Jonathan Wilson – Frankie Ray

Warm, soft, soulful, hauntingly beautiful these are the first words that came to mind when I thought of describing Jonathan Wilson's new CD Frankie Ray. Each of the 16 songs plods deliberately, slowly, darkly through your soul. The 16 tracks of love and loss inspired themes are uniquely familiar. It's a rarity indeed to find an entire album and not a collection of songs. Frankie Ray should come with an instruction booklet that reads: For best results, listen to this CD in its entirety.

Jonathan Wilson is a holdover from a bygone era. Luckily, for all of us, retro is always in. Frankie Ray could have been released 35 years ago and it would have been right at home sitting next to new releases by Jonathan's influences such as Nick Drake and Gram Parsons. I can picture myself clearly - mildly stoned on some Panama Red, killing my munchies with a Big Mac in the old fashioned non biodegradable Styrofoam container, taking the last drag of a Marlboro and flicking the butt on the ground and watching it roll, coming to rest underneath the gas tank a brand new Ford Pinto. Then, I stumble into the corner record shop looking for a new album to drop on my new Hi-Fi stereo so I can come down nice and easy like. Jonathan Wilson's – Frankie Ray would be the perfect vehicle for that experience.

My first listen came at dusk, as I moved silently through the shadows of the city. Frankie Ray's other worldly resonance was apropos for the first cool evening of September announcing the coming of fall and I will forever equate it with that season. Subsequent listens have been more banal in nature, such as fixing the wall in my bathroom and folding clothes. Yet Frankie Ray still manages to alter my perception and transport me to times long forgotten.

I know I've spent a lot of time reminiscing, but I have had an eye on the future the whole time. One of mans greatest achievements of the 21^st century is personal electronics. As far as I'm concerned, mankind's crowning achievement is the ability to enjoy music virtually anywhere. All 16 songs from Frankie Ray have become permanent additions to the library of my 2 GB iPod Mini. That's a lot of valuable electronic real estate. And you know what? It's worth every byte.

Johnny Hollywood Moment of 70's AM Gold Inspired Fender Rhodes Drenched Zen Enlightenment: Carousel

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Beretta 76 – Black Beauty

Let me say Beretta 76's Black Beauty is perfect for walking down South Street on a sunny day listening to your iPod, which is exactly how I experienced it for the first time. This is a slickly produced collection of classic power-punk-pop goodness with edgy guitars. Rife with catchy, lush vocal melodies brought to you by Camille Escobedo, Beretta 76 reminded me of all the good parts of bands like Veruca Salt and Elastica. At the same time they're not afraid to straight out rock with a fat guitar solo once in a while like in the songs Hostile City and Runaway Son. All in all, this is a well crafted offering that never gets stale or boring which is a credit to them all as songwriters and arrangers. I did get a chance to see them live at The Khyber about a year and a half ago. While it's difficult for me recall the exact details of a show that far back, as I've seen thousands of local bands, I do remember that I was impressed with them and enjoyed the set and that in itself is a ringing endorsement.

Johnny Hollywood Moment of Zen Pop Righteousness: Legs

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In his book Shaman Healer Sage, Dr. Alberto Villodo talks of masks people create for protection. For a while he lived in NYC. When he first moved there he swore everyone he saw on the street were rapists and murders. After a few weeks he realized that they were just his neighbors, that they were all nice people. They had formed masks that kept people away from them. It protected them from the bad people living in the city. One day, Alberto was walking down the street and he was taken back by the scary face of a man reflected in a storefront window. He was shocked to discover that the reflection was of his own face. He had created a mask himself to protect him from the real and perceived dangers that he faced everyday in the city.

Recently I started the Healing the Light Body School, based on Alberto's 25 years of experience studying the energy medicine of the America's. The first session is The South, The Serpent, The Illumination process.  The Illumination process clears out karma and disease from our luminous energy field and brings about healing at the blueprint level of our being. You are taught to shed your past the way the serpent sheds its skin. You shed your karma and generational imprinting, where you relive the stories of your parents and grandparents. The Native Americans believe that our actions in this life will affect our families for seven generations into the future. How many people do you know who wind up in similar situations as their parents and grandparents?

