The Magical Mother Encounter

Over the years that followed, I spoke with, corresponded with, and observed literally tens of thousands of people who used these devices. Over and over again I was amazed to witness how the machines had transformed their lives. I met with a businessman who had made millions out of a creative idea he’d had on a table that moved him through an electrostatic field; people who had recovered from chronic pain and diseases using light and sound machines; men who had meditated daily for over twenty years who found that mind machines took them to deeper levels of meditation; world-famous bodybuilders who used mind machines to increase growth hormone and build bigger muscles; older people who had recovered mental powers and memories they though had disappeared forever; actors, dancers, painters, opera singers, and other performers who believed mind machines had sharpened their skills and boosted them into peak performance states; and hundreds of other stories.

As I heard the tales of all these people, I felt a great distance between us. The machines were producing extraordinary experiences and creating permanent changes in their lives. Not in mine. Sure, they put me into states of deep relaxation and reverie, produced some unearthly, unforgettable experiences, and even helped me write my books. But nothing more, nothing profound. The voice of God had not spoken to me out of a whirlwind.

The authentic transforming potential of the machines was really hammered home to me during one of my workshops inManhattan. I had helped a woman get onto a machine that revolved her gently around in circles through an electromagnetic field. A few minutes later I glanced over and saw she was crying.

I quietly asked her if she wanted me to stop the machine. “No, no, please don’t,” she said in a childish pleading voice, “let me go on!” So I did, and she revolved around and around for about ten more minutes, with tears pouring down her cheeks. I was afraid she was having some sort of breakdown—not the sort of thing you want to have happen in your workshop.

As the machine stopped I asked her if she was all right. She beamed at me through her tears and said she felt wonderful. Uh-oh, said the voice in my head, something happened here. I asked her to sit down for a talk.

“My mother died when I was eight years old,” she told me, “but I had a long conversation with her just now.” She proceeded to tell me she’d been severely depressed for most of her life, was taking antidepressants, was about forty pounds overweight, had been unable to hold a job because of her depression, and had been having suicidal thoughts. And then she’d met her mother on the machine.

Her mother had been killed in a car accident. “And when I saw her today,” she told me, “I realized I had always blamed her for leaving me . . . that ever since then I’d just been filled with anger at her for being so selfish as to get herself killed like that and abandoning me.” She had told her mother about her anger, and her mother had responded by saying that she loved her deeply, that she had not wanted to leave her daughter—she had not wanted to be killed in the car accident! “I loved you then, and I love you now,” the mother told her, “and I’m sorry I died and left you, but it’s time for you to stop being angry at me. Get on with your life.

The mother and daughter embraced in a blaze of light and love. “I realized,” the woman said, “that I did love my mother, and that my mother loved me. Mother died, but at least she’d lived before she died. I haven’t even lived yet. I’ve got to start living.”

I heard from her about six months later. She wanted to talk. When I met her at the café, she looked much younger—she had dropped about forty pounds and was glowing with energy. She told me that the same day as her experience on the machine, she had stopped taking her antidepressant medication. She had felt great. She had continued seeing a therapist she met at the workshop, who used the mind machine in her practice. She had a session on the machine every week. She had taken a new job and was doing very well there. She had met a man, they were engaged to be married. She was healthy, happy, radiant, plugged in to the cosmic power outlet.

I know, I know, the whole thing sounds so pat, corny. But it really happened. And it awakened something in me, a sense of what enormous potentials these mind machines possessed. Clearly, the machine did not create the changes in this woman’s life—I have no doubt that she had gone through a long process of preparation for that breakthrough experience on the machine. But if it did not cause it, the machine at least served as a catalyst for the experience. Something profound had happened. And it made me think of all the hundreds of people who had told me stories of their own life-transforming experiences on the machines. Remarkable stories. Extraordinary. Amazing.

But most of all, not mine. Most of all, other people’s stories. And then somewhere in there I fell into an abyss.

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