Distance Lends Enchantment: Why I Stay Away from “New Age” – Part One

Here I am with my traditional primary physician, Pak Mangku, the clairvoyant guy with the power rings. I cannot explain how he does it.

November, 2021. Important: I apologize in advance for anyone who is offended by anything in this post. It is not my intent to offend anyone. I have learned that discretion, is indeed, the better part of valor; but I also have also learned that I have to keep it real: “It” meaning, my life.

I had two different readers write to me how they liked my stuff. Yet, both wrote that they themselves do not follow my New Age beliefs. The first message I sniffed at, and ignored. I read the second comment on a leisurely Saturday morning while shuffling through the pages of the New York Times. I glanced at this message, bolted upright in bed, and yelled: “Hell NO!” I jumped out of bed and started writing this diatribe (nasty reply.) I hate New Age. I can not go into all the ways of how some — BUT NOT ALL — truly dedicated New Age adherents are so friggin’ stupid. Makes me want to puke. I am ashamed to be a white man. 

Now, my travelogues and stories often have the veneer of New Ageism. I write about spirituals quests, ecstatic moments, other-worldly experiences, and so on. Do I dabble in some New Age type stuff? Yes, but only on the periphery. I can understand why some people think I am some sort of Cone Head. Yet, here the truth and this can not be a big surprise: My travelogues and stories have a fair amount of hyperbole, hyperventilating and just glib gibberish. Did I really shed a few tears as I write at numerous temples and monuments and, for example, meeting the pygmies? A few times, yeah. I seriously cried, for example, when I met the pygmies and saw the Taj Mahal (two different trips). Did I cry as much and often as I write about? — not really. Do I really meet God when I have these religious experiences? It depends how you define “God.”

I do believe there is something in the supernatural or paranormal beyond the realm of the five senses. Gross, in the real meaning of the word, human consciousness has stunning, hidden capacities beyond our ken. Thus, a lot of otherworldly stuff does not require alien intervention or other extra-worldly explanation. I am open to exploring all of these experiences on the edge of human consciousness.  However, I am very focused on debunking the pukadelic nonsense of the New Age. It is a balancing act; appreciate, but be skeptical. Below are examples of where I draw lines and where I create a circle of trust. The list below is subjective; based on my mind, heart and gut. Your list may be different. Watch this:

Sedona, AZ has a unique power-vortex? Eye roll and sigh.

Alien abduction? See above response.

Out of body experience? Possible. Sure.

Near death experience with lights? So many reports: okay.

Astrology? Doubtful, but maybe, just maybe.
 
Reincarnation? Way beyond my pay grade to understand.

Telepathy? Absolutely yes; but experience is mixed.

Clairvoyance? See above answer.

Now, does Sedona have some special “energy”? Maybe. However, that same power is also available throughout the sacred mountains and rock pinnacles of the Four Corners area (where N.M. AZ. CO. and Utah converge). Plug in your orgone collector though out north east Arizona, and south Utah, and heck, all of New Mexico and large parts of Colorado. You will collect the same “energy”

My credentials to make this claim? I spent twenty years periodically criss-crossing the Four Corners on a regular basis, often seeking out authentic Native American related experiences or other spiritual adventures. In addition, for three years, I lived on the Navajo Indian Reservation in Window Rock AZ, not that far from the Grand Canyon. I also lived in Colorado for two years and travelled throughout the state. I have experienced the true, grounded “energy” that exists throughout the Four Corners.

Personal Experiences I Can Not Explain by the Five Senses

Here are just some of my experiences that I can not explain. I am sure all or just about all readers would have their own stories. I will get the scariest example out of the way now. Three times so far, I have mentally faced off against medical doctors on one specific type of event. These doctors told me the prognosis of how long a beloved relative would live — including my mother and favorite aunt. All three times I had a gut feeling of when death would occur: and my opinion went against medical advice. Sho’ enuff, I learned never to bet against my gut. The doctor’s were blowin’ smoke. My gut had the finger on the pulse, or something like that. My contrary statements about my Mother’s impending death caused a small family fight. The doctors gave an optimistic prognosis about the results of a scheduled surgery. I announced the doctors were wrong about my Mom’s life expectancy. Family reply: “What do you know, you are not a doctor?” I sounded like a crazed man: but it unfolded, sadly, just as I said it would happen. I was not making a prediction. I just knew future facts before they happened. I dunno how.