Like most people I know I've done everything I can not to relieve the mistakes of my parents. By all accounts, from the outside, my life looks nothing like may parents lives. So, I was a little surprised when the issue of isolation kept popping up during the week of my class. Isolation presented itself as a minor issue that I worked on within my medicine wheel almost as an afterthought. In our experiential workshop on the medicine wheel we worked with three issues in our life. The day after, I added two more issues to the medicine wheel, one of which was isolation.

The isolation that I was working on clearing out of my life was my own, or so I thought. I found it interesting as I thought I had overcome my isolation years ago. It was a pattern I lived in my teens and early twenties that I thought I had worked through. I hadn't felt alone in a room full of people for a very long time.

There I was, completely alone in a room filled with 140 people, a couple hundred miles from home. I couldn't understand why I felt like I did. I was surrounded by people who were interested in the same thing I was and probably felt exactly as I did. So why did I feel separate? It was then I started to look at the image I was projecting: a fiery red beard, tattoos up and down my arms and usually a Philadelphia Eagles baseball cap on. I was not the prototypical shaman. I was still wearing my protective mask that I wear in South Philly to blend and protect myself in one of the most violent cities in the country.

On our second night we took part in a ceremony where our mesa was blessed and connected to a lineage of healers that goes back to the dawn of time. I began to shed my skin and my past the way the serpent sheds hers. I shaved my beard, got dressed up and covered my tattoos. I began to re-connect with myself, to the image of myself that I hold within my minds eye. It was then I stopped being invisible. People started to notice me. I was no longer threatening. I was asked by my classmates if I was in their class even though I had been sitting with them for two days by that point.

From then on I connected with people who are in the same phase of spiritual development as I am. People whom I've spent lifetimes with already, we were finding each other once again to continue our journeys together. It never ceases to amaze me the connection intense spiritual work builds.

A serpent sheds her skin when she out grows it or it no longer has any use for her. This will continue again and again for the duration of her life. This is the same for us. Once we accept our spiritual path and work through our issues. The work never stops. Once an issue is resolved it makes way for another deeper issue to surface. With each successive issue that is dealt with a new deeper level of understanding is gained and we have more tools and experience at our disposal to work thorough these underlying issues and to help those around us.

It wasn't until the class was done and I was on the 6 hour bus ride home that I realized what I had been working on. I was working on generational karma. The veils began to lift. I started to understand why the issue had surfaced in the first place. Slowly the story began to unfold from the mythic level.

First it started with taking off my mask. Once that happened I was able to allow the healing process to begin. It was very basic psych 101. The mask kept me separate from my fellows. On the way home I began to think about what I was going back to. I was going back to a beautiful girlfriend, house, cat, dog and no job. Then, the revelations began. I hadn't worked in 4 months. I had an illumination 2 months prior in which we worked on my not living my true path the reoccurring theme of losing my job. That session inspired me to take the class.

For the most part, I had been sitting around for 4 months trying to figure out what I am supposed to be doing with my life. I had completely isolated myself for months under the guise of "trying to find myself" without even realizing it. Then the blueprint began to emerge. This pattern is activated every couple of years. I lose a job, isolate myself for a few months, get another job for a couple of years and then I get laid off and start the whole cycle again.

Once that blueprint came to light, I was able to see that my mother was living the same pattern. Although slightly different, she never had a lot of friends. She moved away to the country and didn't have many neighbors. She kept to herself in the middle of nowhere and eventually the isolation pattern that existed in her energetic field became active. She got sick and can no longer work. Now she is home all the time she sees my dad for an hour or two a day but other then that she's alone.

Going back further, I looked at my grandparent's pattern. My Mom's parents didn't have a lot of friends. They kept to themselves for most of their lives and just sat around waiting to die. My Fathers' parents have out lived all of their friends and have been sitting around for almost 30 years. This is the generational karma that I was living and that I am now healing.

