What if there were no time? No past, present or future but it’s all one?
Just came out of a meditation and need a place to write down what happened. Here is as good as anywhere!
WARNING: If you are nutty enough to actually read what I share on this site, you might not be too surprised to read what’s below. This site used to be more of a personal journal of mine and then it became a training ground for future books and then it was, oh, I don’t know, and now I pretty much dare put anything here if only for the simple reason that … I can more easily find it later. 🙂
I know, dangerous reasoning there in part because ANYone can also find it here and the out-of-this-world stories I tell here may and will be used against me when I’m running for Senator … HA HA HA! Yeah, that’s never going to happen. So, since I have no fear, here goes.
Did you catch that powerful statement I slipped in there?
I have no fear.
You’ve been warned. Here we go.— The Management
I hit play on the video below, turned the screen to the wall, sat down, adjusted my noise-cancelling headphones, put on my eye mask, closed my eyes and let go.
As with any habit, some days are better than others.
This morning, I felt it even as I sat down.
By the way, dear reader, whoever you may be daring to read through my mind here, writing about your meditation afterwards can help you solidify what you experienced, even shed new light, and often get it from a slightly different perspective.
The speaker is going to take us down a flight of stairs into a meadow.
I looked right: my mom.
I looked left: my dad.
They were right there. So close, so, well, this isn’t going to make a lot of sense, but so real. My mom spoke.
“I know you’re continuously surprised were here but we’re always here. We’re always right here next to you. It’s just up to you to come to where we are and meet us.”
The guide leads us down the stairs one by one, calling out a number from 10 to 1 towards the bottom. More often than not, I know I’m drifting when the count goes from, say, 8 to 6 and I missed 7 because I was somewhere else. But this morning, I heard almost all of the numbers.
My parents kept by my side the whole time.
Oh, I forgot (see why this helps to write this down?). At the top, they asked if I wanted anyone else around. I asked for Wayne. Rather than asking which Wayne (I had/have several Waynes in my life), my dad brought in both my uncle Wayne Dyer.
“I know you liked that guy.”
He said about Wayne Dyer. Wayne Dyer said my full name, “Bradley Thomas Charbonneau.” As if he knew me.
Soon, my aunt Beth was behind me and I was surprised because she’s alive. She said something like:
“Hey, yep, I know, I’m here. Roll with it.”
OK, I’ll roll with it.
Editor’s Note: OK, fine, I’m the editor. But you know what’s crazy? (Says the guy writing about a past life regression in public…) I have now written here for, oh, I don’t know, 5 minutes, maybe 10, and I feel like I’m about 5% into the experience. Either:
- this is going to take forever
- I’ll never finish
- I’ll stop somewhere in the middle
- it’s going to be a Cliff Notes version
OK, I’ll try to hold off on the meta commentary.
We descended the stairs and I’m usually in the same meadow: the one near our house in South Lake Tahoe. I don’t know if it has a name but the one on the way to Fallen Leaf Lake.
Yet, this morning it was taller, more lush and I didn’t stay there long.
We then go to a stream and walk alongside it for a while.
Then a little bridge.
Then a marble building.
We go inside.
I’m sure I’m skipping parts but hey, what is this? Legal testimony? Roll with it.
This is where things turned it what I can best describe as Thailand. Deep brown floors of thick planks of old wood.
There’s a guy, he’s 37 years old, at a table with a woman sitting next to him.
I’m going to mix up timing of the actual meditation here as I type this and it’s all flowing into my fingers.
The guy at the table doesn’t really understand how I’m “there” and talking to him. I try to explain I’m “him” from the future. Somehow, the woman, who turns out to be his sister, is fully on board with me being there and, maybe for the first time, lets her brother know this is possible.
Not only possible but that everyone, every single person has access to it. It’s just a question of being open to it.
The man is trying his best to roll with it.
Things are getting a little fuzzy for me here now in the present day typing this so I’m going to get in here as much as I can.
So, let’s recap. We’ve got the 37-year-old guy at the table in Thailand in, maybe, some kind of temple (but could be a café), his sister there and then I’m there, too.
He’s coming to grips with me being there when we then go back in time from his perspective to connect with someone even further back.
So, now we have the present moment, 1937 Thailand (?) (yes, he’s 37 and it was 1937), with the guy from the future, that would be me of 2020, and we’re going now further into the past.
Either I can’t remember that part or I didn’t go with him or it “wasn’t me” or I don’t know but now I have nothing so I’m going to move on.
Our guide then has us go to the dinner that evening.
Sam, (oh, that’s his name by the way, probably Samuel) is still trying to wrap his head around the idea that I’m there from the future and, even nuttier, I’m a “future life” version of him.
