Ultimate Journey

«A hardcover edition of this book was originally published in 1994 by Doubleday» — la datación editorial

«I assumed it was some form of severe hallucination caused by something dangerous—a brain tumor, a stroke, or impending mental illness» — cómo interpretó al principio el fenómeno: patología, no revelación

«I would float up a few feet above my body before I became aware of what was happ» — la descripción del episodio; el corte de página trunca la frase

«The I-There of me—the IT that each of us has, containing all previous and present lifetimes» — la definición del I-There, el concepto que organiza este volumen

«personal CHEC unit (Controlled Holistic Environmental Chamber) where the actual learning process takes place. By 1993 over seven thousand people had experienced the evolving program, known as the Gateway Voyage» — el dispositivo y el nombre del programa, con su cifra de participantes

«Programs and workshops are also organized at locations throughout the United States and in other countries around the world» — el alcance que declara

«I perceive you need to return to the physical now.» — cierre de un diálogo con un INSPEC, en su propia transcripción

«I returned to the physical to empty a full bladder. The signal—my signal—was all too familiar! How small it is to be human—but how much fun» — cómo remata ese episodio, sin solemnidad

«Fear is the great barrier to human growth. It is said that when we are born into this physical universe we bring with us only two fears, of loud noise and of falling, both engendered by the birth process.» — la tesis con que Monroe abre el libro: el miedo es la barrera del crecimiento humano, y solo dos miedos son de nacimiento —al ruido fuerte y a la caída—, ambos producidos por el propio parto.

«As we grow older we learn more and more fears so that by the time we reach maturity we—or most of us—are loaded with them. We have grown physically, but our real growth, the realization of our true potential, has been sadly impeded.» — y su consecuencia, en su voz: los demás miedos se aprenden, de modo que el crecimiento físico llega pero el del potencial real queda impedido.

«Unknowns create fears. We may fear the darkness because we don’t know what’s there. A physical pain may create fear because we don’t know what it may imply. When these Unknowns become Knowns the fears diminish and disappear and we are able to cope with whatever confronts us.» — la mecánica que propone y que da nombre al vocabulario del volumen: el miedo lo crea lo desconocido, y convertir *Unknowns* en *Knowns* lo disuelve.

«It is generally believed that as we go through life we don’t really change. We just become more of the same. Barring the usual exceptions that, as we say, prove the rule, when we look around us as the years go by, this seems quite valid. On the whole, people don’t change, and most of us strongly resist change.» — Monroe recoge la creencia general —que la gente no cambia, solo se vuelve más de lo mismo— y la da por verosímil a simple vista antes de discutirla.

«Nevertheless, all our worries and wars are based upon change. We fear that something will happen, or we fear that it won’t; so we fight to prevent change or to speed up the process. But whatever we do, change is 100 percent guaranteed. The only question is its rate. Slow change we interpret as evolution, fast as revolution. Changes are the epitome of Unknowns—the greatest of fear generators.» — y la corrige: el cambio está garantizado al cien por ciento y lo único en discusión es su ritmo —evolución si es lento, revolución si es rápido—, de modo que el cambio es el mayor generador de miedo.

«In my own case, there seemed to be no choice. I fell, unknowing and panic-stricken, into the process that engendered the new recognition of reality—what I call the Different Overview—that I now carry with me. The change in my life was not simply more of the same. It was something that hadn’t worried me beforehand because I had no idea that such things existed. Was this change in my life accidental or evolutionary? To me, it was revolutionary.» — cómo sitúa su propio caso: cayó en el proceso sin saberlo y presa del pánico, y de ahí salió lo que llama el *Different Overview*; califica el cambio de revolucionario, no de evolutivo.

«In 1958, without any apparent cause, I began to float out of my physical body. It was not voluntary; I wasn’t attempting any mental feats. It was not during sleep, so I couldn’t dismiss it as simply a dream. I had full, conscious awareness of what was happening, which of course only made it worse.» — el arranque del fenómeno, fechado en 1958 y descrito con sus descartes: no era voluntario, no ocurría durmiendo y la conciencia plena de lo que pasaba lo empeoraba.

«The phenomenon continued. I had no control over it. It occurred usually when I would lie down or relax for rest or preparatory to sleep—not every time, but several times weekly.» — la frecuencia que declara, sin control de su parte: varias veces por semana, al acostarse o al relajarse.

