Aug 032001

Cynthia Sue Larson visited power to share and introduced us to reality shifts.

Rupert Sheldrake, Ph.D. too is linked to Stan’s site. He has written a number of books that I like to add to my library.

Rupert lives in London. Cynthia sees him in Santa Rosa, California, when he visits to promote his book ‘Dogs Know when their Owners are Coming Home’. Rupert is a fellow of the Institute of Noetic Sciences. In July 2000 he was the visiting scholar at the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution in Massachusetts (The dolphin connection?).

I live in Bombay. He was Principle Plant Physiologist at the International Crop Research in Hyderabad, and spent a year and a half in an ashram in South India.

All these strange threads seem to fit into Sheldrake’s concept of morphic fields. Nature is organized in a series of levels, in which higher levels incorporate lower levels. There are organizing fields for everything we observe. There are crystal fields for crystals. There are tissue fields for tissue, society fields for society. The latter make it perfectly normal for Cynthia and Rupert to occupy the same room, space, sphere, morphic field or whatever.

There seems to be a personal message for me here. Leave it alone! You cannot change the world, nor uplift the masses, nor settle the squatters. Be satisfied with feeding those who depend on you directly and empower them to feed those who depend on them.

Forget the heavy stuff and add to Sheldrake’s wonders. Dogs and cats, he says, know when their owners are coming home, from the very moment the people make the decision to come home, even when it is at an unusual time and by a different mode of transport. I am not surprised. When we went out, our cocker spaniel knew whether it was to a place where we could take her (like a friend’s home for dinner) or a more formal occasion. If we said sorry, you can’t come, she understood perfectly and saw us off nicely. But if we did not take her along when we could have done, she would first try to make us change our minds, and then slink away to her basket before we even reached the front door. There would be no one to welcome us home. This dog really knew how to sulk. The worst we could do was to come home, smelling of another dog.