How do I survive the death of my son?

I am so glad you have begun to accept what has happened.

Never allow yourself to mourn.

When you do, it vitally depresses me in this world.

Send us your love―

Send us your happiness―

These we can use in the service of our Father.

But where are you?

What world are you in?

Can you tell me?

I am surrounded by the love and peace of our Father, Chud.

I am in a world that looks pretty much the same as your world, Dad―

Only there are different laws up here.

When I say laws, I do not mean the laws that govern the behaviour of the people here.

I mean the laws that govern thought.

Mike, tell me more about that world.

How do you get there?

Where does it exist?

Dad, everyone comes here through the gates of death.

You have to rearrange your values to appreciate its virtues, though!

While you are still on earth, you determine your own future in this world.

While you are still on earth, your thought―your intentions―everything you do―gives your soul a certain rate of vibration.

For argument's sake, let us suppose your soul is vibrating in a fifty megacycle band.

When you die and manifest here, you would go straight to the part of our world, which vibrates at fifty megacycles.

By the same token, if you are a slow-thinking sort of bloke who can only vibrate to fifteen megacycles, then you will become part of this world in the fifteen megacycle range.

It will all depend on your rate of vibration, see?

Therefore, you yourself select the kind of scenery that will await you when you arrive here.

The worlds above us are even richer in light and happiness.

If I go up there, and I can, I find it too bright―the light hurts my eyes.

And the vibrations are so refined that I cannot respond to them!

So I reverse gear and return to this world, which suits me just fine!

The planes below this one are denser, dimmer places.

If I go down to them, it becomes murkier until it is so creepy that I scoot back here where I belong!

These worlds that you refer to Mike―?

Not so much worlds, Dad, as planes of existence.

Though we have the sun and skies and acres of beautiful flowers here, we do not have rain, as you know it.

Nor is there any blight to destroy the beauty of the trees.

With one big difference, however.

Here, they are all perfect.

There are no high winds to warp and twist them.

There are only gentle breezes.

It is always coolish-warm, if you know what I mean.

My greatest joy here is my sense of perfect freedom.

We can go wherever we like―whenever we feel like it―this world is infinite.

And though everyone you meet on this plane is at the same stage of development as yourself, he is still a rugged individualist in his own right―just as he was on your earth!

Everyone has his own way of looking at things―his own way of speaking his mind!

When you discuss anything here, you always learn something new because the bloke you are talking to has such an original attitude.

As I said, thought is all-powerful here.

For example, if I want to own a brand new Jaguar, all I have to do is visualise the car in my mind, and it is created right there before my eyes, out of the thought-energy of this world!

But you would think twice before doing that because it means having to think in three dimensions!

If I were to visualise the car as it looks in a magazine, that is exactly what I would get!

I need to think in terms of the width of the car―the interior of the car―all the fittings and where each rightly belongs.

But Dad, the minute you think of it correctly, there it is!

The difficulty is to concentrate completely on the whole car, exactly as it exists.

If you are far away from one another, and you want to make contact, telepathy is the accepted thing here.

I merely have to think of the fellow I want to speak to, and bingo! he is right there!

You contact each other as easily as you use the telephone except that you do not need a phone!

If someone wants to talk to you, you first hear him in your mind.

If you want to go to him, you merely exert your will, and in two ticks you are right there!

Takes a bit of getting used to, but it beats TV by a mile!

You see how perfect everything is?

This world is the right one for me at this stage of my development, but as my vibrations become more refined, I shall be able to visit the higher planes with ease.

One day, I may even find that a higher plane suits me better than the one I am in.

We all progress this way.

As we grow in spirit, we ascend to the next plane―

The two processes work hand-in-glove.

When you want to study the law and learn how it operates, you go to the Hall of Logic.

There are many Halls of Knowledge and Wisdom here.

You can go to any university you choose, though the lectures are all very informal―you can discuss the subject with the lecturer, face-to-face.

You can stay all day if you like, except that that could be forever because we have no day and night here!

