As I begin to write this out, the date is Thursday, April 3, 2014. The date of the following out of body experience is 1994. As in all of my out of body experiences, they live alongside the everyday experiences of my life. Back then I was sharing my dreams with whomever might be interested. As far as my out of body experiences, they were rarely shared but for my wife and kids. When I would add them to my journal, the descriptions were brief because I already had the details and events in my memory.
Now I am sharing with the world so the time has come to write it all out. Like any memory I have, the events, here are still fresh in my mind. Although the discussions in the following OBE are not word-for-word, they are very close. The decision to put this OBE out, there is due in part to a few others I want to post but would not make any sense without this one going out first.
My alarm went off awakening me from my night’s sleep. I reached around the head of the bed and shut it off. I am usually awake a couple of hours before sunrise but this morning the sun was already beaming through the curtained window. Even stranger, I would never set my alarm for after sunrise. I opened my eyes and took a look around the room. I was taken back because it was not my room.
I was in a twin bed that sat in a small room perhaps 12 x 14. A single window let in the morning sun on the opposite wall. On the wall to the left of the head of the bed was a door. The wall running at a right angle from the door had an open closet full of mens’ clothes. A dresser stood just to the right of the closet door. I threw back the sheets and sat up. I briefly wondered how I had gotten here but more importantly, where was I?
I looked down and saw I had on a pair of boxers. I knew right then I was having an out of body experience because I don’t wear boxers. I walked over to the closet and pulled out a pair of jeans, a shirt and some socks out of the dresser. I found a pair of shoes next to the bed. After I dressed I left the bedroom. The door opened into a short hallway. To the left was another bedroom at the end and two doors along the same wall as mine. To the right, the hall opened to a larger room with wide windows.
I stopped at the end of the hall to the right. It opened into a small well furnished and decorated living room. To the right of the living room was a table for four. At the table sat my then ten-year-old son Jonathan. Although I was well in his sight, he did not turn to look at me but stared straight ahead. I walked over to the table which brought into view a small kitchen. My birth mother was cleaning up some dishes that were in the sink. I turned back to my son who I now stood in front of, but he took no notice of me.
“Would you like some breakfast?” my mother asked looking over at me.
“No thank you,” I responded, and she went back to cleaning.
(While in an OBE I always try to act natural, it gives me less time explaining myself and more for exploring.)
I looked back at my son. His eyes were a bright copper color and unblinking. I bent down to look into his face, still he took no notice of me. I caught a movement in his pupils and leaned over closer to him until I was within a foot of his eyes. The lenses of his eyes looked to be made of glass and behind them were tiny moving parts like the inside of a watch.
“I just fed him,” my mother said, causing me to jerk back upright. Her voice startled me.
I looked at her, then back to my son.
“What’s wrong with his eyes?” I asked
“Nothing, everything is working fine.” she said.
“Working? They’re not real?” I thought about his emotionless face and still form. “Is he an android?” I asked looking from her to him.
“What?” My mother looked at me as if I were crazy then she responded, “You’re not Philip.”
I stood there looking at her, not quite sure how to respond. As I stood motionless she added, “You’re one of those counterparts.”
“You’re aware of who I am?” I asked her.
“I am aware of who you’re not. You need to get to the college,” she said.
“What college?” I asked.
“The one down there,” she pointed out the rear of what I believed was an apartment. To the left of the kitchen were a set of sliding glassing doors. I looked back at her.
“Why do I need to go there? And what kind of college is it?”” I asked.
“I’m not sure why. I don’t understand most of it. However, Philip always said, if this happened, convince his counterpart to get over to the center building of the college. That’s the main building for the College of Art.” she finished.
I looked out the sliding glass door she pointed to. Outside ran a sidewalk between what looked from here to be apartment buildings or condos. She walked over to the door and slid one side open.
“Why a college of art?” I asked.
She had a nervous but stern look on her face as if I were someone who had just broken into her home, I then realized I kind of had. I was a stranger not only in her home but her son’s body. I decided to take her advice.
“You need to go,” she said.
I began to move a couple of steps toward the door and stopped. I looked back at Jonathan.