«Terrified, I would struggle through the air and back into my physical body. I was sure I was dying. Try as I might, I could not prevent it from recurring.» — y la reacción, en su testimonio: terror, forcejeo por volver al cuerpo y la certeza de estar muriendo.

«At the time, I thought I was in reasonably good health with no major problems or stress. I was fully occupied; I owned several radio stations and other businesses, had offices on Madison Avenue in New York, a home in Westchester County, and, not the least, a wife and two small children. I was taking no medication, used no drugs, and drank very little alcohol. I was not particularly involved in any religion, nor was I a student of philosophies or Eastern disciplines. I was completely unprepared for such a radical change.» — Monroe descarta uno por uno los factores que podrían explicarlo: salud razonable, sin medicación, drogas ni apenas alcohol, sin religión ni estudio de filosofías o disciplinas orientales.

«It is impossible to describe the fear and the loneliness that took over during these episodes. There was no one I could talk with about it, not even my wife in the early days because I didn’t want to alarm her. Strongly attached to Western culture and science in general, I automatically turned to conventional medicine and orthodox science for answers. After extensive examinations and tests, my doctor reassured me that there was no brain tumor or physiological factor involved. But more he could not tell.» — a quién acudió primero y qué obtuvo: medicina convencional y ciencia ortodoxa descartaron tumor cerebral y factor fisiológico, y de ahí no pasaron. La abstención del médico se ficha como parte del testimonio.

«Eventually I found the courage to talk to a psychiatrist and a psychologist, both of whom I knew as friends. One assured me I was not psychotic—he knew me too well. The other suggested indeterminate years of study under a guru in India—a concept wholly alien to me. I revealed to neither of them, nor to anyone else, how extremely frightened I was. I was a misfit in a culture of which I thought I was a part, a culture that I admired and respected.» — la segunda consulta, con psiquiatra y psicólogo: uno lo declara no psicótico, el otro le propone años de estudio con un gurú en India, y él calla ante ambos lo asustado que estaba.

«Yet the drive for survival is very strong. Slowly, very slowly, I learned to control the process. I found that it was not necessarily a prelude to dying, that it could be directed. But it took a full year before I came to accept the reality of the out-of-body experience— now familiarly known as OBE. This came about as the result of some forty carefully validated OBE “trips,” giving me—and no one else—extensive documentation. With this knowledge the fear soon receded, to be replaced by something almost as demanding— curiosity!» — cómo dice haber salido del miedo: un año y unas cuarenta salidas validadas con cuidado, documentación que reconoce válida para él y para nadie más; el miedo cede y lo reemplaza la curiosidad.

«Still, something had to be done. I needed answers, and I was sure I would not find them in an Indian ashram. My thought processes were the product of Western civilization, for good or ill. Therefore, to provide systematic help to me and also to gather information related to this strange “Unknown,” I set up a research and development division in the corporation privately owned by me and my family. This division later was detached and became eventually what is now The Monroe Institute.» — el origen que declara del instituto: una división de investigación y desarrollo dentro de la empresa familiar, montada para resolver su propio caso, que después se desprendió.

«Thus the original purpose was solely to solve my own personal and urgent problems: to convert my fear-producing Unknowns into Knowns if at all possible. That meant learning how to control and understand the out-of-body experience. To begin with, I was the only one I knew who needed such help, so the motive was personal and selfish, not profound, idealistic, or noble. I offer no apology for this; I was the one who paid the bills.» — y el motivo, que se niega a ennoblecer: personal y egoísta, convertir sus *Unknowns* generadores de miedo en *Knowns*, sin disculpa porque él pagaba las cuentas.

«In a contemporary view, the OBE is a state of consciousness where you perceive yourself as distinct and separate from your physical body. This separateness can be two inches or two thousand miles, or more. You can think, act, and perceive in this state much as you do physically, although with some important exceptions.» — la definición de OBE que adopta: un estado de conciencia en que uno se percibe distinto y separado del cuerpo físico, con la salvedad de unas excepciones importantes.

