ravenous, monstrous.  That cold, dark, black water broken only by white foam and white caps.

    I tell you that I was so exhausted I leaned on the thunder—that roar crashing was my best reminder that I was still alive.

    For two days the storm drove me downwind while I held on to the helm.  At the end of the second day, just before sunset, a hug wave broke over the boat so that the entire hull, deck, and cabin were underwater and covered with white foam.  All that was above water was my head and the mast.  For minutes it went on like that.  And then the storm broke and the winds began to die.    .    . 

     I survived by using my training.  I became one with the storm and the sea.  The memory is still alive within me.  You have to go beyond the terror and the fear to discover the ecstasy if you are going to become one with what you love.

    And when you are beyond hope and have nothing more to lose and you really look around yourself and see where you really are, then everything becomes clear.


That phrase sounds familiar.  Let me think.  It was Lao Tzu said something similar: “Those who seek the Tao often become lost.  But when lost, Ah, at last, the Tao appears in the very place and moment when you least expect it.”


Paul: You know, the Taoists believe the wind and clouds are a dragon and a tiger.  But for me, the wind and the sea are like lovers each striving to rise higher.  The passion, hunger, and desire pushing and probing until the essence of one flows through the other.  

   What is a thunderstorm in a larger perspective?  A small swath of clouds riding the trade winds, guided by the jet stream, turbulent but merely another rhythmic pulse in the atmosphere of alternating high and low pressure.  But when you are in the thick of it nothing else exists.

     And then the next day, a fair sky, a steady breeze, and calm seas.  And in time the storm’s rain becomes a gentle streaming flowing through a valley past a home you call your own and a place where you settle down and find peace. 


So what happened after the storm?


Paul: Something very odd.  Three days later the sea was completely calm, not a ripple, not even from the hull.  It was late afternoon and with no wind I went for a swim.  I lay on my back, spread my arms and feet, and relaxed.  I focused on my breath and my chest and the next thing I knew a few drops of rain hit my face.  I woke up and it was dark.

    The sky was overcast, no moon.  And I was lost.  My ship was no where around.  I could make out no form. 

   My only advantage was that I could barely see the light of one star through the clouds.  So I swam a search pattern.  Breaststroke—twenty strokes toward the star.  Twenty strokes to the right.  Twenty strokes away from the star.  Then twenty more and then to the right following a grid of squares. 

   Forty minutes later I found my boat.  I just about cracked my head swimming into it it was so dark.   Like I say, sometimes you have to make darkness your friend if you wish to survive.

     A day later I anchored off a beach on an island off New Guinea.  I went over to the beach and pretty much just lay there.  I would sit on the sand and look at the sea for hours every day.  It was a month or so later when this indigenous tribal man came out of the jungle and sat nearby.  He just stared at me.  I could care less.  I was a total wreck. 

   He laughed one day watching me sitting there doing nothing but staring at the sea.  He laughed because a mosquito flew over from a tree and landed on my nose.  And it bit me.  And then it flew back.  And another mosquito flew over and sat on my nose for a while and it too bit me. 

   Usually there were at least two or three mosquitoes on patrol.  And then a large bird flew down and looked at me for a while.  I think the man figured that was a sign.  The bird had a hooked beak and he pulled open the zipper on my backpack and pulled out a candy bar.  Pretty clever, huh?  But before the bird flew off with my candy bar, the bird pulled the zipper back up.  I wonder where he learned to do that.

    The next day the aboriginal or whatever he was volunteered to take me hunting with him in the jungle.  As a gesture, I taught him sailing and we did some fishing.  Then he showed me how to pick herbs and prepare them.  I gave him my compass and my radio. He thought they were both very funny.

    After a few months of this the two of us went back to doing what we both do best.  We would sit in front of a water fall, a boulder, a cave, a river, a tree, whatever, and we would just stare at it for hours on end without moving.    

   One night he pointed to a star and we gazed at it for hours.  It was Rigel in the constellation of Orion.  My body became like a jar and the starlight began to fill it from within with an eerie green light.  And then the star began to speak to me.  It said,


I give to you the soul of fire

Blazing within jewels emerald, amethyst, and opal

I give to you the secrets hidden in spiraling towers

Amid civilizations lost and futures unborn,

I give you the eyes which see through

The stony mists of time

And the lost hillsides of the mind.