When I heal this issue within myself, I also heal the blueprint which has been active within my luminous light body my entire life and I heal this for my parents and their parents. This blueprint now has become a source of power that I will use to heal others and to heal the earth.

This is just the beginning.

Namaste

Humbly asked him to remove our short comings...

(7^th Step Alcoholics Anonymous)

I understand what it's like to be humbled and humiliated but I've never had a good understanding of humility and being humble. Admittedly, my ego is huge. This has probably been the main factor in keeping me separate from other people and alone for most of my life.

Recently, I've been being shown just how big my ego is and exactly how humble I am not. I've found the best way to gauge personal growth is through relationships with other people. Luckily, I am aware enough to understand the things that I am being shown about myself that I don't like are the issues that I am meant to deal with. It's the next phase of my development as a human being and I am lucky enough to have an opportunity to change and grow as a person.

I have some good friends that like me enough to be honest and give me an objective view of myself. Because my head is usually so far up my own ass that I can't see the forest through the trees, I need people to tell me how I am viewed and how I come off to the rest of the world. Apparently I come off aloof, pissed off and unapproachable. Not a very flattering combination, no wonder I'm alone. The sad part is I am a really good person with a lot to offer and a lot of love to give. That is the part of myself that I want to present to the world. Its time to clear out those other negative attributes that no longer serve their purpose. This is where I am in life, these are the issues that I am working on and changing.

Meditate and Destroy... 

(Noah Levine)

I've been being led to Buddhism and Zen of late. I'm just following my intuition, trusting my instincts. These philosophies lead you to the present moment. My life is busy, it moves very fast and the practice of meditation allows me to slow things down and remain in the present, to take a step back and see things for what they really are. It's very helpful in today's fast paced world. It's also helping me to objectively view my life and see the areas of it that need improvement.

The book Dharma Punx is a memoir of the life of Noah Levine. I really identified with his story: a young punk rock kid, on drugs, in and out of trouble and how he eventually turned his life around through Buddhism and meditation. It's a mixture of recovery, spirituality and punk rock, the same 3 things that make up most of my life today. I recently had an opportunity to attend a workshop which was lead by Noah. It was a meditation and lecture on compassion and forgiveness.

I've spent 1/3 of my life in recovery. I am very aware of the people I have harmed and who I need to make amends to. I'm very aware of my shortcomings and my resentments and how my shortcomings create resentments. My understanding of the mechanics of the processes involved will do nothing to stop the cycle of self-centered fear that leads to resentment and hurt unless I deflate my ego and become humble. If nothing changes, then nothing changes.

Three of us took the 2 hour trip up the New Jersey Turnpike for the workshop. My friend AJ had been on retreat with Noah so they already knew each other. When we arrived at the yoga center (where the workshop was being held), Noah and another guy Rich were hanging out front. Noah was very down to earth, humble and approachable, all the things I've been wanting for myself. I knew I was in the right place.

The workshop began with everyone introducing themselves to break down the barriers we all have and to bring a deeper level of comfort. It's very difficult for a room full of strangers to relax and let go. We all have programmed defenses that are meant to keep us safe in unfamiliar environments. This was the first step to breaking them down.

After the introductions we began the meditation. We were being guided to connect with people that we have resentments against and/or negative feelings towards and to send them compassion and forgiveness. I was reviewing the list of usual suspects, the people I had hurt and who have hurt me over the years. This is a process I've done many times over the last decade and I pretty much have forgiven or been forgiven by most of these people. So I started to focus on why I am here, focusing on deflating my ego and becoming more humble and approachable. I was reaching out spiritually and asking for guidance. I am ready to stop the pain of isolation and open up to allow others in.

While the first part of the meditation was done sitting, the second part was a walking meditation. It was a beautiful March afternoon. It was in the 60's, bright, sunny and warm. Approximately 20 people slowly and quietly walked out into a North Jersey strip mall parking lot contemplating the mystery that is their life. Initially I was struck by the surreal nature of this experience. It reminded me of a scene from Night of the Living Dead. More accurately is was: The Day of the Awakening Buddha's.

