Old Spirits Young Spirits

Last week, I read a piece of my new book to my Lake Writer's Group. Testing the waters, if you will and asking for their feed back. They're very good at this sort of stuff, and it takes a brave soul to put him or herself out there with something for them to critique, let me tell you.

The group is made up of writers of every genre you can imagine, and conducted by smart people from many walks of life. English teachers (Yikes!) lawyers, doctors, world travelers, spies, I think, - or maybe they're just rehearsing the next scene in their next thriller. I'm pretty sure there are no murderers among us, but if you go by their murder mysteries, you might scratch your head and say, "Hmmmm. . ." She knows a little too much about poisons if you ask me. But don't tell her I said so.

And then there's me. I see dead people. So I write about what I know. Isn't that what they tell you to do? Yes. So, my genre concerns itself with the Afterlife; and in this newest attempt of mine at the next Great American Non-fiction Book, I'm talking about Pre-existence. So much fun! And there's a lot of head-scratching going on around the table, believe me.

My fellow writers, nice people, everyone of them, give my readings a lot of lee way. They're mostly still trying to figure what the heck I'm talking about, but they're great listeners and very polite about the ghosts I pull out at the Friday morning group.

Case in point: Last week the piece of the new book I read to them dealt with Old Spirits and Young Spirits. "So, what's an Old Spirit?" Someone asked. "Compared to a Young Spirit". The answer caught me off-guard, and my answer was painfully inarticulate as I groped for words that made sense and soon realized I was making very little sense.

Let me try again. To put it in context, the opening chapter of my new book begins with the birth and shocking arrival of a Young Human Spirit. He has no idea where he is or how he got here. Memories of the place he came from, clear at first, begin to fade with the sudden and horrific realization that he has reincarnated on earth.What was he thinking!

"Where am I? Holy sh. . . what is this place? Woah! Everything's upside down! Yikes! What's happening? Heeelp! Can anyone hear me?" 

A Young spirit is not young in years as we understand time in the 3rd. Dimension (Where we live). He's young in that he hasn't been on earth many times, and maybe not at all, so he has little or no experience with what it's like here. No wonder he was yelling for help. He usually comes here to learn, in what may be the original 'School of Hard Knocks', where we earn extra points for our spiritual and human evolution. A Young spirit is either going to remember nothing about anything when he arrives, or he is going to be mightily confused. As this one was.

An Old spirit on the other hand, is one who has been around this block many times over the eons. He's not phased (fazed?) by it. He probably napped the whole time he was in the womb because he knew where he was going and what he'd signed up for. Even if it was a very difficult life - as they sometimes are for Old spirits. They sign up because of their experience, and they sign up to teach and to enlighten the rest of us. They arrive on earth with everything under control, ready to take this life in stride.

It's strange, but the very people who aggravate or concern us the most may be Old Spirits with lessons to teach. Or a child who is born a cripple, what is she teaching? A young man with aids ... We've got so much to learn.

I believe that young or old, our spirits have all been around since time began. Some of them just take their time getting down here. That's my take.

An old friend of mine passed away not long ago, and a very neat thing happened while I was out walking the morning after he died. It was a warm day and my shirt was sticking to to me. My mind was in neutral, not thinking, not even noticing much, when a sudden gust of warm air blew past me. I stopped in my tracks and had the clearest impression of my friend arriving at his destination. The light around him was misty, opaque as I watched him step onto a platform or concourse or something. I saw him reach out to someone, a young man, I think, who was there to meet him. Although he was bedridden in his last days, he was walking strongly, smiling and was obviously pleased to be there. Taking it all in stride. I think he was an Old spirit.

We should post a quiz  on FB : Are You A Young Spirit or an Old Spirit? Click here to find out.

Take care, See you next time.