THE MULE
Chapter 32
‘Peter.’
……….
‘Peter, please?’
…………
‘Peter?’
Jesus!
‘Peter?’
‘Yes.’
‘Peter! What’s really important now is that it worked! You did it! You’re perfectly healthy! All the tests came back negative! Not one sign of any cancer at all! Anywhere!’
I knew that. I could see that. And I could feel that.
‘Peter, please!’
‘How did I do it?’
‘Oh, Peter! Your theory revolved around healing your Integral natural soul, or getting it to heal the natural sovereign integral whole of you, by way of your subconscious, and then a natural fusion with your superconscious mind, or soul mind-tap, or collective One fluid conscious situational awareness mind. Derek was the one who helped you most. I just helped him, by doing everything you told me to do. He did, too.’
‘But how did I arrange this miracle?’
‘You believed that cleansing your whole natural Integral being of all sickness would be a process of introducing your subconscious mind to your superconscious mind or higher self… or… your Sovereign Integral – who you always felt and believed and taught us you were or could be.
Sovereign Integral? My, Sovereign Integral? Me? My own Sovereign Integral. Who I am?
‘You wrote out all the scripts for Derek to use. You believed your superconscious mind level was perfect and that accessing or tapping or natural fusion into this level would result in the raising of the fluid energy level of your subconscious mind and subsequently, your overall immune systems, making it healthier than it had been in the first place.’
I felt flat-interested, but flat. Seven long years. Jesus.
‘Peter?’
‘Yes.’
‘You believed that your therapy would be accomplished through tapping into your superconscious mind. The first step was through hypnosis to improve your self-image. Then your theory was to help establish a sound and strong psychological foundation from which your higher fluid consciousness or soul could more fully understand your purpose and make strides toward fulfilling that purpose, which was to rid your mind and body of all knowledge of your sickness ever having existed.’
That made sense.
‘Most of your theory about the therapy, you expected to take place at night, during the dream level when you entered REM, a characteristic of the dream state, for three hours each night.
I knew what REM was, what LERM was, and what TERM was. I knew the trance states of Alpha, Beta, Coma, Delta, Theta, and many unknown others. She didn’t, or hadn’t, yet.
‘You figured that since the main defence mechanisms of your willpower and your logical analytical mind couldn’t function, once you entered the deep nervous system sleep cycle, that this would be the most efficient cleansing opportunity to remove your cancers, through removing any memory of their existence from your subconscious mind itself, but with the aid of your superconscious mind or soul, or whole interactive, integrated Integral Self.’
Sounded too deep and meaningful to me, but I understood the basic principle.
‘Peter?’
‘I’m here?’
‘You told us it would be during that chosen trance state, that the emotional cleansing necessary for your survival would occur, and that deeper energy cleansing, as a survival function, wouldn’t occur, unless you were trained for it, and we weren’t. That’s why you left us your private research and development scripts to use on your whole interactive, integrated Integral mind.
Jesus. … Deep.
You believed that approximately one hour of the deepest REM cycle possible for you, at the time, before you reached Integral level trance state and carried on, would be necessary to cleanse the Beta, Alpha, and Theta levels of your subconscious mind; and since each minute in hypnosis was equivalent to three of our earth minutes, hours of therapeutic soul-energy cleansing would actually be experienced, in each subsequent small hypnosis session, before moving on to the chosen trance state you felt you needed to go to.’
I said that? Jesus!
‘Peter?’
‘Yes.’
‘Peter. You believed that this therapy would be the quickest because it would be so short. With your own past experiential written patient-session script-knowledge files, Derek trained your whole mind, after that first session, where you lost your memory of who we were and who you were. And he did it, exactly according to your instructions. He trained your whole interactive, integrated, Integral mind in seven sessions, to be totally independent of he and I, as your Causal Analysts and Hypnotherapists, so you could attain any goal at all, in your chosen deeper trance state; which was the removal of your knowledge absolute, that your spirit, your mind, your emotions and your body ever had been sick, at any time.’
It sounded like a good theory and an even wilder story. I wondered how I arrived at the idea in the first place?
‘Peter. Through your own experiential patient-file learned knowledge scripts, which you left for us, as a guide initially, your superconscious whole fluid Integral mind was addressed and used by itself to assist in attaining your goal, over time, as you went about your daily routine, not aware of anything. We just didn’t know how much time it would take.’
Seven bloody years. That’s how much time it took. The quiet unknowing achiever. My whole mind.
‘You believed your superconscious mind and interactive Integral mind would work on and then naturally fuse with your whole natural fluid mind; all seven levels of your mind, at once; your mental conscious conditioned thinking mind, your unemotional feeling mind, and your physical mind were the first three levels of situational awareness accessed by and through your subconscious and superconscious minds, but, at once.’