I brought my focus back to the task at hand, deflating my ego and becoming humble. I walked out into an area of the parking lot that was away from other people as not to disturb their experience. While I was walking slowly looking down at the ground in quiet reflection I came across a little plastic toy with no head. Instantly, I knew the little guy was a representation of me and he was my message.

I bent down and picked up the toy. As I held it in my hand, I literally just touched it with my finger and it completely fell apart in my hand. The front became separated from the back and the arms and legs fell away. A few pieces fell through my fingers and landed back on to the ground. I let the pieces go that initially fell to the ground and held on to the remaining pieces as I continued to walk and contemplate the deeper meaning of the toy and what it represented to me and my life. When the walking meditation was over and we all went back inside and I threw away the remaining pieces. I spent the rest of the meditation, talk and most of the next day contemplating the meaning behind my experience.

The Knight in Rusty Armor...

(Robert Fisher)

The message I was being given breaks down like this: The fact that the toy was already missing its head represented the fact that once my ego is removed I will then be able to start to break down the armor I have built over the years. The initial spark of recognition of what was happening allowed for a few pieces of the armor to fall away. My ego's need to over analyze everything caused me to hold onto most of the pieces of the armor while I was attempting to intellectualize my epiphany. I could have let everything go right then and there, the message was clear, but still I needed to hold on to some of the broken pieces of armor until I was entirely ready to let them go. It was a metaphor for my entire recovery and spiritual life.

My armor was built over the years to protect me from past hurts and being hurt again in the future. It was initially built to mask my insecurities and fears. Then after I bottomed out with drugs and alcohol, I was humbled and humiliated. I was left extremely vulnerable as I started the process of recovery. The walls I built then to protect me while I worked on myself were even bigger and stronger then before and continued to keep me separate and attached to suffering. It was just another defense mechanism, another symptom of my disease.

all over the country I've seen it the same
nobody's winning at this kind of game
we've got to do better it's time to begin
you know all the answers must come from within so...
come on and take a free ride
come on and sit here by my side
come on and take a free ride...

(Edgar Winter)

In my search for happiness I have tried sex, drugs, Rock and Roll, exercise, food, money and anything else I thought would make me feel good. I have also explored many different brands of spirituality only to find that happiness is as fleeting as sadness. When I'm not happy and I'm not sad, I just AM. In those moments there is nothing, just me, just John. All my life I've just wanted to be OK with myself. That's what I have been searching for, just being in the moment and being OK with myself and all that I am, was and will ever be.

At different times I have been drawn to different things, it is all part of my journey. Now I am being guided back to myself in the form of quiet reflection. It's a paradox, as is most of recovery. Only silent meditation will bring and end to my isolation.

I could feel that it was going to be “one of those nights” when I left for my job at the bar. Everyone of late had been irritated, edgy and in a bad mood. Essentially, being a bartender should be one of the coolest jobs in the world and when it isn’t then there is something wrong. Usually it has to do with people and their issues. The situation has since been resolved so I’m not going to feed into past resentments and people’s shortcomings. But suffice it to say the air was full of tension that was affecting everyone.

When my friend Rich came in he announced that he was in a weird mood. He then decided to play music that no one was really into. He was pulling double duty that night as sound guy and doorman. When people sitting at the bar complained, I put on a new CD. Since he was doing sound, he didn’t like the fact that I changed it and made an offhanded comment that I chose to ignore. When a patron, who was a regular, jumped in the sound booth and put on a CD, cranked it up and Rich didn’t say anything to him, I lost it. We got into a huge fight. It was really close to being violent, which is ridiculous. We’ve been friends for years and we were basically venting our frustrations over the unnecessary drama that was constantly present at the bar. We both we’re unable to avoid being sucked into and becoming part of the drama and it really changed the nature of our friendship. I was in his band at the time and that ended that evening. It was a side project for me and it was coming anyway but, it should have been handled differently. I think we have a mutual respect now that we didn’t have up to that point. Well, I know I do anyway. To be honest, the only reason the argument didn’t get physical is because I needed the job really bad. I hadn’t been that angry in years. I believe this incident was the catalyst for the manager at the time to start trying to get rid of me. This is what happens when anger, fear, resentment and frustration do not have a constructive outlet.