«In the early stages of OBE activity, you seem to retain the form of your physical body—head, shoulders, arms, legs, and so on. As you become more familiar with this other state of being, you may become less humanoid in shape. It is similar to gelatin when taken out of the mold. For a short period it retains the form of the mold; then it begins to melt around the edges and finally it becomes a liquid or a blob. When this happens in an OBE, it takes only a thought for you to become totally human again in shape and form.» — la fenomenología de la forma, con su símil de la gelatina desmoldada: al principio se conserva la figura humana, luego se pierde y basta un pensamiento para recobrarla.

«From this description it is clear that this “second body” is extremely plastic. However, it is very important to know that, whatever the shape, you remain you. That does not change—except that you discover you are more than you realized.» — aquí aparece el término del primer volumen: llama *second body* a lo que describe, lo declara extremadamente plástico y sostiene que la identidad no cambia con la forma.

«As to where you go and what you do, there seems to be no limitation. If there is, we have not found it. In an out-of-body state, you are no longer bounded by time-space. You can be in it but not part of it. You—your nonphysical self—are comfortable in another energy system. You have a great sense of freedom. Yet you are not totally free. You are like a balloon or a kite on a tether. At the other end of the cord—the invisible cord—is your physical body.» — el límite de la libertad que describe: fuera del tiempo-espacio y sin limitación hallada, pero atado como un globo o una cometa por un cordón invisible al cuerpo físico.

«Early in our investigation, we realized that we live in a culture and civilization where waking physical consciousness is the most vital of all qualities. It is not easy to make a case for any state of being that is different. A little inquiry soon produces any number of anomalies which cannot be fitted or answered within the confines of current Knowns or belief systems—bearing in mind that “belief” is a currently popular label for anything that cannot be fully understood or identified.» — la observación cultural con que explica la dificultad: en esta civilización la conciencia física de vigilia es la cualidad decisiva, y *belief* funciona como etiqueta de moda para lo que no se entiende ni se identifica.

«We began to work on questions about consciousness in general. What happens to it when we become unconscious through a hit on the head, shock, fainting, alcohol or drug overdose, anesthesia, sleep, or death? Is consciousness akin to a magnetic field produced by an electromagnet that ceases to exist once the electricity is cut off? If so, does it get weaker or stronger if we vary the “electrical” current? If we do this, we are doing it without any awareness of the “how” of it. How can we control such action, if at all?» — las preguntas con que dice haber empezado —qué le pasa a la conciencia en el golpe, el desmayo, la anestesia, el sueño o la muerte— y la analogía del campo magnético; quedan como preguntas, no como respuestas.

«We moved away from seeking materialistic explanations to look at the other end of the spectrum. What if consciousness does continue when the current is reduced? Immediately we began to find examples.» — el giro metodológico que declara: abandonar la explicación materialista y probar la hipótesis contraria, que la conciencia siga cuando baja la corriente.

«The problem is that when out-of-body we have lost consciousness and yet we haven’t, our memory is or is not impaired, some of our physical senses are working and some are not, and so on. At the least, we don’t have total consciousness as we like to think of it, and therefore we don’t regard this state as valid.» — el problema que reconoce en su propio material: fuera del cuerpo la conciencia ni está perdida ni está entera, y por eso el estado no se tiene por válido.

«Yet there have been many comatose human beings who have continued to be conscious—they simply had not the means to communicate physically.» — el contraejemplo con que discute el criterio de conciencia por respuesta motora: comatosos que siguieron conscientes y solo carecían de medio para comunicarlo.

«Thus to explain, or explain away, all of the many physical functions we perform without conscious awareness, our culture had to invent nonconscious systems. These are identified as autonomic, subconscious, limbic, and so on, including sleep. Any activity we cannot willfully control is not within consciousness.» — su lectura de las categorías establecidas: autónomo, subconsciente y límbico serían invenciones para explicar —o explicar de más— lo que se hace sin conciencia; es su juicio, no un dato clínico.

«At The Monroe Institute in the 1960s we began not only historical research into aspects of consciousness but also study of out-of-body events, mine and others’. We discovered that many OBEs have been related to the sleep state and thus dismissed as simply dreams— except that they do not fit the hazy and unreal quality associated with dreaming. Other spontaneous OBEs have occurred under anesthesia during surgery, when the patient found himself six or eight feet above the operating table and later reported accurately what he heard and saw from this vantage point—a physical impossibility. Events such as these happen frequently but for the most part are never publicly reported.» — lo que dice haber hallado al estudiar salidas espontáneas: las asociadas al sueño no tienen la calidad brumosa del sueño, y las de quirófano incluyen informes exactos desde encima de la mesa de operaciones que casi nunca se hacen públicos.