Amazing. I believed that?
‘Peter?’
‘Yes. I’m here.’
‘Oh, Peter! It doesn’t matter how you did it! You did it! That’s what’s important! You did it!’
‘Seven years.’
‘Peter, it doesn’t matter about the seven years! You’re alive! You’re healthy! And you’re going to live a long time!’
That was a point. A seemingly weak one, compared to seven missing years, but it was a point.
‘Peter. Derek and I didn’t realise just how completely your memory had been erased, until the last session. We didn’t know what to do! You didn’t know us! You didn’t know me! You didn’t know that you were the head of this organisation… not us. You didn’t know you were and had always been, let alone what you’d done, all of your working life!’
I still didn’t. And I still felt flat.
‘Peter?’
‘I’m here.’
‘Derek decided, or we both did, in the end, that we’d give you a whole new identity -one that did not have any of your previous life in it, just in case it proved to be a negative to your theory of removing the cancers from everywhere in your mind. We spent a lot of hours reinventing you, such that you would still be able to pursue causal analysis research and development, hypnotic whole-mind level fusion research and development, and natural evolutional therapy research and development. Derek and I both contributed there, but I could only input everything you had taught me in the first place.’
Jesus.
‘Peter?
‘Yes. I’m here.’ Wherever here was.
‘Peter, I helped Derek give you a history that was reasonably true, except that… that it didn’t have me in it, or the organisation or people who worked for you, but it was still orientated around causal analysis, hypnosis, research and development, and therapeutic intervention measures. We didn’t know what would happen. We just hoped your theory would work and we knew that it could take time. We just never knew how much time.’
Seven years, worth. I felt flat.
‘We set you up in your office and gave your critical factor conscious thinking mind-memory conditioning our initial client base, with our unknown-to-you, ‘‘mules. Once you got started, you. You soon had found some of your own, like you always did. You continued and didn’t need our ‘mules, any longer, but we sent them anyway, so we could keep an eye on you.’
‘Several of our ‘mules were doctors and psychologists. They were asked to appraise your state while you were with them in therapy. Their reports to us were always encouraging, such that we felt it was best to let time and your theory do all of its work, and then hoped for the best. After seven years, though, it wasn’t enough. We felt your theory had worked, but we needed to be sure. That it worked was all that mattered. I just needed to be sure.’
I felt flat. I felt sad, and I felt flat. Seven years, from there to here, wherever here was.
‘Peter?’
………..
…………
‘Peter!, Please, baby!’
‘Tina?’
‘Yes, Peter! Yes?’
‘Where am I… right now?’
‘You’re in a hospital, baby. You almost drowned and then went into acute and deep shock. They didn’t understand what you were going through, mentally, I guess, what with the near drowning, as well as everything else that was and had been coming to light, of late, at that time, within your Integral Fluid Intelligence research and developmental situational awareness. We didn’t know if there would be still parts of your past life you might be able to remember. We didn’t know what was going through your mind.’
A big club. Me, neither.
‘What’s wrong with me? Why am I still in hospital?’
‘You…You… Peter… you seem to have suffered a shocked still unknown comatose state. They can’t awaken you. Nothing seems to be wrong except, they can’t… the doctors can’t get you… to regain consciousness.’
I wondered dryly then how she could talk to me, if I was unconscious and in a still-unheard-of coma state. It interested me.
‘Peter. I can talk to you and you can hear me because I’m in comatose trance state with you… an extremely unusual deep trance. Derek helped me with the knowledge he’d gained from the use of your notes, when he worked with you.’
Amazing.
‘Are you in a coma, too?’
‘No. I’ve been tranced down to this level, but I can’t see anything. I just kept going down and down, calling your name. I seem to be only able to sensate-feel and hear. I can’t feel, emotionally. No images or anything are coming to me at all-only your situational awareness of me being right here and right now. We didn’t know if I could be made go deeply enough to reach you. Oh, baby! We’ve been trying for so long. I’ve been so worried! I didn’t want to lose you… again.’
Sad and flat. I felt sad and flat again. Seven bloody years. Jesus!
‘Peter?’
………
……….
‘Peter! Please, baby! Please!’
‘I’m here. It’s okay.’
‘I know what a shock this must all be to you! But it’s okay now! You’re healthy! You did it!’
Shock? Biblical revelation would be more bloody like it. Jesus!
‘Why can’t I wake up?’
‘We don’t know! Nothing’s wrong that they can find, at least, medically speaking.’
‘Shake me or something.’
‘They have! Oh, baby. They’ve tried drugs, smelling salts, and all sorts of things. You just won’t wake up. Will you try? Please! Will you try?’