The next time he wanted to gaze at a star I shook my head.  I had had enough of star gazing.  Voices speaking to me from out of starlight was a little outside of my area of expertise.  I know when I am in over my head.   

      Two years later I sailed back to the dock I had left.  Two men were sitting there as I tied up.  They said, “Where have you been?”  I told them I couldn’t run any more covert operations and had sailed off and been lying around on a beach.  They said, “You might have told us before you left.”


(laughter in the background)


Whose laughing?


Paul: My girlfriend. She says to say hello.


Does she want to say anything?


(mumbled sounds in background)

Paul: No.  But I would like to say something about her because I have a question.


Sure, go ahead.


Paul: She went through an experience similar to mine.  She had sailed single-handed to Europe and back on a small sailboat.  But one day in the Bahamas, she had gone swimming and was barely ten feet from shore.  But when she tried to swim back to the beach, she could not make any headway.  The currents were too strong.  She was slowly being pulled out to sea. 

     She struggled at this for about twenty minutes.  She said it was very odd but a group of turtles began swimming around her.  Finally, she dropped down to the bottom and then pushed off with her feet against the sand pointing in the direction of the shore.  She did this about five times before she was able to get out of the current and finally reach the shore. 

   She lay on the sand for hours totally exhausted and unable to move.  She says she lost consciousness.  When she awoke, she said she felt at peace with the sea instead of scared shitless the way she thought she should be.  She felt the sea had given her a new life.


Yes.  That is quite a story.  I am glad you have both made it.


Paul: So here is my question?




Paul: When I rest my head on her lap I feel like I am asleep again lying on the surface of the sea.  But now it goes deeper.

   Just a moment.  Let me put my head on her lap so I can describe this as it is happening.

     Okay.  I feel I am sinking down into the sea.  Every few ten or twenty yards the water takes on a different vibration—as I sink I pass through a series of vibrations like the keys on a piano keyboard.  The water has its own qualities, color, and pitch, almost like I can hear a different song at every depth.

    So now I am turning into a wave breaking on a beach.  I am driven, I rise up, I crest, and I surge forward curling and swirling, tossing, and spreading my fingers out as I grasp the sand in my palms. 

       And now I am the white caps of a sea of waves the spray in the air like the manes of a herd of wild horses waving in the wind as they run free.  It feels so natural to be carried by the wind as drops of water before falling back in.

     This is exactly what I feel every time I put my head in her lap.  It is very satisfying and relaxing.  But there is only one problem.      


 So what is the problem?


Paul: My head is in her lap. To feel any of these sensations of the ocean and of water I have stop thinking of my self.  There is a part of my brain that has trouble letting go.  The watery imagery and energy are incredibly enchanting but to touch it and let it flow through me I have go way outside myself. 

    It is as if I have to stop being a human being, putting aside my humanity.  I mean, this is part of my training with the CIA as a sniper—you focus one hundred per cent of yourself on what you are doing.  You put aside all distracting thoughts. 

    If you are hiding in a stream with just your nose above the water, you just freeze. You don’t move.  You don’t do anything except wait until it is the moment to act. 

    But when your body slowly disappears and you are no longer seeing through your eyes or listening with your ears, the mind becomes confused, the thoughts vague, nothing is any longer in perspective.  And then the brain has a kind of insecurity tantrum.  It has to grab hold of something concrete.  It has to think a familiar thought, anything will do.

   And when it reacts in this way the feeling of the sea vanishes.  And then I have to start the process over from the beginning if I am going to get back into it.   


I think you have described the problem very well.  Someone said the gate to the astral realm of the undines opens precisely when you have the feeling of the sea flowing through your soul.  And then you have no reference points that are familiar.  You are in a completely different realm.


Paul: So how do you go further without the brain seizing up in its desperation to reaffirm the familiar? 


For some, this is all about trust.  It takes total, complete, and absolute trust.  It is not that you are less alert or that you are any less observant. 

    It is about how you integrate yourself.  To quote another mage, “Love is the only thing in which you can let go of yourself and no longer know who you are or what you are becoming.” 

