Hi Joe, I was enthralled and grateful for all your input at the recent GV at the Monroe Institute a month ago. It was such a pleasure to listen to you.
Would you be kind enought to answer a question for me, please? Was the recent failed Yemen attack on oil facilities the event that you RV’d and referred to?

Many thanks
Karon

I agree about not wanting to hear people bitch about having to RV alone. While RVing alone (particularly LEARNING to RV alone) might be a complicating difficulty – that’s all it is. If you really want to RV, you’ll find a way, alone or otherwise. It’s like people who say they want to lift weights and get in shape but bitch about not having a set of dumbells and barbells. As if they don’t know about push-ups, crunches, pull-ups, and running. Or as if they will never be able to afford any gym euqipment or make some themselves. Like anything, if the desire and the determination is a strong, a way can almost always be found.

In the blog which this one refers to -”Remote Viewing Visuals”, you seem to be saying that visuals are almost never literal representations of the target. I agree that most visuals are metaphorical or symbolic and thus need to be understood as descriptions of the target in some way – not as direct representations of the target. In those cases, visuals are types of symbolic imagery.

But I get target-representative visuals. At least, that’s how I think of them.

I experience – and have always experienced – a type of visual that, while not being a total representation of the target; are without doubt direct representations of ASPECTS or PARTS of the target. For example, a picture target of a small cabin with a mostly metal wagon wheel leaning against the front wall next to the door resulted in my “seeing” a very brief and fleeting glimpse of a WOODEN wagon wheel. My visual was – as usual – only similar to the wheel in the target picture. Something else, maybe a kinesthetic sense, gave me the impression this wagon wheel was leaning to one side. Yet a different sense gave me the impression of a large, flat, vertical space or mass next to me (which also meant, at the time, next to the wagon wheel). The wall was sensed almost as an oppressive shadow.

From the above (and the rest of the session), I was able to correctly sketch a picture of of a small cabin with a wagon wheel leaning against an outer wall. Unfortunately, I incorrectly placed the wheel as leaning against a side wall – not the front wall by the door.

Now, I definately “saw” that wheel in my mind. My mental concept of the wheel was completely wooden, however; and was missing the red, metal parts. I correctly perceived a log fence also in a very similar manner. However, neither of these elements – the wheel and fence – came through as single, distinct image. In both cases (as in all my RV and PSI experience), the parts of perceptions I’m callling “visuals” were more like memories.

Memories. If I close my eyes right now and try to remember my great-grandfather’s face, I don’t get a static, clear image. Instead, I get a collage of shifting images and snippets of thoughts and feelings that are associated with him. I see a fleeting image of his black, plastic-rimmed eyeglasses with the line across the lenses because he needed one prescription for far seeing and one for near. I catch a similarly fleeting glimpse of his smile, conjured up from watching his response to something I did as a child that he got a kick out of. I see his old, bony, and liver-spotted hands petting a new-born calf’s head and I simultaneously recall how paper-thin and soft the old man’s skin had become. I very briefly have an image of the whiskers on his chin as steam is blowing out with his breath, seen up close – a memory drawn from when I used to ride on his knee when we’d take the tractor across a pasture to cut holes in the ice on the pond so the cattle could drink.

This all happens in a matter of seconds. None of the images stays put. They merge, one into another, in no particular order. I see his eyes, his nose, his ears, his smile, his chin. But I never see his entire face in one clear, stationary image.

For me, this is how the most literal images and visuals are when I remote view. The thoughts, concepts, sense of emotions, and vague “feelings” that come with them tell me much more than the swirling visuals themselves do. After about 8 years of remote viewing almost daily, I’ve long since given up the idea that I can hope for my mind to show me movies and snapshots of the target.

Thanks so much for posting your thoughts with passion. Also, for reminding us that our mind, body, spirit have a unique way of communicating and interacting with that which is all.

Take care- Paula

someone once said, “Know yourself and you will know the whole universe”.
I guess that applies very well to the art of RV.

Thanks for your advice. It’s much appreciated.

cheers
Liz

Anyway get well and stay well.

Regards,
Bill Z