«Some of the most striking of the spontaneous OBEs are now often identified as near-death experiences. Again, these occur frequently, usually during surgery under anesthesia. Most have the effect of changing completely the belief systems of the patients, providing them with a genuine Different Overview. They return knowing that not only are they more than their physical bodies, but that, without equivocation, they will survive physical death.» — y el puente que traza con la experiencia cercana a la muerte: cambia por completo el sistema de creencias del paciente y devuelve, dice, la certeza de sobrevivir a la muerte física.

«One of the very few relevant surveys in the past ten years showed that over 25 percent of our national population recall having at least one spontaneous out-of-body experience.» — la única cifra de prevalencia que aporta, y con reserva sobre su base: una de las poquísimas encuestas del decenio da más del 25 por ciento de la población nacional con al menos un episodio espontáneo recordado.

«If you think about it, you may be among that 25 percent. Can you remember having a “flying” dream, with or without an airplane? Can you remember dreaming of looking for your car among many others in a parking lot, finding it, and waking up immediately after doing so? (We often subconsciously look upon our car as an additional body.) Can you remember having a “falling” dream, where you wake up instead of hitting “bottom”? This is quite common when reentry into the physical body is hastened by the ringing of an alarm clock!» — y los indicios domésticos con que invita al lector a reconocerse en esa cifra: el sueño de volar, el del coche en el estacionamiento y el de caer sin llegar al fondo, que él lee como reentrada apresurada por el despertador.

«Until 1970 the whole research effort operated quietly, if not covertly. After all, I was the head of a conventional business dealing with conventional people. I was sure that any public revelation of my secret life activity would bring doubt of my ability to conduct responsible business affairs.» — por qué la investigación fue reservada hasta 1970, en su testimonio: dirigía un negocio convencional y temía que revelarla pusiera en duda su capacidad para llevarlo.

«But I could not remain silent forever. With the publication of my first book, Journeys Out of the Body, our work began to attract much attention. We were able to select a number of volunteers as subjects in our laboratory. Most of them were able to replicate the out-of-body state so familiar to me, using the methods we had developed.» — el efecto que le atribuye a la publicación del primer volumen: atención, voluntarios de laboratorio y, dice, réplica del estado por la mayoría de ellos con los métodos desarrollados.

«During the 1980s, talks on out-of-body experiences were given at various colleges and universities, on radio and TV, and even at the Smithsonian Institution. Three papers were delivered on the subject at the annual convention of the American Psychiatric Association, the presentation being sponsored by the University of Kansas Medical Center and The Monroe Institute. Currently there are occasional cartoon jokes in magazines based upon the out-of-body state as real. T-shirts have OBE themes and even Bob Hope had an out-of-body joke on a TV appearance. The reality of the OBE is slowly becoming accepted, and the term “OBE” is now part of our language.» — cómo describe la normalización del término en los ochenta: charlas en universidades, radio, televisión y el Smithsonian, tres ponencias en el congreso anual de la American Psychiatric Association patrocinadas por el University of Kansas Medical Center y su instituto, y hasta chistes de Bob Hope y camisetas.

«What are the Knowns regarding the out-of-body experience? First, while there is nothing new about realizing that you are more than your physical body, you now have a means of proving it to yourself. We also believe that by applying other criteria it can be proved to the scientific community, and to the rest of humankind. To date, however, we know of no way to do this except through individual personal experience, but we do know that the tools are available to perform this verification.» — la primera de sus certezas y su límite declarado: uno puede probarse a sí mismo que es más que su cuerpo, y aunque cree que la prueba podría extenderse a la comunidad científica, dice no conocer todavía otra vía que la experiencia personal.