    I imagine that somehow and in someway there will be times when we need to enter that space in which we feel that underlying everything including nature is an all-embracing love.  But obviously this is something we have to discover on our own through experience.  Just believing it is like jumping off a high diving board without having first checked to see if there is any water in the pool beneath us.


Paul: Give me a moment here. 


(sixty seconds passing of silence on the air)

Paul: Yeah.  I like this.  If I let myself go into the feeling of the sea anticipating that love is underneath nature it does not matter how big, vast, or deep the ocean is that I encounter.  Because the ocean becomes a part of me.


(Paul and his girlfriend silently kissing)


Paul. Are you still there?


Paul: I’m here. 


Did you want to express your experiences in terms of the softness of a woman’s skin?


Paul: Sure.


 The softness of a woman’s skin

 Is a place where I can rest my head

 And let go of all that I have been. 

 Dissolving, my body gone,

 The sea is now my memory

         And her body the island I have found.



Thank you Paul.  I appreciate that.  Call us again when you get a chance.


Paul: There is one more question I have.


What is that?


Paul: I listened to your show in which Alan said he wondered if the woman he knew might have had the soul of an undine. 




Paul: So any other woman I have ever been with—none of them give me this feeling of being in and part of the sea when I am with them.  Let me just ask you right out.  How would I ever discover if my girlfriend is an undine or mermaid or whatever you call them?


Well Paul.  I am not qualified to determine something like that.  I think there are a few specialists among the professors here at the Magic University who might be able to give a more authoritative answer to your question if that is what you want.

   But sometimes you can just do the obvious.  Ask her.


Paul: You mean like, “Say honey, are you an undine?”


(mumbling in background)


Paul: She says has no idea about that.  But when she awoke on the beach after she nearly drown she says she has felt like a different person.


I think a lot of people miss something important about this kind of question.  If you find that your brain has a built in program to affirm the ordinary world and to prevent you from exploring the magical realms and sensations within nature, the same is true for an undine who brings her soul into the body of a human woman.

    Suppose that in one of those moments when she was nearly drowning or when she was lying unconscious on the beach that the actual woman died.  In the next moment an undine could have slipped inside of her and revived the body. 

   The problem with this is that the undine now possesses a body with a brain that is conditioned to think of itself as a human woman.  It is like being born again as a baby.  You may have had past lives but whatever you knew before is gone because your brain is unable to contain or process those memories.  

    Only later on in life when you more experienced and know yourself better can you judge if some strange feeling or déjà vu is worth taking seriously.  So even when an undine has actually entered a woman, the undine has the exact same problem you yourself have described: she has to put aside the insecurity and anxiety that go with possessing a human body if she is going to bring into her consciousness the vast perceptual range of sensations and feelings she had as an undine.


(mumbling in background)

Paul: She says to ask you how she can do that?


You can direct your question to the undine within her rather than to the human part of her.  Did you see that movie, Last Wave, by Peter Weir?  The aboriginal shaman asked the English lawyer what he was.  The shaman knew the lawyer was not really a human being but rather a magical being of some kind.  He didn’t know which so the shaman hypnotized him and made him answer.


Paul: I saw that movie.  Something about a big wave before the last wave, right?



That’s the movie.  Now just ask your girlfriend to relax.  Hold her hands and ask her to let go.  Tell her to breathe slowly.  Feel that peace she felt when she found herself on the beach.  Ask her to close her eyes and go back into that experience of feeling peace.


Paul: Okay.  Now what?


You still holding her hands?


Paul: Yes.


Form the question very clearly in your mind and ask her without speaking the words aloud, “Who are you?”



Paul: She is not speaking.


You have to listen with your mind and intuition the way you have already learned to sense the feelings her body is emanating.



Paul: I have this picture in my mind of miles and miles of ice at the North Pole.  And miles of ocean.  I am surrounded by this sea of magnetism and it is very cold and very peaceful.

   And I see this woman in front of me.  Her body is almost a light blue with a silvery glow around it.


Now ask her in the same way, “Why are you here?”



Paul: It is like there are these words appearing in my head but without any voice speaking them.  She says, “There are hundreds who want to come through.”  Apparently, they want to know us in exactly the way some of us want to know them.