I haven’t drank alcohol for over 11 years and I haven’t smoked for over 6. After my little altercation, I went back behind the bar where I was greeted with a shot and a cigarette. Talk about being at the wrong place at the wrong time. To everyone’s amazement, including my own, I declined temptation and eventually calmed down. It was the kind of evening, where on the surface things looked like they would blow over. But the seeds were planted and the effects are still being felt today.

Rich usually gives me a ride home from the bar in Philly to New Jersey where we both live. I was still so pissed still that when he asked, I decided to take the train home and walk the mile from the train station to my house in the wee hours of the morning. 

Kristena, the other bartender, offered me a ride to the train. Since I was good and resisted drinking and smoking, I wanted a Geno’s cheesesteak. It wasn’t hard to talk Kristena into a 4 AM cheesesteak feeding either, she’s good like that. We ate and then she dropped me off at the train. And that’s when the fun started.

I went below the street at 8^th and Market. As I’m walking up to the ticket machine, I notice that there is a black guy wearing a woman’s pants suit, high heals and a short blonde wig buying a ticket. Now, I’m an open minded guy, the bar where I work has played host to shemale, transvestite & fetish parties. I actually had a fleeting thought as I walked by that I should invite this guy to the next party at the bar but I was tired and really wasn’t looking to engage this guy in conversation.

It wasn’t hard to find a bench on the train platform since I was the only person there. I sat and looked down, a cigarette was still burning. This meant I had just missed a train. After 2 AM trains only run every 40 minutes or so. I checked the time; it was 4:40 AM. It had already been a long night and it wasn’t nearly over.

The roller coaster of emotion had ended and I was starting to come down from the ride. I was mentally and physically exhausted, completely spacing out, staring into nothing when a noise crept into my awareness. As I was the reflecting on the events of the day, through the din, I heard a loud clapping sound that apparently needed my attention.

I looked towards the sound and was greeted by the sight of the transvestite running up and down the stairs stomping his feet to get my attention. How long he was doing this I don’t know. But when he did get my attention, he stopped on the stairs and looked at me like a crazed wild animal. I just closed my eyes, looked away and shook my head and thought to myself: “I don’t fucking need this”.

Not to be deterred by my initial lack of interest, he stomps his way from one end of the platform to the other which is around 100 ft. long. When he gets to the end he disappears behind a stairwell and starts kicking a metal door. He kicks the shit out of this door for well over 1 minute straight. As abruptly as he began, he stops and then tramps his way back in my direction. He comes within 10 feet of me and stands there looking at me.

At this point I’m thinking of throwing him in front of the train when it comes. All I know is I’ve had a really bad day and now I have a black transvestite fucking with me at 5 in the morning when all I want to do is go home. I’m convinced I’m going to have to hurt this guy to make him to stop because he obviously is not wrapped too tight.

My new friend was not done with his little act either. As he was standing there looking at me, he starts moaning: “oooohhhh… ahhhhhhh…” for like 30 seconds! And then he speaks his only words of the evening. He simply states: “I just orgasmed”. He barely got the words out of his mouth and I was on my feet and right in his face. I pointed my finger at him, which could have gone right through his skull if I made contact with it, and yelled: “Don’t you FUCKING talk to me!”

The shocked look on his face could have made it into one of those Priceless commercials. He was in pure disbelief. He actually walked away and sat on the farthest bench away from me and stayed put and quiet until the train came. I don’t think anyone ever stood up to him before. I’m sure people just try to ignore him in the hope that he’d just go away, as I had done for a while. When I told my friend Joe this story, he described him perfectly and said he had been on the corner of 20^th and Market Streets at noon that day yelling, screaming & carrying on.