«A controlled out-of-body experience is the most efficient means we know to gather Knowns to create a Different Overview. First, and perhaps most important, among these Knowns is survival of physical death. If there is a better way than the OBE of knowing that this takes place—not just hoping, having faith, or believing, but knowing—we are unaware of it. All of those who become only mildly proficient in the OBE soon reach this stage of knowing. In addition, such survival takes place whether we like it or not, and without any consideration as to what we do or are in physical life. It makes no difference. Survival of self beyond physical existence is a natural and automatic process. We wonder how we could ever have become so limited in our thinking.» — la certeza central que declara: la supervivencia a la muerte física, que distingue de esperar, tener fe o creer, y que dice automática y sin relación con lo que uno haya hecho o sido en vida.

«Next, the greatest barrier to proficiency in out-of-body experiencing is fear—fear of the unknown and of physical death. The attachment of our mind-consciousness to the physical environment is very strong. Virtually all of what we think is expressed in time-space terms.» — qué obstaculiza la práctica según él: el miedo a lo desconocido y a la muerte, y el apego de la conciencia mental a un entorno que se piensa entero en términos de tiempo-espacio.

«The only way we have learned to ease these fears is to move into the OBE process one step at a time, in slow motion, as it were. This permits the novice to absorb and become accustomed to small changes, and learn to know that such changes are not dangerous or threatening to physical life. As these changes accumulate, we help the student to look back continually to complete physical awareness, so that there is an ongoing, familiar point of reference. Gradually the basic fears are released.» — el método gradual que describe para el novato: pasos pequeños, a cámara lenta, con retorno continuo a la conciencia física plena como punto de referencia familiar.

«Most important, the mind-consciousness present in the out-of-body state is significantly different from that in physical wakefulness. Initially, intellectual and analytical focus do not seem to be present, at least not in terms we understand. However, the insertion of physical consciousness changes this. Conversely, the emotional extremes of the symbolic right brain are often totally absent and are usually more difficult to activate. (Love in a strict interpretation is not considered an “emotion” in this context.)» — la diferencia que establece entre la conciencia del estado y la de la vigilia física, con su acotación entre paréntesis: el foco intelectual y analítico no aparece de entrada, los extremos emocionales del cerebro derecho suelen faltar, y el amor en sentido estricto no cuenta aquí como emoción.

«In the out-of-body mind-consciousness, all of what we are shows “up front” and out in the open, so to speak. There is no sub- or nonconsciousness hidden under layers of restraint. Thus there cannot be any deceit or deviousness because all of us is on display. Whatever we are, we radiate the facts.» — lo que sostiene sobre la imposibilidad del engaño en ese estado: no hay subconsciente escondido bajo capas de contención, todo queda a la vista y uno irradia lo que es.

«It is perhaps equally important that we learn in the OB state just how much more we are than our physical bodies. The answer to exactly how and why we exist is readily available if we have the desire and courage to find out. When we search for information we may not like the answer we receive, but we know we have the correct one.» — y la advertencia que le pega a esa disponibilidad de respuestas: puede que la respuesta no guste, pero se sabe que es la correcta.

«If you want to prove—to yourself and to no one else—that we survive physical death, you can learn to move into the out-of-body state and seek out a friend, relative, or someone close to you who has recently died. To find them, all you need do is tune in on your memory of what that person was or represented. Several such meetings will be enough.» — el procedimiento concreto que propone para verificar la supervivencia: buscar a un muerto reciente sintonizando la memoria de lo que esa persona era o representaba.

«You will need to make this contact relatively soon after their passing because most of them rapidly lose interest in the life they have just completed.» — con su plazo, y el motivo que le da: la mayoría pierde pronto el interés por la vida que acaba de terminar.

«Moving into the out-of-body state is an excellent means of gathering information. One of the easiest information runs you can make is checking on the welfare of a loved one. It is also probably the most simple of OB targets.» — el segundo uso que le atribuye al estado, recoger información, y cuál considera el blanco más sencillo: comprobar cómo está alguien querido.

«For example, when one of our daughters was away at college, I would occasionally drop in during an OBE to see how she was getting along. However, I made the mistake of telling her about this on one of her visits home. A year later, she told me that after this disclosure every night just before bedtime she would say to the ceiling in her room, “If you’re around, Dad—good night!”» — la anécdota con que ilustra ese uso y de paso su costo doméstico: le contó a su hija que la visitaba y ella acabó despidiéndose del techo cada noche por si andaba cerca.