Now ask her what specifically she wishes to accomplish through this body.



Paul: It is almost the same answer.  She says she wants to come into full consciousness of what it is like to be a human woman.  But she does not know how to do this.  It requires the right conditions and she does not yet know what these are.

   Wait.  Okay.  She says she needs to feel and to be loved.  Because love is something she knows a great deal about as an undine.  She says that if she is truly loved then she can come into her full power. 

    She says further that it does not matter if she is an undine or not.  It is not a philosophical question.  She says that for those who love it does not matter where they are or in what form they are in.  They go on seeking to love wherever they are and with whom ever they are with.


Does that answer your questions Paul?


Paul: It will take me some time to work through this.  But yes, that helps a lot.  Thank you.


In the old days with the old magicians and the old books of magic, an undine had to make a magical pact with a magician in order to enter the body of a human woman and become his lover.  What you said explains that—the undine needs the ongoing love of the mage in order to sustain her existence outside of her natural element.

   Apparently the times have changed.  Maybe it is that we are on the edge of another Ice Age or that the oceans may rise another sixty feet if the earth heats up one more degree in temperature.  The mammoth planetary changes are paralleled by changes occurring in the global unconscious or in the relation between the physical and the spiritual worlds.

      Well as I have told countless others virtually all of whom have completely ignored my advice—keep a diary and record of your experiences, would you? 

     Literally, I must know a hundred people whose first hand experiences with the spiritual world are absolutely fascinating and informative and which would no doubt make a best selling novel or Hollywood movie if it were put in the hands of the right writer. 

   You know, if it wasn’t for you people calling in I swear sometimes I think only the walls are listening to me as I speak. 


Paul: We will talk again, Okay?


I will be looking forward to it Paul.  I wish you the best of luck.


Before we take another caller, we have time for a Pop
Quiz Question.  And to answer our question we have a guest who I am sure you all know and who needs no introduction. 

    Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you Biblo the hobbit.  Biblo will be taking exactly one question on the Trilogy by Tolkein.   


We have a caller. 


Harmony: My name is Harmony and I am calling from Green Mountain Falls in Colorado. 


And what is your question Harmony. 


Harmony: My question is what was the ring of power Gandolf was wearing and who gave it to him. 


Biblo: Yes.  I often am asked that same question.  It is a very good question.  I have put some thought into it because it not perfectly clear due to alternate interpretations. 

     The simple answer is that Elrond as you know had one elfin ring and Galadriel had the second.  But Gandolf was given the third elfin ring, the ring of fire, when he first entered Middle Earth.  He used the ring most notably against the Balrog who had dragged him down into the fiery pit. 

   But the ring actually belonged to the elfin shipwright who built the ships that took me and the other elves to the Blessed Realms.  Due to his great wisdom and heroic generosity, still largely unrecognized, the shipwright offered the ring to Gandolf in order that Gandolf might have a secret advantage in his contest with Sauron.    


Thank you Biblo for answering the Pop Quiz Question of the night. 




We have another caller.  What is your name?


My name is Raymond and I am calling from New Zealand. 


And what do you do Raymond?


I am a Baptist minister with a small congregation.


I get this picture in my mind of green hills and little flocks of white sheep and I can smell that smell we all know all to well when we are down wind of sheep.  And there on Sunday morning the congregation likes to sing songs like “A Mighty Fortress” and “Oh for a Thousand Tongues to Sing.”

     So what brings you so far away from the little steeple of the little white church there on the hill with your gentle, warm, and kind congregation?


Raymond: You must have visited my church?


No, no. I just have this picture in my mind for some reason of what a Baptist church in New Zealand would look like.


Raymond: I have a couple of comments.  First of all I wanted to say that I appreciated the little piece you did last week on that apocryphal book, Jeremiah II.  I love Jeremiah.  Yahweh really is at times like a stand up comedian.  I mean, in all of world literature as well as scriptures from all religions, there is simply no figure that can even approach Yahweh’s dark humor. 

     Just the way he taunts Israel in Jeremiah.  He says, “Hey man, check out all the nations around you.  Who were their gods last year?  Who were their gods a hundred years ago?  Same gods year after year and century after century. 

