Wednesday, 30 November, 1994
Michael: Hallo, Bivalia. How are you?
Bivalia:[a] Very well, thank you. And what have you been up to recently?
Michael: Oh, nothing special, I guess. I've been into town today,
something I do rarely. But I decided to get Eric Klein's two books The
Inner Door, volumes 1 and 2. However, on the tram on the way home, I
tried starting to read, but somehow couldn't get into it.
Bivalia: Well, give yourself time. Perhaps you're not in the mood for it
Michael: No, I don't think I am. There was something else I did also.
More than a week ago, I decided to write a letter to the composer George Lloyd
whom I mentioned in a previous session, the one whose symphonies I admire so
much, you know.
Bivalia: I'm with you. Why did you decide to write to him?
Michael: I wanted to find out if the scores of any of his music are
available. I've never seen them in shops like Fine Music, and I thought the
best way to find out would be to write to the composer himself. He'd probably
reply; I think composers like to hear from people who like their music, and
are pleased to know that there are people who appreciate what they do.
Well, I wrote the letter over a week ago, perhaps getting on for two
weeks ago; but I didn't know where to send it. It would probably be
impossible to find out his home address, but Joan I. (my aunt, whom I
visited a week or so ago) suggested if I wanted to write, I could send the
letter to his record company, who would probably forward it on. But I had to
find out what his record company was, and what their address was (probably in
England or America - preferably in England, if he had more than one record
I thought the easiest way of finding out this would be to visit a record
shop, and ask to see some of his records. I would find out which company did
his music, and with a bit of luck one of the record covers might even give the
address. While I was in town today I decided to visit Thomas's Records, which
was only a block away from the Theosophical Society Bookshop where I got the
Eric Klein books. And I found out the name and address of George Lloyd's
record company, so I can now send the letter to them, and hope they'll send it
on to wherever he lives.
I met the owner of Thomas's Records, Peter Posarnig, who recognized me,
even after all these years. I used to buy records quite often in the 1970s,
back in the days when I actually listened to music, and quite often I went to
Thomas's. I probably don't buy anything in the recorded music area more than
once or twice a decade now, but Peter still knew who I was.
Bivalia: He probably wonders why you don't buy anything these days.
Michael: Perhaps. He said nothing about it though. But he did on a
previous occasion, and I think I just gave him a fairly brief version of the
reasons why I don't - that is, that it is impossible, where I live, with
neighbours so close, to listen to music without unfairly imposing it on them
against their will, and, given that I would resent it if other people forced
their music on me, I can't justify forcing mine on other people, even though
it means I never listen to music as a result. I don't remember what Peter
said to that (I didn't go into lots of detail), but he probably wouldn't
understand why I feel that way.
Anyway, I found out what I went into Thomas's for, the record company's
address in England, and I wrote it down. I had a look round at what music by
other composers was available, and all sorts of things seem to be available.
It was obvious that I had totally lost touch with things over the years.
There was a time, well over a decade ago (before compact discs were even in
existence), when I thought I had a reasonably good idea of what was available
in classical music generally - but not now. There are all sorts of treasures
available. Given that I would have no hope of being able to afford to buy
everything I would conceivably like to (you'd have to be rich for that), and
also given that even if I could afford it, I couldn't listen to it anyway (for
the reasons I just gave), seeing how much wonderful stuff was available was
quite depressing in a way. If there are things you might like but can't take
advantage of, perhaps it's better not to know about them.
Needless to say, I didn't buy anything (and hadn't entered the shop with
any intention of doing so); if I can't listen to music properly anyway, there
certainly isn't any point in wasting expensive money buying records.
And I suspect that, even if conditions were ideal: I could afford to buy
lots of records (and proper equipment for playing them), that I had a house
out in the country where I could play all the music I like without anyone else
being able to hear it at all, and so on - if conditions were ideal, like this,
I suspect that my attitude to recorded music has become so poisoned that I just
wouldn't ever feel like listening to music anyway, that I wouldn't enjoy it,
that I would just feel bad about it.
I suspect that my feelings about this are so tangled that perhaps it
would be better to just give up music altogether, playing, composing, the
lot. It is obvious that the conditions of my life simply are not in the least
favourable for developing a musical life of any sort.
Bivalia: Do you need to listen to recorded music in order to compose your
Michael: I'm not sure. That's one of the uncertainties of the whole
thing. I suspect it would be better to be able to. You don't compose music
in a vacuum; composers are often inspired by other music they hear, and
listening to music, especially if you can follow with a copy of the score, is
the best way of learning technique. It it doubtful, at best, if I already
have enough technique to write all the music I want to.
Bivalia: It's difficult to know what to say to all this.
Michael: In other words, you're stumped; I've presented you with a
problem you have no answer to.
