In my years of research into matters beyond the reach of the five human senses, I have gradually arrived at the conclusion that it is almost impossible to write “historical fiction” or “science fiction” because there are so many instances of real events having taken place before recorded history.
My research has taken the form of conversations with spiritual beings where the topic of interest was not historical events, but the problems that the beings had experienced which had never been satisfactorily resolved.
In thousands of conversations with discarnate spiritual beings, I have heard personal accounts of those who were involved in the fall of civilizations and the destruction of towns, cities and entire galaxies because of an inability to recognize and handle dangers in a rational way. Cultures can be remarkably fragile if the right forces are brought to bear on them. They can last for thousands of years and then implode when new technology appears which allows individuals to organize and expose secrets that have kept the civilization subservient to an elite few.
Since we are immortal beings, we eventually can have access to memories that predate life on earth or even in the Solar system we inhabit. There are many good reasons we have chosen to forget many of these earlier memories, but it only takes one well-told story to awaken some of these memories that were carefully buried many civilizations ago.
Our contemporary efforts at writing “fiction” will often stir up racial memories that predate mankind’s history on this planet. Even our efforts to write inspirational fiction can awaken memories of failed efforts to save humanity. The point I am trying to make here is that we should consider our “fiction” a recasting of real historical events and use what we can remember to make the “fiction” instructive as a guide to future actions.
Many years ago I wrote a long, rambling saga about a Prometheus type figure who returned to Earth on ancient Crete. I had no trouble coming up with realistic events and a suspenseful story line and my wife suggested that I visit Crete to get some local color since I had never been on the island before.
When I toured the south shore of Crete, I was struck by the many similarities between my mental image pictures of the land and the present day landscape and the profound differences between what I envisioned and what was now there. I found caves and mountain passes exactly as I pictured them, but I found great harbors missing on the south shore of Crete. They had been replaced with rocky beaches with streams trickling across them.
The island had tilted to the north when Santorini exploded in the Late Bronze Age about 1600 BCE.
As I continued to write my fictional story, I kept getting fragments of other events including the reason Santorini exploded and my story really got out of hand. It was progressing in too many directions. I finally put it away for another day and decided that I was not cut out to be a writer of fiction.
It was 19 years later that I began to connect the dots and realized that I was picking up bits of history in every SRT session and the rescuing of spiritual beings was more important than a fictional or accurate account of early days in the Minoan civilization.
Every SRT session adds a few more fragments to the story of this planet and our earlier planets, but the real benefit is adding to the technology which frees us from the errors of the past. We can now rehabilitate beings and restore them to a more godlike state if they so wish that to happen. At the very least, we can enable beings to understand their current state as clusters of beings working in unison or in opposition. This allows us to teach others to perceive and manage phenomena that are active beyond the reach of human perceptions.