Here is the short example of my first “prediction” and it has a happy ending. I was in college and got the frantic message that my favorite, Aunt Regina, was dying in the hospital – time was short, if I wanted to say goodbye. Three days later, I was on the plane heading home. I flew a red eye. I had very little sleep that night. Shortly after dawn, Mom picked me up at Newark International. We drove straight to the hospital. Rushing to my aunt’s sick bed, I was horrified by the IV drip and machines. My weak aunt looked up at me and smiled. My exhausted red eyed with blurred vision could not focus clearly on my Aunt. That did not matter. My gut told me instantly that Aunt Regina was not dying. I knew that she would live for many more years. I had a very odd mixture of emotions: relief and “WTF is going on here”?; combined with a gnawing doubt that I was wrong. What did I know, I was not a doctor? The doctors gave her days or a few weeks at most. My Aunt lived for six more years.

I remember as a kid going to see once famous “Kreskin the Magician and Psychic.” As part of his routine, Kreskin said to the audience, “I am thinking of a number between one and one hundred. Close your eyes and concentrate. See if the number comes to you” I closed my eyes and just thought real hard. I saw in my mind’s eye a very small number 56 in a medium blue circle. The circle and number got bigger and bigger and it was very clear. Sho’ enuf’ Kreskin announced, “I am thinking of the number 56. How many of you got it?” My hand shot up into the air and I became a believer. Of what, I do not know to this day.

I can give you a smallest example an experience on the periphery of explainable. The small town ofTaos, N.M. is a center of New Age nonsense, a recent overlay smothering so much unbelievable good stuff in Taos history and culture — everything from the beautiful Taos Indian Pueblo to the final home and resting place of the scandalous writer D.H. Lawrence “Lady Chatterlys Lover”). A few years back, the locals got their knickers in a knot over the Taos Hum. The Hum was an ambient buzzing sound without a directional source. Periodically and only in specific parts of the metro Taos not contiguous, people would step outside and they would be surrounded by this noticeable hum or buzzing noise. Explanations abounded as the good and groovy denizens posited aliens, vortex energy, the giant worm Oroborous trying to find a mate — who knows what? More sober minded citizens, and all the retired physics researchers from the nearby nuclear labs, posited as the source perhaps the nuclear labs, army experiments, new weapons research and on and on as the source. Some New Agers grounded in psychology contended it was a contagious delusion, a mild mass hysteria; such a phenomena has a psychological or medical basis, by the way: Think, as an extreme example, of the Salem Witch Trials.. The uproar and innumerable investigations went on for years. Finally the Hum stopped without explanation. 

I heard the Hum. I was in a rural area outside of Taos. I just stepped out of the Millicent Rogers museum. Sho’ enough I heard a loud hum or vibration coming from everywhere — I could not echo-locate a directional source of the buzz. I stood there looking at the beautiful snow covered piñon pine grove ringing the parking lot. I just listened attentively but puzzled for quite awhile. I got in my car and drove off. I have no idea: but neither does anybody else who is talking.

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More psychic oriented experiences include some of the insightful readings by clairvoyants at Harmony Grove Spiritual Retreat in Escondido, CA and even my own traditional healer, Pak Mangku here in Bali. How did these people know these specific information facts about my life? Most recent example is my traditional healer Pak Mangku. He knew my specific plans for the near future. Twice, Pak Mangku told me about my travel plans; one was a major plan I had NOT told anybody in the world. How? See, “Enter the Balians” under Bali Culture for details, While there, you can read about how energy from power rings seemed to be part of my successful treatment (?).

See, all of a sudden, I sound like a fellow New Age traveller. Nyet!

I believe in everything Pak Mangku does. And maybe my belief in Pak Mangku is the basis of my healing. But dang, he also does trigger-point, deep tissue massage; and a whole bunch of other stuff which I do not even understand. Maybe the treatment causes the healing. Maybe both.