Angelic technology? Yup. It's a thing.

In this week’s session, the depth and breadth of Dr. Peebles’ teachings is almost overwhelming. 

The intensity of his presence that I felt when I first went into trance was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It was like a huge wave that carried my spirit far from my body. Then, once I settled into the energy, it felt like I used to feel when I was a child all snuggled up in bed for the night. My Daddy would often come home late from work, and my Mom always had a late dinner and cocktails ready for him. I was not quite yet asleep, and I could hear their muffled voices, and the clinking of glasses and silverware as they ate and drank and shared about their days. It was a lullaby for my soul, and I would drift into a safe and restful slumber. 

Coming out of trance was sort of like being awakened from a deep sleep when the cat jumped onto my bed, landing right in the middle of my solar plexus.

After 26 years, I still find the process of trance very fascinating. One day, as I looked at the audio wavelength on the recorder that I use to record the sessions, I noticed a distinct difference between the wavelength (which shows the frequency and amplitude of sound) when I am speaking, compared to the wavelength when Dr. Peebles is speaking. My wavelength is up and down, and clearly much softer than the magnitude of Dr. Peebles’ voice. What you see in the graphic above is the wavelength taken from this week’s session. Dr. Peebles’ wavelength looks like that for the full duration of his teaching. What I show in the graphic is just a snippet of the wavelength. Whew! I get exhausted just looking at it!

In this week’s session, Dr. Peebles talked a lot about the technology that Spirit is working with on the other side, as they strive to develop ways to communicate with us through our devices such as our computers. This might seem very far-fetched to some of you, but it really isn’t. Spirit really does exist, and they have lives that they are living. They aren’t just floating around on clouds or hovering in the ethers. Their lives are not static by any stretch of the imagination. I have, in fact, personally assisted in some of their experiments with sound as they asked me to provide feedback as they tested their devices. I have also witnessed their use of technology to assist me. One time, they manipulated technology to help me find a missing friend: Jerry Helmeczi.

Those of you who have read my autobiography are familiar with my relationship with Jerry; a complicated karma-filled relationship that has deep roots and connection to a past lifetime with pirates in New Jersey. I edited and published Jerry’s book about the pirates and the treasure that he found underneath his father’s house (a true story). His book, Now That I’m Dead, is now bundled with my book, The Cellars and Ceilings of Summer, and both books are offered for FREE on my website. Getting our books published was not easy, but thanks to Spirit, it happened.

Over the course of 20 years, Jerry and I have suffered many separations from each other, for a variety of reasons. After many years, we had a reconciliation and healing of our relationship in 2015 when Jerry was visiting Arizona. 

He then returned to New Jersey, and I believed I would never see him again. I threw all memories away; every copy of his book, the only photo of him and me, his email address, and phone number. I deleted everything related to him from my computer and external hard drives. I was heartbroken, but felt it was necessary in order to move on with my life.

Then, in March 2017, my unfinished autobiography and Jerry’s book began calling to me again. It was time to finish them and get them published. I ignored these tugs, and instead busied myself with other projects and website ideas for the next few weeks, but none of them panned out. My efforts were futile.

Then, one evening, as I sat at my desk staring out the window, a still, small voice within me whispered ever so softly, “it is time.” At first I ignored it, but then it shouted “NOW!” so loudly, I nearly dropped my glass of champagne. It was April 18, 2017. It was time to find him; to call Jerry. But, how was I to do that? I’d thrown everything away. I searched several times for his name on my computer and external drives, and not surprisingly, I came up with nothing. An internet search of his name was also not very fruitful, except for a lifeless Facebook page with a final post dated August 1, 2014, with a simple photo of a beautiful sunflower. 

I said a quick prayer to God and Spirit, asking for their help. I was immediately prompted to do another search on my computer and external hard drives. It seemed ridiculous, but once again I searched for “Jerry.” Nothing showed up in the search window. But, as I looked at my computer screen, I noticed a teeny tiny little icon on my desktop. It wasn’t there before the search. It was so tiny, it could have been mistaken for an itsy bitsy spider making its way across my screen. I looked closely at it, and was able to see that it was a file called “Jerry” that was in a format I did not recognize. Curious, I clicked on it. This was no easy task, as the icon was really tiny. It opened…and then disappeared. I heard, “Check your address book.” Obediently, I checked my computer address book for the zillionth time, and there it was: Jerry Helmeczi, and a phone number. 

I was shaking as I called the number, prepared for disappointment that the number might be disconnected. But, it rang.

A sullen and familiar voice answered the phone. “Hullo.” 

“Hi, Jerry. How are you?” I deliberately didn’t announce who I was, hoping that he would recognize my voice. 

Still sullen, he said, “Okay. How are you?” 

“I’m good.” I held my breath, wondering who he thought he was talking to. 

A loud gasp erupted on the other end of the phone, and I think I heard his jaw drop on the floor. 

“Is this…? This…? …Summer Bacon?” 

It turned out that he was now living in Arizona. Two days later, we met at Café José in Sedona, and hugged openly and deeply. I looked Jerry in the eyes, “This is like the song that doesn’t end...” I said, referring to a silly children's song that we both knew well.

“It just goes on and on, my friend...” he followed through.

“Some people started singin’ it, not knowin' what it was...”

Then we chimed in together, “...and they’ll continue singin’ it forever, just because...this is the song that doesn’t end...”

We laughed, and laughed, a lot. And, it felt really, really good to reunite. It still does. We will be best of friends forevermore.

Some of the experiences that I share about my life may seem too strange to be true. But, I can assure you, they are true, and so magical! When we release ourselves from the confines of the earth, body and mind, and go into the unknown, trusting our inner guidance, the still, small voice within, and the stirrings of our heart, life becomes an incredible adventure without limitations. It’s no longer about thinking, “That’s impossible…” but rather about asking, “How is this possible?” and seeing what unfolds.