    “But what do you people do?  I bring you out of Egypt and you switch from me to worshiping these pieces of wood and stone.  How do you expect me to feel about this?  I am married to your children and you treat me like I am a pieced of shit.”  

   And Yahweh goes on like that--satiric, ironic, and beseeching for over a thousand years.  It is incredible.  


I have never heard anyone talk about Yahweh’s sense of humor.  Although someone did say that God is too important to take seriously.  If you get too serious you end up murdering your subject before you learn anything about it.

    Sounds like Yahweh was way ahead of Socrates and Shakespeare when it comes to speaking in an ironic manner.

   Do you suppose Jesus was taking lessons from Yahweh with all his parables and stories with their dark irony in which he attempted to get people to think outside of the box? 


Raymond: “To what shall we liken the Kingdom of Heaven?” Jesus asked his disciples. I think even Jesus had the hardest time trying to figure out how to communicate that one. Then as now people are obsessed with thinking in literal terms. 

   It must have been so completely obvious to Jews and Christians back then.  For a Jew, the Kingdom of God on earth meant an Israel free of Roman occupation and the temple rebuilt.  For the Christians it meant as in the fourth century a Christian state religion. 

    And in the twentieth century in the United States it means having Evangelical Christians in control of the House, the Senate, the Supreme Court, and the presidency.  The literal mind has no end to its capacity for self-deception

    I think Jesus was trying to say that the Kingdom is an inner experience but people just refuse to tolerate a spiritual conception because of the amount of anxiety it stirs up in their brains.  They would rather invest in cathedrals, temples, churches, creeds, doctrines, and political action rather than invest in studying their own hearts.  


It is hard for me to imagine a Baptist minister talking in this way although come to think of it it would be even harder for me to imagine a Unitarian minister talking like this.  So what else did you want to say?


Raymond: I will tell you.  I have this awesome sense of the beauty of the universe and as I understand from listening to your talk radio show there are some of you who feel the same way as me.  Though I can’t say I am “madly in love with the universe” the way some of you could claim to be.


So how do you reconcile this feeling of beauty with Christianity?  I have heard druids tell me that they are refugees from Christianity even after they used to counsel people who came forward at Billy Graham Crusades. 

     One day they were proselytizing with conviction and the next day they just felt that they beauty around them in nature was too great to put up with the Evangelistic message.  So they went off to join with people who they could share their appreciation for nature.


Raymond: The answer in one word, “Telescope.”


Run that by me again and tack on a little more explanation.


Raymond: God created the universe.  And I am an amateur astronomer.


And soooo?


Raymond: I’ll tell you how it happened.  There is another Baptist minister next door in Australia.  He is an amateur astronomer.  And he has discovered more nova, exploding stars in the twentieth century than all of the professional astronomers put together. 


So I take it he spends a lot of time out in the backyard at night with his telescope rather than inside with his wife?


Raymond: There is that.  What he does is that he has memorized the images of literally thousands of galaxies.  So when he looks at them each night he notices immediately if there are any bright stars out of place.


And when you heard about him you went and bought a big old telescope to mount in your back yard.


Raymond: That is how it went down. 


So how many exploding stars in other galaxies have you been the first to discover?


Raymond: I have found and been credited with discovering four so far.


What a neat hobby.


Raymond: Only 4% of matter of physical universe is known.  The rest is unknown.  So I can appreciate Jeremiah II when God says he has placed the mystery of His being within a woman’s breasts and skin.  Some things like stars exploding in the depths of space we would never know about unless we looked. 


And you feel the same may be true about women?  We just don’t understand the power they contain yet, is that it? So do you have a poem for us?  Something joining your two subject matters of women and galaxies?  


Raymond: No. To tell you the truth, I lack the poetic skill.  But I will say this and it is the best I can do:


The softness of a woman’s skin contains a love that gives birth to every star and every star no matter how far joins with every other to illuminate the depths of this wonder.


I tell you what I am going to do Raymond.  I am going to have our poetry coach step in for a moment and give you a few tips on composing poetry.  I think you’ll find this very helpful.


(speaking into a PA system)

Francis report to the broadcasting studio.