“What’s going on with my son and his eyes?” I asked.
“He’s not your son, he’s Philip’s. He was in an accident which caused brain injuries. It’s in the healing center.”
“His brain has been removed?” I asked in shock.
“Well it’s kind of hard to care for an organ when it’s inside the body. You need to leave or I will have to call campus security.”
She held the door in her right hand while showing me the exit with her left. I looked between her and my son and thought it best to take her advice so, I walked out and took a left onto the sidewalk.
The sky was a cloudless unblemished blue as I walked between apartments and well trimmed lawns. The buildings were made of brick and seemed to be trimmed out in stone or perhaps granite. The design was beautiful. After a while, the apartments ended and opened up to three large buildings some 300 yards away. The school had the same design and trim work as the apartments.
Two large twin buildings set on each side of what I took as the central building. The building in the middle resembled a state capital with the columns and dome. This I guessed would be where I needed to check in. The sidewalk running from the apartments continued up the left side of the campus and made its way in front of all three buildings. Once it came to the end of the far building it split in two, one following the building around back and the other somewhere off on the other side of the apartment buildings.
The center of the three buildings was a small park. A few trees, a large pond and lots of people strolling around, sitting or just napping under the sun. Just as I came up on the first building on my left I heard my counterpart’s name being called out.
“Philip?” It came as a question from a female voice. I turned looking in the direction of the park. I caught sight of a young woman approaching and looking in my direction. She was slim about five-five with light brown hair that fell just past her shoulders. She wore a dark-blue blouse along with jeans and tennis shoes.
She stepped up to me.
“I thought you had the day off?” she asked. I was not sure how to respond so I just said,
“I have something to take care of in here.” I said waving up at the main building. I turned to walk away in hopes no questions would be asked. She gripped my arm. I stopped.
“In there?” she asked. “Are you Philip or a counterpart?”
I was silent for only a couple of seconds, but it had been enough that she knew.
“You’re not Philip,” she stated.
“No. My name is William. My mother or Philips mother,” I corrected myself, “said I needed to come here.”
“She told you? You didn’t know that for yourself?” the woman asked.
“How would I know that?”
“You’ve never been here.” It was a statement more than a question, but I answered.
“Of course not. As you know, I’m his counterpart.”
She wrapped her left arm into my right.
“Come on. I’ll explain, time is of the essence. Do you understand what’s happening to you? Why you’re here?” she asked as she guided me to the next building over.
“I know I’m in an out of body experience. I’m just taken back that others are aware of it also. Philip’s mother was adamant that I come here,” I said, pointing to the middle building, “I only came because I knew she was uncomfortable with me in her home, and I’m more curious as to why I need to come to a museum.” I could see her working on what I had said.
“A museum?” she wondered.
“Yes, she told me to get to the art building.”
“What was your reason for being here?” she asked.
“I’m having an out of body experience.”
“Out-of-body-experience.” She sounded each word out separately. “I like that, out of body experience,” she repeated. “Here we call it ART; Alternate Reality Traveling. It’s rare we get anyone from a new reality, especially here on campus. Philip is one of our top travelers and pinpoint readers. That’s the ART welcome center.” She pointed to the center building. “It’s where ambassadors from other realities check in.”
“Check in?” I asked.
“Yes but we need to get you over to a mapping room.” Her arm still in mine she moved to a quicker pace toward the far building.
“What is the mapping room?” I asked.
“There.” She pointed to the furthest building. “someone at the ART building would have escorted you there. A pinpoint reader would then help to identify which reality you come from in hopes of establishing communications with your reality.”
“You can map where other realities are?” I asked.
“Sure, doesn’t your reality include training and locating in ART or out of body experience?” The term seemed to flow across her speech.
“Not really. There are some who teach it but for the majority it’s not taken seriously.” I explained.
“We come across a lot of realities that don’t place a high priority on it but not many that don’t take it seriously. So far, we haven’t found any that are as committed as us. It’s a shame because so many realities could benefit from it.”
“How?” I asked, “you can’t bring anything back with you.”