There is no real moral to this story, it’s just an allegory. Rich and I are still friends. The manager of the bar has since moved on and now there is no drama. Kristena still likes cheesesteaks and gives me rides from time to time. Joe still visits the corner of 20^th and Market 5 days a week, not because he’s looking for transvestites, but because he works in the building that’s there. And me, I have never seen the transvestite or heard any other stories of him, wherever he is, I’m sure he’s freaking someone out which is what he seems to enjoy the most. And yes I did make it home that night and as I laid my head on the pillow to put the day to rest, the sun came up and I was greeted by a brand new day. And that my friends, is a happy ending.

A man goes to the doctor for his annual checkup. After the tests, the doctor is reviewing the results and is intrigued by the fact that the man is now microencephelatic and he was in perfect health the year before.

Doctor: When you were here last year, you were in prefect health there was nothing abnormal about you. But now 1 year later your head has shrunken down the size of a softball. This is the most bizarre case of microencephelatitus I have ever heard of. When did this start happening?

Man: Well, Doc, you see… this is what happened: One day I was walking along a deserted beach and I tripped over a lamp that was partially covered by the sand. I thought what the hell? Why not? So, I rubbed the lamp. And much to my surprise a genie appeared! Well, the genie was so grateful for me releasing her from her prison in a bottle that, she granted me 3 wishes. For my first wish I asked for wealth beyond measure, more money then I could ever spend in 10 lifetimes. And *POOF* there it was! I was rich beyond imagination. Instantly I had all the material possessions a man could ever want. For my second wish I asked for the most beautiful woman ever to fall in love me and I her. And *POOF* there she was the most beautiful woman ever, the kind of beauty that no man could resist. The kind of beauty men start epic wars over. We fell madly in love instantly. I don’t think anyone has ever been so happy in there entire life as I was right then. And so for my third and final wish, and this is where I think I went wrong, I asked for a little head.

The origins of the Keytar can be traced back to the early 1970’s when Edgar Winter tricked everyone into thinking they were cool by playing one on the song Frankenstein. Well, he didn't exactly "trick" people, it's just that everyone was really high on acid and thought that Keytar's were either cool or just a bus load of penguins. In the 1980's when everyone was busy sobering themselves up with cocaine and wondering what STD's they had contracted in the 70's, the Keytar once again slipped under the radar in bands such as Devo, The Thompson Twins and Laura Branigan (Who later died due to the direct effects of Keytar exposure). In the 1990's while the people who ingested too much pop culture in the previous 2 decades were crying that their inner child still wets the bed in an AA meeting, the Keytar was nearly forgotten. This “convenient forgetting” which is also known by the psychological disorder - denial, was almost single handedly destroyed by the band Queensryche. This slight resurgence was due to people actually buying the bands CD’s after their fluke hit song “Silent Lucidity”. Yes, the Keytar was nearly denied out of existence along with Richard Simmons, The Mullet and Cat Juggling. That was until some kid named Dean found one while cleaning out his father’s basement after he was killed by his transvestite lover. Dean, fueled by his angst, then started the 80’s influenced indie rock band called “Lobster’s are God” and was singed to the non existent indie label “Your Mom” and is best known by the song  “You just don’t get it” that no one ever heard. Tragically, Dean was killed during the bands debut. Apparently, during the 27^th minute of his Keytar solo, the normally apathetic crowd of indie hipsters, were whipped into a deadly frenzy of Converse Chuck Taylors and a Technicolor rainbow whirlwind of tight shirts with clever sayings. What happened next is still a mystery, but what we do know is that Dean’s body was found in a back alley near the club. He was hanging from his white belt and most of the Keytar was still shoved up his ass. Some people say Dean was a martyr, while others say he was a hero of mythical proportions like Ron Jeremy. Wherever your beliefs may lie, his story stands as a warning to the youth of today and the dangers of playing the Keytar.

I met Rob when he was getting clean again after a year long run on crack. My roommate at the time, Phil, and he used to hang out when he was clean before. Since Phil and I hung out now, and Rob was back, we all hung out together. We were three guys in our mid twenties trying to get clean and sober, get over our collective pasts, move on and have some fun in life.