Who wanted to sleep for the rest of their lives—non-person or not?
‘Okay.’
I opened my eyes, slowly, cautiously, waiting to see her face, probably blurred, at first, but at least, there. All I could see was the beautiful brilliance of the flashes of my own living, breathing mind.
‘Peter?’
‘I’m trying. Are my eyes open?’
‘Wait. I’ll feel your face. I don’t want to risk losing this level trance.’
I really forced my eyes open, waiting for her touch on my face. Nothing. I felt nothing.
‘No. They’re closed. Oh, Peter! Please try!’
Jesus!
‘I am!’
‘It’s okay. It’s okay. Try again.’
‘Are my eyebrows moving?’
……………
‘No, baby, but it’s okay.’
Like bloody hell it was okay! If I didn’t want to stay in a coma, I wasn’t going to stay in a bloody coma! Then I suddenly had a humorous thought.
‘Tina?’
‘Yes, baby.’
‘Did I always swear, before… before…you know?’
‘No, baby. You didn’t. You said it was bad manners to swear, especially in front of females. I think that was Derek’s doing. He always thought you were a bit of a stuffed shirt. He said he’d helped you to become more human.’
Jesus! Even my curse words were not of my own making. I wondered then if I’d ever liked Derek… before.
‘He was your best friend, Peter, and the best man at our wedding. You grew up together.’
Jesus. He was the best friend you’re having when you don’t know you’re having one.
‘Tina.’
‘Yes, baby.’
‘Tina, I want to wake up!’
‘I know, baby! I know that, now. But I don’t know what to do! I’m sorry! I feel so helpless! Oh, Peter! What can I do? What can I do?’
Jesus! How the hell did I know? I open my eyes and nothing happens. I raise my eyebrows and nothing happens. How the hell do I know what to do?
‘It’s okay, baby! It’s okay. Don’t worry.’
Don’t worry? Don’t bloody worry? Jesus!
‘Feel my eyes again! Feel my eyes! My eyebrows! My face!’
I tried to contort every muscle in my face, but all I could see was my beautiful integrated and interactive Fluid Integral mind. God, it was so beautiful. I couldn’t think of a better way to describe it—me… beautiful!
‘You are beautiful, Peter! You are beautiful, to me. You always have been, baby! You always have been. I love you so much! So much, baby! So much’’
Nothing worked. Nothing was wrong, but nothing was working. As much as I had grown to love my beautiful whole Integral mind, I had better things to do, with whatever life I had left, than to watch the fourth of bloody July through to eternity, while lying comatose in a hospital bloody bed. I’d wasted enough time already, or lost it, or bloody well forgotten it. Jesus!
I moved my arms and legs and sat up and looked around, only I didn’t, and all I could see was the magnificent beauty of my own fluid situationally aware mind flashing away its perfect brilliance at me; it’s perfect wholeness… flashing and twinkling… at me.
Jesus! Nothing worked! Nothing bloody worked! A mental activist and a physical vegetable!
Jesus!
Then fear and panic set in. I suddenly, but, gently felt those two emotions, in their fullest, natural arrival, inside my brilliant flashing fluid-mind. The flashes increased. The colour changed. It was blinding me. I was blinding me, with my own fear, my own panic, and my own end.
Was this the way it would all end? I miraculously remove cancers from my mind and body, only to be trapped inside the beauty of my own whole fluid Integral mind… for eternity?
Jesus! Jesus!
Like bloody hell!
‘Peter! Peter! It’s okay! It’s okay, baby! Please!’
I didn’t want to be there anymore! I didn’t! But nothing was working! I began to thrash my body, my arms my legs, my neck and shoulders… anything!
‘Peter, please! Please, baby! Oh, please! We’ll think of someth…’
I didn’t have eternity to bloody wait. Jesus! What a fate for such a perfect beautiful mind! What a bloody fate for such a perfect and whole fluid-integrated and interactive Integral mind! How could I ever stay like this? How could I have such a beautiful whole perfect bloody mind and stay like this?
Jesus!
‘Tina!’ I panicked. ‘Tina! TINA! TINA! TIIIIIIIIIIIINNAAAAAAA!’
……………..
‘TIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNAAAAAAA!’
……………..
……………
Music? I could hear music? While I went bloody insane?
…………
…………..
Singing and music? The flashes were changing in my mind. The colours were even more beautiful, more whole, and more perfect. Singing and music? Tina? She was singing? Her voice?
I strained to listen! I yearned to listen! I needed to listen; for I was surely going out of my beautiful bloody mind, at that very moment.
…………..
………….
The words. Words and melody. Melody and words. The singing. Tina. Singing to me. She was singing to me, for Christ’s sake. Oh, Jesus, yes! I strained my very spiritual essence to listen!