(the back door to the studio open and Francis of Sicily walks in)


(speaking with a heavy Sicilian accent)

Francis of Sicily: How may I be of help?


One of our callers, Raymond here, has something very special he is trying to communicate and I wanted you to give him a few tips on how to get it straight.


Francis of Sicily: No problem.  Consider it done.  Now Raymond.  The whole idea here is to get the description to be descriptive—Writing 101: be concrete and do not cheat.

    Put it into ordinary language, the language of the people is music to our ears.   Express it on a personal level rather than portraying it on a cosmic scale.  You understand?  Don’t make me repeat myself. 

     I do not think most people other than astrophysicists and astronomers can appreciate the charm and magical form of the sky that surrounds us.  So take nothing for granted.

     The depths of outer space, the emptiness the stars embrace, the galaxies that turn and whirl driven by tides and currents beyond the knowledge of the human race, the rhythmic pulse that throbs in the heart of gravity, the infinite variety, spectrum, frequency, and intensity hidden within every sight of light—yes, I think the songs the stars sing in every moment of every day just might be slightly outside the auditory perceptual range of those who have not trained as magicians.  

   So Raymond, no more fooling around.  Talk to other people who have their feet on the ground.  Give it another shot and take careful aim so we don’t sit here all day playing the same old games. 




The softness of a woman’s skin leaves me breathless.  I don’t know where to begin.  If I gaze at the sea of stars, if I were to wander from one end of the universe to the other I still would find no greater wonder than this woman who I hold in my arms. 


Francis of Sicily: I tell you what Raymond.  I am not angry at you.  This is all going to work out Okay.  You don’t need to worry about the consequences if it doesn’t.  Stay focused on the task.  We are going to make this very simple so that nobody anywhere on earth could make another mistake.  It just is not going to happen. 

   Now listen carefully.  Very carefully to my words.  I am going to begin now.  Your success and my success—we are in this together.  We are not going to fail. 

     Try it again.  But not a word, not an image, I don’t want a faint hint of anything about stars or galaxies or shit like that. 

    I hope you are listening.  I have a reputation in this matter and I can’t afford bad things being said about me.  You are going to get it right Raymond. 

    No stars.  No night sky.  No galaxies.  No cosmic winds or tides.       

    And whatever you do, as long as breath remains within you, I don’t want to hear that word “wonder” again. 

    In fact, focus on the girl.  Say something nice for a change about the woman instead of ranting on about yourself.  We all get tired, so very tired of people who only talk about themselves.   

   I hope you understand Raymond.  Because I do on-site assistance and I have your address right here in front of me.  But we don’t want it to come to that. 

    Now relax--take a deep breath.  Exhale.  Feels nice, huh?  I am sure you want to enjoy many more like that. 

     Now go, speak, get it right.  




The softness of a woman’s skin—I tell you this woman is the perfect friend.  She has that one virtue most rare among all women on earth.  She searches for and seeks to satisfy the desires in the depths of your heart.  What price can you put on that?  What other experience in life is its match? 

     If there is a great divide separating who we are from what we shall one day be, then she is there to meet you and walk at your side so that love will never fail to be your guide.


Francis of Sicily: (loud clapping) Bravo!  Bravo! I am so very proud of you.   


Thank you Francis of Sicily.  Great job coaching.  I may have to call you back again sometime.  It is really inspiring to see you work. 


Francis of Sicily: Anytime.  I am always happy to help my friends and those in need of a guiding hand. 


Now Raymond, you are not really a Baptist minister are you?


Raymond: Why do you say that?


For one, you seem to know something about women. 


Raymond: Look, I always wanted to be a Baptist minister living a quiet, peaceful life free of distractions with a small congregation where we all know each other so well we are all family.  And I have got what I wanted.  But I do think it will take a least another one or two thousand years before people learn to read what the Bible actually says. 

    I notice that a lot of my minister associates are like those ancient Israelites—they worship doctrines and interpretations that are made of stone and wood rather than the Living God who created the stars and galaxies above and the women whom we love.  


If I am ever in New Zealand I would tell you I would drop in for one of your Sunday worship services but I have this problem whenever I enter the doors of a Protestant church.  Several angels of the Shem Ham Phorus, the Mosaic angels who assisted with the Exodus, sit down in the pew in back of me.