Our guide then takes us to “the most important event” in the guy’s life.
It was just the next week. It was the moment things became clear that he communicated or connected with me, from the future, but then, uh oh, hold onto your seats, there was no past, present or future and, somehow, we’re all co-existing at the same time because there is no time.
Dear Reader: I’m laughing a little to myself as I type this because if I were reading this–and I’m not even sure I would be reading this, I mean: why?–but it’s so out there that even though this all “happened” to me this morning in my own meditation, in my own head, in my own, what is that: imagination? foresight? view into the past?, I still have trouble grasping it all. If I were reading this from someone else, I’m pretty sure my brilliant comment would be along the lines of, “OK, whatever you say, dude.”
Stunningly insightful commentary, I admit.— The (Lack of) Management
So the most important event in Sam’s life was when I, Bradley from the future, came to him at his café or temple table and communicated with him.
It took him a week to let that sink in but then it really sunk in. He really got it, he really went all in and went for it.
The guide then reminds us to find something we can learn from this experience that we can bring into our present lives. Here, today, I’m going with what Sam is learning, experiencing, and trying to be open to accepting. Well, he does accept it and that is what becomes that important event.
So is that my “important event,” too? Today, back to Sam and his sister? That encounter changed things drastically for him. It wasn’t that he then went on to become a monk in the temple. Au contraire, mon frère. He lived his “normal” life doing whatever it was he was doing but this was extra, bonus, the cherry on top that he could use in his daily life for his own benefit but also for the benefit of those from the past and those from the future.
Hey there! Hi! Hey, it’s me! Bradley. Can you believe this stuff? Why don’t I just wake up, have cereal, walk the dog, and write books? Why do I do this stuff? Why meditate, why past life regressions? I mean, seriously? Sam from Thailand and his sister and back in forth in time but, oh wait, there is no time? Seriously? I mean…dude.
But then again, this is exactly it.
The present moment, the current day, what is it today? Tuesday. Books, summits, kids, dogs, forests, travel. It’s all great. It’s awesome. No, really.
So why go here? Or, well, there?
What if it’s all just my imagination and I just have a really vivid imagination and there is no past life, no back in time or forward in time, and it’s like I’m watching a movie and I’m making the movie and I’m just in my bathroom with an eyemask and headphones and going nowhere?
Yeah, I guess there’s that.
Why not? What if it is “real”? Or let’s forget what’s real and not real for a minute. What does it matter what’s real and not real? What about dreams? Those aren’t real in that I can order a burrito in my dream and actually eat it with my body in the present day.
So why bother?
Because what if…
What if there is more? What if all of this stuff I’m “experiencing” is something. Even the slightest sliver of a piece of a part of it. What if we’re more than flesh and bones? What if it’s all around us and, just like a radio and radio waves, we just need to tune into the right channel and we’re connected? What if?
I’m not trying to convince you that I’m right. I’m not even trying to convince me. I’m just the messenger here. I’m just writing down what I experienced. I could write about how I swept the deck yesterday because I finally found the broom so I could get rid of the sand on the deck …. hello? Hello? See, I just put you to sleep–I put me to sleep–by describing that normal, real-life, everyday event.
So what if Sam might be in my imagination.
What if he’s not?
What about that sister? She was so cool, calm and collected. She knew.
Could it be that some people experience this and others just don’t? I was about to write that maybe they can’t but I think we all can, it’s just a question of whether or not we’re open to it.
In other words, we all have a radio. We all know there are radio waves. The question is whether you’re going to turn on the radio and turn the dial and…see what happens.
Maybe you’re just there sweeping your deck.
Maybe you meet Sam and his sister in 1937 Thailand and Sam figures out, on that same day, thanks to you being there, that he has a gift. A gift that, according to his sister, we all have but we just all don’t choose to use.
1. Sweep the deck.
2. Meet Sam in Thailand.
It’s up to you, only you, no one else but you.
It’s your choice.
It’s my choice.
I’m going to Thailand.
Then I can sweep the deck.
To wrap up, a bit like my mom and dad keep telling me, Sam lets me know that he’s there anytime, actually, all the time, and I can come meet him whenever I choose.
But I have to choose.
I have to go meet him.
He might show up in my life.
But, like the radio, I need to tune into the right channel.
Back out of the café, over the little bridge, along the stream, through the meadow, up the stairs, and I’m back in my shower.
Now it’s Tuesday.
That was my morning.
What was yours?
The scene took place on a terrace. It wasn’t clear if it was a café or a temple, maybe something of both. Everything was wood, deep brown wood planks everywhere.