We can travel from one end of this realm to the other as fast as lightning.

Our bodies never get tired.

Illness and sickness do not exist here.

This is a world of perfection.

Mike, if you are safe in the infinite domain of God, where is Hell?

This was met by a burst of hearty laughter.

Gee, Dad, I am afraid there is no such place!

My Father is a Father of Love and Compassion.

He cannot―He would never permit one of His souls to suffer, and Hell would be a place of suffering.

I guess it only exists where you are now!

Lovingly preserved in aspic by the sanctimonious.

There is a more realistic law in both our worlds that has just as many teeth!

Do not try to identify white until you have learned to identify black―and vice versa―because only then will you know what black and white are!

That is why you mortals were put on earth in the first place, Dad―to learn by trial and error.

But because you will go by the letter of the law instead of the spirit of the law, you keep coming unstuck!

Yet how often have you seen that same law in action, Dad, and sworn by its infallibility?

When you and I used to talk together, you used to call it the law of the boomerang.

But it is not triggered by material cause and effect, it is triggered by the intent in your heart!

For example, suppose you are driving a car too fast, and a little child suddenly rushes out into the road, and you knock her down―by earth law you would be frogmarched off to the nearest jail.

But according to divine law, genuine remorse for having hurt the child can wipe the slate clean.

If you did not cold-bloodedly set out to hurt her, what can you be punished for?

Mind you, I should not use the word punish―the proper term is just desserts.

Who should understand that better than you?

You taught me that as we sow, so shall we reap!

And from where I sit now, I can see that law operating twenty-four hours a day in your best of all worlds!

The only thing that puzzles me is why human beings still persist in denying its existence!

There are no law courts here because everyone of our laws operates within our hearts.

Until we accept the fact that all negative thinking must always end in tears, we continue to create our own suffering.

You would be surprised how quickly I learned that the condition of my heart reflects the world around me!

Now, I would be willing to bet both our shirts Dad that the really real world―the truly true life―is here where I am.

Your mortal world is more in the nature of a kindergarten where you and the other nut visit affliction on each other as a salutary lesson not to do it in the wiser worlds to come!

The basic trouble is that most of you mortals will insist on existing rather than living.

You trip over your frustrations until you can barely stumble from pillar to post.

Why else do you think the eastern races use the lotus as a symbol of spiritual beauty?

The lotus grows in the slime of stagnant swamps, but out of the muck rises the pure white blossom.

Man eventually learns to distinguish beauty and truth from the misery and evil that surround him.

And only from the acceptance of beauty and truth comes the wondrous return to the bosom of the Great One.

I think I am getting a much clearer picture of the laws that operate in your world.

But can you tell me a bit more about yourself?

Well, Dad, there is quite a difference between the me that lives in this world and the me that lived in your world!

My body does not need food―or drink to keep it going―nor does it need sleep to restore it.

When you first arrive here, however, the routines of eating and drinking and sleeping are too firmly established to be eliminated at one fell swoop.

So if you think you need to sleep, well, you lie down on a couch in one of the houses, and you sleep for as long as you want.

If you think you need to eat, then you eat your fill.

There are no excetory organs in our bodies.

For example, when I drink a glass of water, it just diffuses itself throughout my system, and that's that!

In other words, it is converted into energy.

If I see a beautiful apple tree with bright red apples on it, I can reach up and pick one off and swallow it―all it does is to give me a tingling sense of satisfaction!

We have hundreds of trees which bear fruit, and the fruit never drops off―or rots.

It stays crisp and fresh.

When we occasionally feel depressed, and we do Dad―

When the people we left behind are sorrowing for us too intensely, it depresses us up here!

The best way to cheer up is to wander out and pick an apple―or pear―or any other fruit we happen to fancy.

It has the effect of recharging our batteries.

What sort of clothes do you wear, Mike?

Any old thing we choose.

It is simply a matter of concentrating on a particular cut of cloth and, hey presto! we are wearing it!