Rob was born in North Camden, one of the most desolate parts of one of the poorest cities in the nation. It wasn’t easy for him. He was the black sheep of the family and was shipped off from foster home to foster home growing up. He suffered all of the neglect and abuse that there is to inflict on people. As cliché as it sounds for a poor inner city minority without a home to fall into drugs, there are reasons it happens, it kills the pain of your reality and it’s sometimes a step up from where you are. And basically some people honestly don’t know any better or anything else. Rob was one of those people.

Even though sobriety offered him a host of new friends, jobs and a glimpse of a life that he had never experienced before, his demons were always right below the surface. He often fell in back into drugs for short periods of time. He became a chronic relapser. He could never get honest with himself. I sincerely believe there was just too much pain for him to look at. It was just too overwhelming for him, so he did the best he could for as long as he could.

Phil and I had a nice sized apartment and there were always people over. It was a cool place for people to just come and hang out. There was always food, TV, movies and music. Most of all it was a safe place to be among friends. Rob knew this and he would come over a lot when he was feeling like using or something was bothering him. We became friends then, hanging out talking about what was going on with us. He was always welcome. Sometimes he would just come over to be in a calm environment. He would put on headphones and listen to music and be by himself if he needed or he would try to play one of my guitars.

One night he and Phil were at a club and that’s when he met Sharon. Sharon was a very pretty, nice, single mother of 2 boys. Like all good codependent relationships, he went over one night for a date and never left. Thus it began.

I would see Rob periodically from then on. There was always some drama that he created and was invariably running from. Exactly what you’d expect when you pair an enabler with a drug addicted self obsessed compulsive womanizing gambler.

This went on for years. As Phil and I moved on with our respective lives, Rob always stayed in that cycle of abuse and addiction. I would hear stories from time to time from various sources. He was constantly going through jobs, Sharon would kick him out, get a restraining order then they were back together, he was holed up in Atlantic City gambling smoking crack with hookers, you name it. All the glitz and glamour drug addiction has to offer.

One of the last times I saw Rob, he told me the story of how his brother Louis was on a crack binge and asked him to come over to his apartment, he wanted help. He arrived at the apartment to find Louis hanging from a rope in his bathroom. He committed suicide. It was premeditated. Louis could not see a way out of his cycle of addiction and wanted Rob to find his body.

Meanwhile, Sharon had been trying to move on with her life and Rob made it as difficult as he possibly could. He would stalk her and break into her apartment and chase her new boyfriend around with knives. You know, all of the classic obsessive maneuvers.

This is what happens when abuse and addiction remain untreated and spiral out of control. By this time he had been given every opportunity there was to help himself: detoxes, rehabs, counseling etc. He chose to not get well. When I met him he was a genuinely nice guy with a lot of problems who could have gotten himself together and lead a productive life and been an inspiration to others. He allowed himself to degenerate into something that I didn’t know.

After 7 or 8 years, our lives had moved on to separate paths that no longer crossed. Then one day a mutual friend was talking about him in the past tense. I hadn’t really seen or heard about him for almost 2 years by this point. In disbelief I asked what happened. Rob had burnt every bridge there was left to him in New Jersey and decided to move to Florida for a geographical change as a solution to all of his problems. As his pattern would dictate he met a girl in Florida and stated using drugs again down there. If nothing changes then, nothing changes. Rob could no longer bare the consequences of his actions. He took his own life just as his brother Louis did before him, by hanging himself.

Rob’s death had shaken me to my core. I was very deeply affected and saddened by his death, almost unnaturally so. Even though we had not seen each other for almost 2 years, even though he had become someone whose actions I did not agree with, I still considered him a friend and would have helped him anyway I could.

Death has been a reoccurring theme in my life. I have spent the last decade working on my spiritual life, as a result I know our spirit goes on and we continue to evolve in the astral. So, I am rather accepting and philosophical when in comes to death. But, Rob… His death was different. It affected me on a level I was just beginning to become aware of.