“That’s another one so many fail on. We bring back the most priceless commodity of all, knowledge. Sixty to seventy percent of our technology comes from the study of more advanced realities than ours.”
“Back at the apartment of my counterpart, his son was part machine. Is that part of the technology? My mother said his brain was in the healing center.”
“That’s right. Philip’s son was in a car accident with severe brain damage. We have the ability to remove the brain and other organs until they can be repaired. It’s much easier that way also. The patient doesn’t have to stay in the hospital or continually be cut open to get to the organ. While they’re outside the body, mechanisms are put in place. In his son’s case, the brain has been replaced with a network that will keep the body mobile and fit until the brain is well enough to be put back.”
“If there was that much damage will he be the same?” I asked, concerned. “I’m sure you have the capability to return all his motor skills but what about memories. Will he be the same person as before?”
“I guess you don’t have neuron recorders in your reality?”
“I’m not sure what you’re taking about?”
“We have a band placed around our heads while we sleep. It records all of that day’s memories and any dreams or A.R.T.’s, we have during the night.”
“Like the one I woke up with,” I mentioned.
“Yes. The recorder saves that day’s memories along with all other previous memories. At least once a week it replays those recording back to our brain, which enhances our recall. He’ll be fine.”
“And no, we don’t have anything like your recorders. We’re no where this advanced. I am curious about some things. Where is Philip right now if I am here in his body? Is he back in mine?” I asked.
“Probably not. He is in an ART himself. The void he left in his mind allowed you access. It’s a rare and nice coincidence, counterparts in an ART at the same time.”
“That’s another thing. I have traveled to a lot of places. Most wouldn’t have a counterpart of me there, yet I’m there in my real form.”
“We’re all pure energy. Your flesh back in your own reality keeps that energy bottled up as a vessel. In an ART state, you materialize your form. Although its energy is not physical, that’s why we don’t have to worry about being injured or death. If you’re asking these questions, my guess is your culture doesn’t place a lot of growth in achieving higher realms. Obviously, some do but not the majority.”
By this time, we made it up to the steps of the mapping building.
The building’s architecture inside was completely different from its outside. Where the exterior had been three stories of brick, mortar and granite, the interior was glass, Plexiglas and tile. The main hall was perhaps a hundred feet wide and separated in the middle by six escalators that ran to each floor. The escalators were parted by ten to twelve feet, so they never blocked the full view of the building behind them. The walls they ran between were thick glass or some see though material so, once again the view was hardly blocked. All the walls but a few throughout the interior also were see through. I could even see through walls that from the outside had been bricked.
“How can we see through the walls when their solid from the outside?” I asked.
“The outside structure isn’t really there. The entire building is rectangular and made up of transparent polymer. What you see on the outside is a 3D projection on the surface. We can also do the same for any of the interior walls like the ceiling.” she pointed up to the transparent roof. “Turn everything off and all you would see it a six-story clear glass building.” she explained.
“But I counted three stories” I looked at her, “even here I see only three.”
“Floors four, five and six are dedicated as meditation areas of travel. Outside they project the sky around them. Above us, the outside sky is shone just as it is.”
I was amazed at what I saw. The ceiling looked to be only a large window into the blue sky with the sun shining down on us.
“All the walls are the same.” she pointed to the clear walls the escalators ran up and down on, “those also can project images placed on them.”
We took one of the escalators up to the second floor. Just off to the right was a large room with several people standing with their backs to us. Their focus was through a clear wall into another room. A door slid back, and we stepped inside with the others. In the adjourning room was a man bent over a table perhaps six feet by six feet.
“This is one of our map rooms.” she said nodding to the other room.
The table top was thin and its main color was as dark blue. Hundreds or maybe thousands of small silver circles covered the top, many lapping over one another. Where the circles intersected each other, the crossed sections glowed gold. The entire thing was very beautiful. Looking closer at the detail, the circles glowed a in many tones of the dark blue while others held a glossy black.