‘How could anyone ev… er tell you,’
I listened.
‘you were anything less… than beautiful.’
I heard.
‘How could anyone ev.. er tell you,’
I felt.
‘you were less… than… whole.’
I experienced.
‘How could anyone fail… to notice,’
I heartened.
‘that your lov-ing is… a miracle.’
I saddened.
‘How dee-ply you’re… connect-ed to my soul.’
I cried.
‘How could anyone ever…er tell you,’
I angered.
‘you were anything less… than beautiful.’
I felt.
‘How could anyone ev.. er tell you,’
I angered.
‘you were less… than… whole.’
I saddened.
‘How could anyone fail… to notice,’
I noticed.
‘that your lov-ing is… a miracle.’
I angered.
‘How dee-ply you’re… connect-ed to my soul.’
I cried again, but with tears of rage for a life lost, a love lost, friends lost, a marriage lost. I cried for knowledge found at the cost of despair, sadness and loneliness while Tina kept singing those same words, over and over, again, and my rage and my tears grew.
And still she kept singing.
What sort of a bloody God did I have? Who could let me see the sheer majesty, the magnificent beauty of my own Sovereign Integral fluid situational awareness mind, yet, put Tina and I through so much bloody hell?’
And still she kept singing those words-those beautiful wonderful loving words. What sort of a bloody soul did I have? Jesus!
And my rage grew. My hatred grew. My pain grew. The pain of loss we’d both have to suffer, all over again, only for longer this time—forever! Jesus!
And still she kept singing, over and over those words. Those words over and over.
‘You were anything less… than beautiful.’
I felt and I yelled and I shouted and I cried. And on she sang.
‘Your lov-ing is… a miracle.’
I twisted and I struggled and I fought and I cried.
‘How dee-ply you’re… connect-ed to my soul.’
My soul? My bloody soul? Why did my soul want this? I didn’t want this! I didn’t want this! I wanted Tina! I wanted my life! Back! Any bloody life, as long as Tina was in it with me! As long as I was in it!
‘anyone fail… to notice,’
My soul! My mind! My life! And my bloody Tina!
‘you were less… than… whole.’
I was whole! I bloody was! Perfect whole mind! Perfect whole body! I was whole!
‘anything less… than beautiful.’
I was beautiful! My mind was beautiful! And my body was beautiful!
‘….anyone fail… to notice,’
I noticed! I noticed! I was whole. I was perfect! And I was bloody healthy! And no bloody coma from god or my soul or my spirit or the bloody devil was going to bloody-well keep me somewhere I didn’t want to be!
‘You were anything… less… than beautiful.’
‘NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!’
‘Peter!’
‘NNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!’
‘PETER!’
‘NNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!
‘PETER! BABY! Your TEARS! I can feel your TEARS!’
Bloody tears wouldn’t be all she’d bloody-well feel!
‘BABY! OOOHHHH, BAAABBYYYY! Your EYES!’
‘NNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!’
‘PETERRRR! OH, PETERR! Your EYES are MOVING! They’re MOVING!
Bloody oath they’re moving! ‘I’ run my bloody life! Whether I can remember it or bloody not! Not my mind! Not my emotions! Not my bloody thoughts! And not my bloody subconscious mind! I did! My whole mind! I bloody did! And whoever ‘I’ bloody was, I was not staying in this bloody coma or in this bloody hospital bed for God or anybody else!
‘PETERRR! OOHH, DARLING! OH, BABY! YES! YES! YES! YES!’
My bloody oath, yes! For better or bloody worse, I had a life! And I wasn’t giving it up, again!
‘PETER! YES!’
Her touch! I felt her touch! On my face! Soft and warm! Her face! Blurry, but I could see her! Tina! Tina!
‘TIIIIINNNNA!’
‘PETER! YES! Oh, BABY! YES! It’s ME! It’s ME!’
Why was she shouting? I blinked and I blinked and I saw and I saw and I felt and I felt, and then I bloody cried and didn’t bloody care! This was ‘my’ bloody life and I bloody well claim it! And I claim her!
‘YOUUUU!’ I screamed crying with my own voice. ‘YOUUU! I CLAIM you! I bloody CLAIM you! You’re MINE! MINE! MY life! MY Tina! I bloody LOVE you! I LOVE you! I LOVE you! ALWAYS, Tina! ALWAYS, and in ALL BLOODY WAYS!’
‘Oh, PETER! BABY! Oooooooooooohhhhh!’
Fully awake then I was and I cried. We cried… together… for a very, long, time…the rest of our lives, in fact. But now we had one… a life… together… together, again … for the very first time.
Jesus!