«Voyeurism is almost nonexistent in the OB state. There is much more exciting action available.» — cómo despacha la objeción del voyerismo, sin argumento moral: hay acción bastante más interesante disponible.

«You can go anywhere in any time, past, present, or future, via OBEs. You can go directly to any chosen place and observe what is there in detail and what is going on. At your target site you can move around the area to observe from different perspectives. The only problem is that you cannot pick up physical objects—your hand goes right through them.» — el alcance que reclama para el estado —cualquier lugar y cualquier tiempo, con cambio de perspectiva sobre el sitio— y el único impedimento que reconoce: la mano atraviesa los objetos físicos.

«With this freedom you can follow the route our explorative research at the Institute has taken. You can go anywhere on Earth, or in it and through it. You can move outward and play around the moon and the solar system. It is beautiful and awe-inspiring, but it can become monotonous. Thus we saw and knew the other side of the moon before the NASA probes took their pictures. It was the same with Mars, where we were looking for artifacts such as buildings or structures that might indicate some form of intelligent life. Some of us even made a number of runs outside the solar system and usually got lost, in the sense that we could not establish where we had gone in relation to Earth. Getting back was no problem. The explorer simply focused on his physical body. There is no speed-of-light limitation.» — lo que dice haber explorado con esa libertad, con su desengaño incluido: la cara oculta de la Luna antes que las sondas de la NASA, Marte a la busca de artefactos, salidas del sistema solar en que se perdían; el regreso, dice, era enfocar el cuerpo físico, sin límite de velocidad de la luz.

«If there are intelligent beings in the physical universe, we failed to find them. Either they were hidden, or more likely we didn’t know what to look for. Of course, our exploration was infinitesimal. Perhaps if we had investigated the further galaxies we would have met someone out there. One day maybe one of us will.» — una negativa que se ficha como hallazgo: no encontraron seres inteligentes en el universo físico, y él lo atribuye antes a no saber qué buscar y a lo minúsculo de la exploración que a que no existan.

«In the nonphysical universe, it was an entirely different matter. We encountered hundreds, if not thousands, most of them nonhuman.» — y el contraste inmediato: en el universo no físico dice haber encontrado cientos o miles, la mayoría no humanos.

«Exploration out-of-body is a prime means for functioning outside the physical universe. The “second body” of the OB state is certainly not physical. It is part of another energy system that commingles with the Earth Life System but is out of phase with it. The clue lies in how easy it is to find those who have left physical existence.» — aquí vuelve a usar el término del primer volumen: el *second body* no es físico y pertenece a otro sistema de energía que se entrevera con el Earth Life System pero está fuera de fase con él.

«When you look for action in this other energy system, in the There, the effect is near-instantaneous. The system is very well populated and you meet some special friends when you become proficient in OBEs.» — y cómo nombra ese otro sistema en este volumen —el *There*—, poblado y de efecto casi instantáneo.

«The highways and byways of out-of-body adventures and exploration are broad and varied, for the most part beyond ordinary time-space concepts. We can understand only that portion which relates directly to the Earth Life System. We may attempt to report the rest of it—and it seems limitless—but we have no acceptable or comparable baseline of knowledge and experience to do this accurately. The problem lies in trying to understand it and to translate what you find—to bring it back.» — la limitación que se pone a sí mismo como informante: solo se entiende la parte que toca al Earth Life System, y del resto no hay línea base de conocimiento comparable para reportarlo con exactitud.

«Never be surprised when you return to the physical to find tears running down your cheeks. What has happened is that you have gone off the edge of the Known map, and have returned with some previous important Unknowns now converted to Knowns. You may or may not convince others of this reality. Most do not try; the individual knowledge is enough.» — cómo describe el regreso y su renuncia a convencer: se vuelve del borde del mapa conocido con lágrimas, y la mayoría no intenta persuadir a nadie porque el conocimiento individual basta.

«Think how such knowledge—not belief or faith—would affect your own life pattern; the knowledge that you are indeed more than your physical body, that you do indeed survive physical death. These two Unknowns converted to Knowns, with no conditions or contingencies—what a difference that would make!» — y qué le pide al lector que imagine: los dos *Unknowns* convertidos en *Knowns* sin condiciones —ser más que el cuerpo y sobrevivir a la muerte física—.

