SOMEWHERE IN THE LATE 1990s — after working with the Traveler Consciousness some 20-plus years in MSIA, I’d apparently risen to earn successive initiations, plus a very personal, indescribable, always growing understanding of God, of What Is. In the early 1980s, I’d been in a severe car accident that miraculously blessed me with a “new consciousness,” as J-R had termed it, a fresh, new awareness that seemed to dissolve any residual car-crash pain and instead ramped up my inward contentment and spiritual confidence. While in the fullness of that, I came to realize how trivial the physical realm seems when seen through the lens of a higher consciousness. Fast forward: Years later, while undisciplined dabbling in the world subtly but surely diminished my awareness of this “new consciousness,” I lost track of myself in the context of the Movement. I forgot or overlooked doing spiritual exercises or mysteriously decided they weren’t as important as the worldly, material involvements that gradually seemed to require all my time and attention.
This new trajectory that appeared to fork away from my true path began during a shake-up in MSIA. I never once doubted the Traveler during that troubling phase, yet my own life veered away, uncontrollably, it seemed, without my conscious participation. On some vital level, though, I was the creator of that and of what came afterwards:
A superficially satisfying lifestyle that had been my fervent prayer and deep desire for so much of my adulthood. Finally I had that life, and I reveled in it. But prior to its manifestation, I probably had built up and laid on J-R so much karma with my whining and cravings—which I packaged into maudlin, sticky letters I compulsively wrote and sent him when my troubled mind and emotions overwhelmed me—that I find it quite possible my physical departure from the MSIA family was truly for the highest good of all concerned! In other words, perhaps it was the only spiritual option protecting both J-R and the all the other initiates.
Now whether or not the above is an accurate explanation or just hubris, my ego’s exaggerated rationale, in hindsight (20-20!) I do recognize my main motivation for placing my attention elsewhere. I let a powerful worldly desire take over my intelligence. I wanted to be loved. My own love coupled with the Traveler’s love was somehow insufficient. The allure of negative forces finally seduced me. Of course I wanted to love, too (I knew I could give as well as receive), but wanting and doing are in two different realms. Instead of placing natural, wholesome loving at the forefront of my consciousness, I let my lust and neediness dominate. I wanted to be loved first! I mean closely and intimately and quite humanly loved. I wanted a mate, a partner, a lover, a companion and a confidante. (Yeah, all one person! Was that asking too much?) At the same time, I desired involving work where I could be almost completely independent. Instead of letting the wisdom of my soul and the unexcelled teachings of the Traveler take precedence, I forced the issue by tapping into a driving ambition, solely for my own emotional gratification and to be able to view myself as a competent, independent “success.” Yeah, I wanted others to see me that way, too. Ego!
Most importantly, I felt I deserved the freedom to rationalize my addictions! Fortunately for me and all of you, the Traveler brushes away the clouds. Sometimes He/She/It blasts away the clouds. Still other times, this amazing consciousness “seeds” the clouds until they condense into cold, cleansing rain. While that can be an unexpected shock to the system, at the same time the Traveler will help you become aware that this same rain now making you shake and run can also be used to quench your thirst. Or you can bathe in it; suddenly it’s no longer icy cold, but warm and soothing.
I had built up a thick cloud cover based on believing in, doggedly chasing and placing my focus almost completely on making the lifestyle and circumstances I craved a physical reality. Funny how that works; the final result never matches the dream picture we conjure up so easily. But I came close. I met the man . . . not of my dreams, but the man whose soul connected solidly with mine– based on his unwavering trueness and his heart of soul-deep, spirit-rich loving. It took me approximately a decade to realize this! Meanwhile, I cajoled him and harped at him to become more like the picture I had in my mind. Wisdom and his perfectly understandable aggravation eventually helped me let go of that nasty illusion.
So years went on like this, and though I was periodically chanting and reading discourses, his and my obsession with our mutual occupation—we published a magazine on UFOs— took up more time and energy than we should have allowed. With this came a vulnerability to my own and others’ negativity and what I considered their misapprehension of the spiritual truths I had so long been faithfully absorbing and practicing. Finally I was, by my own assessment, “out of the Movement.” I never really was, of course; J-R was with me through it all. A learning phase which only appeared absent the Traveler was in actuality a great step back into my own truth.
Because of my distance from MSIA and all of the wonderful people in it, I didn’t hear of J-R’s death until weeks after the fact. I took it stoically; after all, I wasn’t there. I wasn’t at all close to the MSIA family, and J-R’s influence on my days and ways, I thought, had waned. Besides that, I always try to understand death as transition, not an ending. I briefly ruminated on his passing, and since my long association with the Movement was a thing of the past, everything appeared to quickly revert back to business as usual. I felt some nostalgia, some regret, but nothing had changed.
Then out of the blue—or the Purple, if you will—something came over me that I’ll have difficulty describing. But for the sake of clarification (mostly my own), I’ll try.
I felt John-Roger take over my mind— conscious and subconscious. As for my emotions, they were inexplicably neutral, except when my ego started doing, uh, some very weird things. Things my mind automatically judged and I dared not tell another soul! Yet I felt embarrassed. Out of nowhere—or somewhere—I was seeing myself as doing his work, and was ashamed of even having such visions. I was getting beautiful flashes of the Traveler inside me. I was feeling a power and confidence unlike any I’d ever experienced, a delicious spiritual force, a positive, benign knowing and power. Perplexed but exhilarated, I did nothing with it other than reflect on it, quietly questioning its meaning. I knew as surely as my breath I couldn’t and shouldn’t do anything with it, other than observe it. To this day I am not certain what was going on. Only the Traveler knows. God knows. I can’t remember if this curious state lasted days or weeks. Doesn’t matter. What this experience did do is pull me resoundingly back into the Traveler’s arms and MSIA’s beautiful, exceptional family. I don’t question it beyond that.
EPILOGUE
I consistently do my SEs. Too often I catch myself inwardly saying, “Um, I have to.” Gradually that’s turning into “I want to,” and “I need to.” I am reading first year discourses, now and then also pulling out and reading one from my huge store of later discourses, treasuring how the words in all of them light up my center and practically scream out, ULTIMATE TRUTHS. LOVING. LOVING. LOVING! The energy lives and breathes me as long as I let it.
My husband has no outward interest in MSIA, but lives his own soul’s course quite compatibly with mine. He turns off the phone when I do SEs. His presence and support, the Traveler’s presence and support, and my growing awareness of God’s everlasting, unending presence, gifts and support are all I need, are all I’ll ever need. Oh, all that and my dogs, too! The lifestyle I once craved has become so much more than I could ask for.
Baruch Bashan? You bet.
Vicki Ecker