When someone takes their own life they become stuck in a nightmarish state of being. They are so focused and consumed with the negative emotions that have driven them to the point of taking there own life that they relive the moment over and over. They are so focused and consumed that they cannot move on from that moment. In that place there is no time, there is only the moment and it can last forever.

We are not powerless to help. For lack of a better word, praying for that persons well being and sending them love will help them move towards the light and spirit guides who will help them move on.

With this understanding of the way of things, I prayed for Rob to see the light and move on and I asked for his spirit guides and mine to help him move on to a better place. This was the first time I had sincerely done this. I had never put these principals into action. I honestly wanted to help him. All of the sudden I had a knowingness, that’s the only way I can describe it. I knew that I was supposed to help him and I knew how. I was supposed to tell Sharon that he was gone. All that was occurring took me back for a moment, but I accepted the responsibility. I put it out there that if he would create the situation where Sharon and I would run into each other that I would help him move on by telling her that he had passed. I hadn’t seen Sharon in years, I had no idea where she was but it didn’t matter, I knew this was out of my hands now.

About 2 months went by and I was doing some last minute Christmas shopping on Dec 23^rd at Old Navy. Out of the blue Sharon appears and gives me a hug. She thought she saw me and wanted to say Hi. She was there with her brother doing some last minute shopping also. She asked me if I saw any of the old crowd and I said, no, and she said, yeah, me neither. Then she said that she hadn’t seen Rob for a year and I just said that I hadn’t seen him for a long time myself. We exchanged pleasantries and she left.

I had just gotten my first taste of how spirit works and I failed miserably. I did not follow through with my word. Here after 10 years of study and meditation I had finally gotten to the point of spirit communication. At last I connected with the spirit of a departed friend and made a contract with him so his spirit could rest and move on. Who knows how many spirit guides and angels worked on creating the coincidences for Sharon and I to meet after a couple of years, and when the moment finally arrives… I don’t feel like doing it in an Old Navy 2 days before Christmas. The audacity! Well, after I realized all of this I felt horrible.

That night I prayed and meditated on the events. I put it out there that I was still the guy for the job. I had accepted this task and I’d see it through. I asked that a new meeting for Sharon and I be created and I’d tell her then.

After the holiday’s I was laid off from my job so I decided to back to college and take some classes. A couple months into the semester I am in the cafeteria eating lunch when I hear someone call my name. You guessed it. It’s Sharon! And she’s going to college too! And she’s sitting at a lunch table with 20 of her classmates. Well, once again in my infinite wisdom, I decided that telling her that her abusive ex-boyfriend killed himself over a year ago and that he wanted me to tell her that he was passed while we were in the middle of a packed college cafeteria wasn’t a good idea.

Once again, back to the drawing board. That evening I put it out there in my meditation that I will tell Sharon, but it needs to be at an appropriate time and place. This is the way spirit works, you put it out to the universe what your needs are and they are met, quite literally. By this time I’m starting to get the hang of it.

Ironically I never saw Sharon again on campus for the rest of the year. One night I went to a club that I rarely go to and we run into each other. It had been almost a year since I agreed to help Rob. He had been dead for almost a year and a half by this point. Sharon and I were making small talk when I nonchalantly ask her where she’s living these days. She said well, I don’t want to say because I don’t ever want Rob to find out where I am. This is why I was chosen. This was my moment. I asked her to go to the outside deck with me to talk. I could see it in her eyes she knew something was up. I took her off to the side and told her that she didn’t have to live in fear of Rob anymore and he had passed away over a year earlier. I told her that I didn’t have all the details but she could rest assured that he would never bother her again.

Sharon was visibly shaken but she held her composure quite well. It was at that moment that I knew that what I had agreed to do had nothing to do with me whatsoever. I could have saved this woman and her family almost a year of stress, always looking over her shoulder, silently living in fear of the unknown. I could have done that in Old Navy, I could have done that anywhere. It was then that I understood what soul transition work is about.

I haven’t felt Rob’s presence for a couple of years now and I haven’t seen Sharon again. But they have both been released from their past. They have both moved on.