There is one robe that we could never try to alter―our spirit robe.

When we have public gatherings here―or when we call on one of the higher brethren in the halls of wisdom and learning, we simply discard our personal fashion of the moment, and our spirit robes appear at once.

They hang in classical folds and come in an entire spectrum of glowing colours.

We can never change the colour―or alter the shape of a robe because its function is to reflect the true condition of our spirit.

Suppose, on earth, I had been a man with a violent temper.

My robe here would have splotches of dark, muddy grey―or dirty red shot through with grey.

This proclaims to all and sundry that it is high time the wearer began ridding himself of these blemishes.

Most of us here wear our spirit clothing most of the time―

When we combine this with our gift of telepathy, it is well nigh impossible for anyone to maintain a phoney front and hope to get away with it!

No sooner have I thought a thing, than the person I am talking to hears it.

He knows exactly what is making me tick!

As no dust or grime exists up here, we have no reason to wash our clothes.

Nor do we need dry cleaners.

When we feel that our clothes do not have the shine we would like them to have, we exercise our minds, and the clothes shine as brightly as we deserve.

We have a lot of fun with the teenagers who have just arrived here.

Especially the girls, when they think they are still the cat's whiskers.

Oh Dad, you would laugh to see them pimping around as if they were in a department store, changing out of one set of glad rags to put on another, and then starting again from scratch and dreaming up something even more weird and wonderful!

Which promptly appears, as large as life and twice as natural!

They have the time of their lives for hours!

Jasper was fascinated by the idea of thought manifesting as matter, and he asked Mike to elaborate further.

Well, our Father is the creator of this entire magnificent cosmos and its untold galaxies.

The galaxies are comprised of universal systems, millions and millions in number.

We are the sons of this same Father―

Believe me, we are!

We, too, like Him, must one day become creators, which is why we are allowed to practice when, and however we want to.

This plane where I exist now, like all the nearby planes, is infinite in concept.

We never need to jostle everybody out of the way to grab the best place in the queue.

Some of us like to live in communities―others like to live in rural cottages on the rolling downs―or even alone in the forests.

We are free to choose where we would like to live, and with whom we would like to live.

Our particular place in creation is distinguished by the way it reflects the law of retribution.

When I move down to our lower planes, I see people getting up to the most idiotic shenanigans.

For example, I saw this one bloke surrounded by piles and piles of gold―

He was literally buried under it!

Yet he kept jealously counting every coin.

He did not even pause to look up when I greeted him―

He just grunted and kept on counting.

I thought that this miser was nuts to sit there counting his money as if he could still buy wealth and importance with it.

So I asked one of the elder brothers about him because they are always approachable when we go to them with a problem that is perplexing us.

The elder explained that on earth, this bloke had been an honest-to-goodness miser.

Every night, when all his doors were locked, and his curtains drawn, he used to haul out his gold and count it until he was cross-eyed with fatigue.

When he passed over, he was still the same man he had been on earth, of course, so he got so homesick for the gold he had left behind that finally piles of it appeared all round him!

Thought had become fact, as it always does on this plane.

Well, there the gold was, so he sat down to count it as he had never counted it before.

Then he discovered that just by thinking, he could turn it into twice the size it was before.

He must have been sitting there for over thirty years of earth time, just multiplying his wealth.

And he will be perfectly happy doing just that until he eventually realises that gold is utterly useless to him here.

We have no wealth―or poverty here.

And so it will finally dawn on him that he has been wasting his time.

And no one will regret it more than the poor old bloke himself!

And there was this other fellow who had been a drunkard all his earthly life―

When he passed over there, he began with a rabid desire to drink a whole case of good brandy.

So, lo and behold, a case of brandy appeared under his nose!

He pried open the lid, grabbed the nearest bottle by its neck and drank it at one gulp.

It tasted exactly like it had on earth, but here comes the snag, Dad―

He could not get drunk!

But because his mind was now one with its creator, it refused to make itself drunk!