    They whisper in my ear, “Are there any miracles you want accomplished?  Perhaps a sea divided, a cloud by day or a pillar of fire by night?  Perhaps a government somewhere around the earth, a little regime change this next week?”

   It is all way too intense for me.  They are so into bearing witness to the purity of light and the demonstrations of absolute faith. 


Raymond: There is some truth to what you say.  The Protestants inherited the angels of Moses.  But in the sixth century, Jews, Christians, and Moslems all had the same word for God.  And in the sixth century over in Ireland St. Columba had the only other copy of the Gospel of John outside of Rome. 

     In those days in Ireland, a Christian priest could also be a bard in the druid tradition who had trained for seven years in a dark cave.  In those days, they still trained the five senses to look inward whereas today we rely on scientific instruments to amplify the perceptions of our senses.

      But as for Mohammed, somehow he got hold of Gabriel and the angels of the lunar sphere.  Have you ever listened not to the words but to the mood of the Islamic Call to Worship? 

     There is a hypnotic serenity that yanks you out of the outer world and into a world of inner peace.  No wonder they like to blow themselves up.  That peace is so addictive that they can’t deal with withdrawal symptoms that come when they have to face reality.


I just can’t believe a Baptist minister can talk like this. 


Raymond: Look, I just read the Bible, that is what we Baptists are good at, and if there is anything I have learned from  reading the Bible is that the outer world and the inner worlds are not separate but one.  Time and space may change but the deep, inner issues of the heart remain forever the same.  


So Raymond, there is one little thing I would like you to expand on.  You seem to say that when you touch a woman’s breasts you sense a cosmic, all-embracing love that is so deep and rich it contains the very stars and the depths of space within itself.  Have I got that right?


Raymond: Francis is gone, right?


Yes.  It is safe to speak about stars and galaxies now. 


Raymond:  It is exactly like God said in Jeremiah II: A woman’s skin possesses perhaps just as a reflection, some kind of analogy, perhaps the same substance, or a direct link to the magnetic love that stands behind and manifests through all of creation. 

     The Apostle Paul spoke of it, “In whom we live, move, and have our being.”  Paul just didn’t realize that he was describing something feminine and not masculine.  The Jews speak about the Shekinah as the feminine presence of God.  But for me, when I touch my wife’s breasts, I sense a nurturing force that supports the stars, the emptiness of space, the universe, time, matter, and all of life.

   But whatever it is it not only takes my breath away.  It is wondrous, magnificent, and there is no end to its depths, its vastness, and to the healing power that is within it. 

   When I gaze at a galaxy five hundred million light years away, the distance in space and time no longer matters.  This feminine energy I sense everywhere makes the entire universe feel like home, like family.  


I think someone once tried to say that in a song, “Oh Mystery, you are alive.  I feel you all around.  You are the fire in my heart, you are the holy sound, you are all of life, it is to you that I sing, grant that I may feel you always in everything.”


Raymond: I hadn’t heard that one.  There is another one though, “If the people lived their lives as if it were a song for singing out of light, provides the music for the stars to go dancing circles in the night.”


That sounds Russian.  It is very beautiful.


Raymond: Well, that is the news from a Baptist minister reporting to you from down under in New Zealand. 

   Oh, by the way, if you are down here you don’t have to come to the worship service.  After Sunday morning Tai Chi Chuan, we have an hour silence meditation before the church service.  You know, as in “Be still and know that I am God.”  You can drop in then.


A Baptist church that actually has a spiritual activity? It is unheard of.  If I keep running into more Protestants like you I will have to send a note to the Editorial Board of the Encyclopedia of Spiritual Anthropology to rewrite part of their description. 

    Right now I think they describe Protestant Christianity as being very active with its religious programs but totally void of any spiritual practice due to their obsessive compulsive attachment to literal interpretations and extroverted activities.  Life is full of surprises, huh?    

     Raymond, it has been really great talking.  Hope to hear from you again.


This is Talk Show Radio broadcasting live on akashic, mental, and astral frequencies in high definition and with website transcription from the Magic University signing off and


                                        good night and good luck.