Bivalia: I've never said that there's an instant solution to all the
problems of life. It is obvious that there is not, whether in your life, or
anyone else's. It may be otherwise after the Earth's ascension, but we're
talking about now.
It is your prerogative to withdraw from music now if you feel the
difficulties involved outweigh the benefits; and this would still not preclude
you coming back to it when conditions are better, after ascending even.
Michael: But meanwhile, I suppose I have to do something with my life
now. At least, I don't feel morally obliged to, but without something to do,
life would be intolerably boring and depressing.
Bivalia: Perhaps computer programming is another avenue.
Michael: To an extent; but I don't somehow feel it has the same spiritual
possibilities that I feel music has - at least, that I feel it does in my
better moments. And although I started studying computer programming at
Swinburne in 1989 with a view towards having a career in computer programming,
I don't feel I would in the least fit into the business-type areas that would
probably lead to, and I certainly don't feel the slightest emotional
commitment to the business world, or government, or the military, or the
scientific establishment, or areas like that which use computer programming,
in one of which I would presumably be working by now if I had completed that
Bivalia: Well, in making the suggestion, I didn't necessarily mean anything
like that. Perhaps just for your own interest - although I think it can often be
good, if the opportunity comes, to be able to use your talents in any area for
wider causes than a purely private interest. Opportunities could arise in the
computer programming area that you would be quite unable to see ahead of time,
which would be in an area you do feel some affinity with, perhaps even spiritual
kinship. It's worth keeping in mind, anyway, if you do want to follow this.
It may be that music will be better kept for a later time. If things don't
favour it now, it could be that it's not what you're meant to be doing right
now. Many people on a spiritual path believe that when you're meant to be doing
something, things just go right, everything goes your way, and it's obvious that
your musical life is not doing that, that it is in fact almost doing the
opposite, opposing you at every turn.
Michael: Well, thanks a lot! This is turning into a rather gloomy
session today, isn't it? Well, I've been feeling rather down for the last
couple of days. I don't quite know why; there isn't always a reason that I
can see, but it paralyzes everything I try to do, even kills the desire to do
anything much at all.
I'm not even quite sure why I started this session, and I don't seem to
have much more to say now. Perhaps I've been trying to write too much in the
last couple of weeks.
I'll tell you what. I'm starved, and will go and have a break and
something to eat; then I'll come back here and have another try at
continuing. If I can't, I think we'll call it quits for tonight. But I
suspect that every time I start a session, there is something deep down that I
want to say, even if I can't tell what it is.
Bivalia: Okay; maybe I'll see you in a little while.
Michael: I'm back, and I've had something to eat. When I get really
hungry and have to eat, I don't see the slightest way I'll ever be able to do
the ground ascension process, practically stopping eating, and all that.
Bivalia: Don't worry about it. You may remember that Sananda and Serapis
Bey themselves told you that it is not for everyone.
Michael: Even eating very little on the 12th, like Archangel Michael
requested of us all, for anchoring the energy for the 12-12, would probably be
too much for me. Eating nothing (or very little), even for just one day, is a
big hardship for me.
Bivalia: Archangel Michael also said you don't need to carry such
suggestions to the extent that it worries you. It might be good to eat little
that day if you find you can do so without worry; but if it's going to cause you
much discomfort, he himself said it would give better results to eat than to stay
Michael: There's only one situation where I can eat very little for many
hours without it worrying me, and that is when I am deeply involved in
something like computer programming, or writing, or something similar. Even
so, I get very hungry, but it matters a bit less if I'm concentrating on
something else, and have so many ideas to get down that I can't afford to stop
in order to eat.
But I'm afraid meditation of the sort Archangel Michael asked us to do is
most unlikely to absorb me to that extreme degree, unless I manage, in
meditating, to see wonderful visions, or have an out-of-body experience, or
something like that. If that happened, I think it would be utterly absorbing;
but, unfortunately, I don't seem to be given to having such things happen. I
will try to do some meditation of the sort that Archangel Michael asked us to do, but
I don't feel I can promise definite results in advance, because I do seem to
have unusual difficulty in doing anything of this sort.
Bivalia: Whatever you can do will be appreciated.
Michael: Anyway, I think I want to finish up now. This conversation
isn't exactly reaching the dizzy heights of inspiration, and I'm getting
bored. I somehow feel weighed down by my life, by the world, and even by the
things that would normally interest me. I think I want to go to bed and
perhaps read a bit, then get some sleep.
Bivalia: Why not try asking St. Germain again to help you transmute your
low-frequency energy to higher frequencies? You did that a little while ago, and
within 24 hours you had a dream of flying. Perhaps that is not a coincidence.
Perhaps something similar might happen if you ask him again.
Michael: Yes, well, perhaps you're right. I might do that, and let's
hope it leads to good results. But I think I'll say good-night now.
Bivalia: Good-night, Michael.