Drink had only been an alibi on earth―a device to avoid facing reality―so when he drank to avoid facing reality here, he realised at long last that no matter how much booze he poured down his gullet, it had left him stone cold sober!

What worse punishment could befall a miser―or a drunk who had abused the fruits of the earth?

But the beauty is that they themselves determined their own punishments.

There is no Great Judge presiding over us here, handing out dry bread and water and solitary confinement!

When a new soul comes to us there is no vindictive confessor who says―

You have been good, go to Heaven!

You have been bad, go to Hell! and then hurls you into the fiery pit anyway!

Again, I tell you that our Father is one of infinite love and compassion.

Any punishment brought about in your world, but accountable in ours is paid for solely by the transgressor himself.

Conservation of energy is a prime law here.

That really means moderation.

We learn to be moderate in all things.

The miser allowed his sense of balance to turn turtle because he lusted for gold and nothing, but gold.

The drunkard was so afraid to face life that he drank himself into insensibility, instead of using his alcohol as a reasonable pick-me-up at the end of a hard day's work.

Jasper asked Mike how he occupied himself in the Golden World in view of the fact that he had set his heart on architecture in his earth-life.

Did architecture come into the picture at all?

You can bet your boots!

Once a fellow reaches this stage in his development, he is bound to apply critical taste to the kind of place he wants to live in.

As soon as I arrived here, I was shown the sights by Uncle Mark.

People who practiced architecture on earth because they loved the profession, like Uncle Mark did, inevitably seek out their own kind and put out the "business as usual" sign here.

When a new boy like me is ready to shop for a home of his own, he "makes his number" with these architectural types, and we all sit down and discuss what kind of house would suit me best.

Remember, we never have rain―or bad weather, so there are no wear-and-tear problems.

As a matter of fact, there is no need for a house at all! but if you want a house, you sort of pick and choose until gradually you decide on such-and-such a house with so many rooms.

If you want ten thousand rooms, you can have ten thousand rooms, though it seems a bit unnecessary.

It would be a great big echoing white elephant, in case you had not banked on that!

At any rate, as soon as you have decided on the kind of house you want, you look for the perfect site.

There are valleys, mountains, rivers, even oceans in our world―so you start cruising about a hundred and fifty feet above the ground at a fair speed, say two hundred miles an hour until you find the spot that tickles your fancy.

I wanted mine to be somewhere near a congenial community, and I saw exactly what the doctor ordered.

It was perched on a gentle slope, protected by beautiful trees and springy green turf.

The grass grows to about three inches high here, and it is beautifully soft to walk on.

It never needs cutting―it never withers―it always remains this beautiful emerald green.

Once I had picked my site, I called in the architects.

They sat down and visualised in their minds the type of house that would suit me best.

Then the builders arrived.

There were three of them, and they sat down right beside the architects.

A minute later, right there on the plot I had selected, the shimmering outlines of my house began to appear!

Then everybody looked at me, and Mark said―

Well, Mike, is that more or less what you had in mind?

I cannot tell you how exciting it felt to be a bona fide home owner!

I hollered back―

You bet it is!

At once, the transparent shell started to take on solid form.

In twenty minutes, there was my house!

It is perfect in every detail, Dad!

Somehow―or other, the various bods had read my mind―every trick of the trade I had ever envied from afar has been incorporated into this brand new home of mine.

I took possession that very same hour and sent out mental invitations to all my friends to attend the housewarming.

In no time flat, they were all there in person, and I welcomed each one at my own front door!

The first item on the agenda was to ask one of the elders to join us.

We sat round him in a circle and conveyed our gratitude and joy to the Great One.

After which, we had a pop concert!

Yes Dad!

We used every kind of music―

You know how fond of rock 'n roll I used to be on earth―

Well, we soon had a full-scale orchestra going strong, and we really did ourselves proud!

It was a fantastic housewarming!

It soon became obvious that the house was not big enough to hold us all, so I sent out an S.O.S. to the original architects.