They were all focusing on a small gadget on the table the man had. It seemed to be some kind of compass made of stainless steel. It had several rotating arms mounted on thin rings. All the arms centered and rotated around a small gold disk about the size of a shirt’s button. The top-most arm was the longest and started at the disk. The disk and it swiveled together. It reached out like a tiny sword about six inches and at the point held a minute clear lens. Below this arm, were seven others at about three inches in length and below them seven pairs an inch shorter. I noticed the man manipulating the device had an emblem on his dark-blue shirt on the left of his chest. The emblem was the device.
“What is all this?” I asked the woman.
“This is a map of the known realities. The instrument there is the Pinpoint which locates and maps the realities. The circles are other realities. The pinpoint locates and map’s realities we have visited. The darker the blue the more established communication we have with them. If you see two crossing over there will be these two bright spots where they meet. Inside the eye shape, they create is the ethereal plane. We can’t actually visit these realities by ART, but we can get pretty good idea of their culture by the energy patterns. We tend to stay away from these realities only because they are less advanced.”
“How can anyone track dreams and out of body experiences?”
“Easy, energy patterns. Doesn’t your world do that?” she asked.
“No, for the most part, the majority believes OBEs are just realistic dreams,” I said.
“We run across some like that. It’s what we call low energy realms. Instead of building a higher awareness level, they are usually found supporting material gain instead. That’s what the black areas are.
“Yea, that sounds like mine. So you just stay away from those?”
“It’s not that we stay away from them but because the energy fields are much lower it repels the higher one. There are very few ARTs that can or have visited those realities. Most don’t last very long,” she said.
“You mean the visits?”
“No, their world.” She turned her attention to the man in the room and knocked on the wall. The man looked up in shock as if he would never have expected to be disturbed. He then saw the woman who had knocked and gave her a look as if she were out of her mind. She pointed to me.
“New arrival,” she said loudly mouthing the words so her lips could be read also. The man stared at her. shrugging his shoulders.
“First timer!” She got louder mouthing the words plainly.
The man’s eyes went wide as he looked at me then back to the woman. She was shaking her head. The man stood upright and rushed to the wall which parted allowing us access. The woman stepped through the opening pulling me in with her. The wall closed behind us.
“His name is William.” She said introducing me, “his reality may be a low-energy dimension. He’s been here for sometime so I’m not sure, how long he has.”
The man still had not said a word until he reached over to the pinpoint and held it in front of me.
“Place your finger on the collector,” he said.
“I’m not sure what you mean.” I said.
“Here.” He pointed to the small gold disk in the center. “It will read your energy field and help us to find where and if you’re on the map.”
I hesitated, not sure if I wanted to participate.
“You won’t feel anything, but it will place your reality on the map,” the woman said.
I reached out and laid my middle right hand finger on the disk. I had no more placed it there when the man pulled it away and sat the pinpoint back on the table.
“The pinpoint can read energy fields immediately,” the woman informed me. “The first place he sits it back on is our reality and begins from there.”
“So it pinpoints the reality, which gives it the name,” I mentioned.
“Yes.” she said, “but, it’s also an acronym. Position indicator pinpointing infinite trajectories.”
My attention went back to the man and the map. The yellow jewel embedded in the middle suddenly seem to glow a bit brighter on one side. The man swung the top-most arm in the direction of the brightness. The woman leaned into my right ear.
“The collector has tiny chambers that distribute your energy pattern. The rings making up the realities are recorded energy patterns also. The pinpoint is on the map starting in this reality. Your energy pattern flows to the side of the collector which picks up the direction of similar patterns. The top arm is then turned to that direction. The sensors below help to focus on those patterns, while the bottom sensor’s repel others that would not match.”
The man turned the top set of the sensors slowly in the same area. The brighter spot on the disk faded, and he stopped the turn. He then began turning another sensor. Once the area illuminated again he stopped.
It took some time, but I realized he manipulated the middle sensor arms when the jewel was lit. He then adjusted the bottom sensors until it went out. When he seemed please with the arrangement, he marked the area by where the lens of the top arm sat over. The spot on the map lit up, same size and shape as the lens. The man then pushed the pinpoint’s center to the spot and started over again.
I stood watching intently waiting for my reality to, hopefully be found. A few minutes more went by when things blurred and went dark. I looked around to see I was back in bed, in my reality.