And as soon as we all put our heads together in a sit-down-and-think session, lo and behold, the house was increased to the exact capacity we needed!

Believe me Dad, this universal sharing of everything has to be seen to be believed.

There is no envy―there is no greed―there is no You' have got more than I have because the minute you want anything, it is there!

You remember how I loved to walk in the rain in nothing but a singlet and a pair of shorts when I was a nipper?

Well, whenever I need to feel the refreshing rain beating in my face, and the wind blowing my head clear, I go out into an open field and I think―

I enjoy my own private thunderstorm!

It does not interfere with anybody else―I take good care that it does not―we make a point of live and let live on this plane!

The rain forms little puddles as I walk, yet when I turn round and look behind me, there is no sign of it―only the usual long green grass.

It takes some getting used to―the fact that the mind is a creative weapon.

I used the wrong word there―

Not weapon.

Instrument is a much nicer way of saying it.

But Mike, what are you allowed to do if any of your neighbours turn out to be neither kind nor considerate?"

That could not happen here.

We are all at the same stage of development.

If one of us were to disturb the harmony, even if unintentionally, one of the elders would nip along smartly and nudge him back into line.

Sometimes, the best of us are apt to slip up, of course.

That is when the elders point out the error of our ways, and we correct ourselves at once.

It is so serene here that one is immediately remorseful for having been the "odd man out;" and the remorse immediately rights the wrong.

No one is ever punished in this world.

A man punishes himself if he has broken the rules of happy living.

There is one very foolish method of coming here―

By suicide.

This is a futile action for all concerned.

When someone on the earth-plane feels so restricted―so cramped―so frightened―that he sees no solution to it―

When, in fact, he can no longer face up to the day-to-day burdens that confront everyone else in your world―

He thinks that committing suicide will be an easy way out, and will punish his “tormentors” at the same time.

When his soul comes here, it is immediately placed in a state of rest until the jangling dislocations of the suicide have subsided.

Then he is immediately sent back to earth to inhabit a new body.

Once again, he finds himself a mortal man, but he retains no recollection of his previous history.

What is more―

In this succeeding life of his, he is going to be confronted by exactly the same problems.

If he fails a second time, the same process will occur―continue to occur―until he learns to face his problems rather than escape them.

Throughout, he will be surrounded by the love of the Great One, and guarded by his brothers, but he must solve his problem without any aid from anyone.

Once he has faced it―solved it―there is no further danger of him committing suicide.

At the same time, he is developing the strength of mind that he will need when he eventually learns to be a creator, as his Great Father was before him.

So, if you want a frustrating round trip ticket up to our world and right back down to yours again, Dad, commit suicide!

It will get you nowhere fast!

Originally, when our souls first took on the forms of men, we were still sons of God―

With His divine sanction, you chose for yourself how you wanted to look―how you would develop.

All divine law is predicated on this freedom of choice.

You decide, Dad.

You yourself decide what you are going to do.

If it conflicts with any of the divine rules, then you have to correct your error.

Remember the miser and the drunkard when they came over here?

They punished themselves very, very effectively!

Yet no one sat in judgment on them.

No one decreed any punishment―or penalty.

That is because―I reiterate it―these worlds are created of love, Dad―the infinite love of the Great One.

As you pray to Him, a blue shaft of light goes up to the heavens, then it turns to gold, and His Infinite Peace flows down it to surround you.

When ‘men of the cloth’ get up here, oh Dad, it is terrible to watch their self-recrimination and soul-searching when they realise what they taught on earth was too often wide of the mark, even though they merely taught on earth what they themselves had been taught.

They need all our help and comfort as they battle against terrifying images of devils and hell fire, which in truth do not exist here―or anywhere else!

But there are on the lower planes souls who need the security of a church and the advice of a minister before their faith can take articulate form.

They attend beautiful cathedrals and listen avidly to all the sermons.

But the only ritual they hear here is the true litany!

When Heather last talked to you, she told you about the kitten that adopted her when she came here.

Now she has a dog.

There is every kind of tame animal and bird in these realms―proof once again of the law of love!

When you create a bond with an animal on the earth-plane that bond is powerful enough to bring him here when he dies.

He is cared for until his master passes over to our plane.

When animals arrive here, it is wonderful to see them gambolling with one another―lions and tigers alongside tabby cats―why, some Burmese mahouts even bring their elephants with them!

All of them survive the journey because of the love and care showered on them by everybody here.

You hear birds singing wherever you go.

If I happen to admire their song, they immediately respond to my thought―they will perch on my finger and show off their colours and their musical range!

You never cease to marvel at the infinite variety of happiness on these planes, Dad.

When I first arrived here, I felt no sudden jar at my passing.

As I told you, we were lifted in the air, and I took Heather’s hand, and together we saw the cars collide.

Then Uncle Mark was suddenly standing beside us.

He explained that we had been through such a terrible collision that we were no longer in the land of the living.

I was too surprised to ask him how he knew, although I did have a hunch I was dead, and it seemed perfectly natural that he had come to take charge of us.

I decided that Heather and I could not do better than go along with him―so we did.

It was simply a question of ascending gradually into the sky until all of a sudden we were in this beautiful pasture.

I cannot say exactly how long it took us to leave the earth plane.

It was rather much like flipping a radio dial from one station to another.

When you turn the knob, you take for granted that another station will be awaiting your pleasure―you do not think there is anything unusual about it.

That was how we moved from your world to our new one.

All our family, even the ones we did not know when we were on the earth were here to welcome us.

They made us feel wanted, and very much at home!

That is why I took so long to realise that the news of our death would not be accepted by you, as it was on this plane.

It was only then, Dad, that I could actually feel the terrible pull of the grief that you and Mum were suffering.

You remember when you wanted to punish the driver of the other car?

When I felt that terrible resolve hardening itself in your heart, I knew I had to return and make myself known to you.

Nothing else would have altered your stubborn determination to revenge our deaths.

Before you could raise yourself up to this plane, you would have to raise your vibrations to the speed of mine.

Likewise, when I need to regress myself back to your world, I have to reduce my vibrations to their slowest rate.

This is not easy Dad―some of it is downright painful.

It is like putting on a straitjacket.

I have to constrict myself more and more like the Rabbit in Alice in Wonderland until my vibrations are moving as slowly as yours.

Not that I am trying to blow my own trumpet, you understand, but I am one of the few here who have been able to manage it.

I can move from my world to yours by my own free will.

Heather can do it too now.

But I would say that ninety-five per cent of the souls at this level are completely unable to manifest at the earth-level.

Maybe in moments of urgency, they can appear momentarily to their loved ones on earth, but they would not promise to guarantee it.

Perhaps the most important message we can send you from here―if you can get it across for me―is that grieving, weeping and wishing for the soul of the departed to return are the worst things that you people can do to someone who has just died.

You see, wherever there is a bond of love, there is an unbroken line of communication.

When you grieve for someone you love, your sorrow is immediately transmitted to the spirit-life in its new world―a most beautiful world―but it cannot come back to the earth-plane to comfort its mourners.

You have not had time to master the art of slowing down your vibrations until you can see him―or hear him.

This puts you in a hell of a quandary―you are torn between a desire to comfort your loved ones, knowing it to be impossible, and a need to adjust yourself to your bright new surroundings.

So please, Dad, tell those who are still on earth not to grieve for those of us who have come over here.

I know it is impossible to ask them to rejoice, yet we on this side rejoice when the soul of an old friend comes here.

I would ask the bereaved to sit and think of their loved ones instead of themselves.

They will soon forget their own sorrows.

Tell them, please, just to send their love and kindly thoughts for a calm journey and a happy arrival, for the friend they have lost is already secure in this world of warmth and happiness.

Send wave upon wave of love.

This will help the newly dead to stabilise because it convinces them of the validity of both spheres of existence.

This is perhaps the most important thing I want you to put into this book.