«So unlatch your Security Belief Belt, grab your climbing spurs and perhaps a machete—and let’s hit the high road.» — cierra el capítulo con la imagen que da nombre a lo que hay que soltar, el cinturón de creencias de seguridad, y con el tono de excursión que sostiene todo el libro.

«Throughout history, labels have been developed for those who won’t leave well enough alone: infidels, mystics, sinners, rebels, revolutionaries, misfits, neurotics, anarchists, adventurers, traitors, explorers, visionaries, researchers—add to the list what you will. Any deviation from the accepted norm engenders risk. All of these individuals have been for the most part aware of the risk. If they were not, ignorance was no excuse. If there was a price to be paid in reaction or effect, they must or should have known about it before they took action. No sad tears for the wounded or the dead in such cases. I know this well, and you may discover it for yourself.» — cómo se sitúa a sí mismo en una serie: infieles, místicos, rebeldes, inadaptados, exploradores y visionarios, con la advertencia de que el riesgo se conoce de antemano y no admite lágrimas después.

«So it must be said: the Different Overview you are beginning to consider can be at most only a belief until you begin to test it for validity within your own ongoing experience during your life as an active Human Mind. As small beliefs convert to Knowns, perhaps larger Different Overview beliefs will follow the same path—until you are free.» — la reserva epistémica que le impone al lector desde el principio: el *Different Overview* no puede ser para él más que creencia hasta que lo pruebe en su propia experiencia.

«From this point on, the delivery of a personal narrative seems the most convenient and definitive method of explanation. What to me are Knowns can produce only beliefs in you unless you have had or are having similar experiences that demand verification. Let me therefore attempt to tell it “like it is” for me, allowing you to form your own beliefs which experience may in time convert to Knowns.» — el estatuto textual de lo que sigue, declarado por el autor: narración personal, y lo que para él son *Knowns* solo puede producir creencias en quien lee.

«In my personal run, thirty-plus years of out-of-body activity had brought me to a calm state of satisfaction. A cycle has been completed, or so it seemed. My own Different Overview was well in place and eminently rewarding. Or it should have been.» — dónde estaba al empezar este volumen, con la duda incorporada: treinta y tantos años de actividad fuera del cuerpo, un ciclo aparentemente cerrado y satisfactorio, o eso debería haber sido.

«why I hung around, my final departure schedule, and where I would go when I left. What else could have had any importance? Anything else was mere detail.» — lo que daba por sabido en ese punto —origen, permanencia, calendario de partida y destino—; la frase empieza en la plana anterior, cortada por el salto de plana.

«It was one thing to talk with such mind-consciousness in sessions in a laboratory, as simply a voice speaking through someone physical that you knew well. It was something quite different to encounter one face to face. Either in fun or fact, we had chosen the acronym INSPEC (for Intelligent Species) to identify this energy form, which implied that we Human Minds were something less.» — de dónde sale la palabra INSPEC y qué implica: acrónimo de *Intelligent Species* elegido, dice, entre broma y hecho, con la implicación de que las mentes humanas son algo menos que eso.

«Our usual meeting place was just past the H Band Noise. The H Band Noise is the peak of uncontrolled thought that emanates from all living forms on Earth, particularly humans. If you consider it as truly all, even in a current time frame, you get a better idea of the magnitude of this disorganized, cacophonous mass of messy energy. The amplitude of each segment of the band is determined by the emotion involved in the thought. Yet our civilization does not even recognize that the H Band exists.» — la definición del *H Band Noise*: la cima del pensamiento descontrolado que emana de todo lo vivo en la Tierra, con la amplitud de cada segmento fijada por la emoción del pensamiento.

«My impression is that it contains not only current time thought patterns, but all that ever existed. They are continuous and simultaneous, and it may be that the older radiation is layered over so all one perceives is the current emission.» — y una conjetura marcada como tal —dice que es su impresión—: que la banda contendría no solo el pensamiento actual sino todo el que existió, en capas.

«To study it objectively, if one is so foolhardy as to want to do so, all one needs do is move to that state of disassociation just beyond the last vestiges of any direct Earth-related Human Mind activity in the nonphysical There. It appears much like a reflective layer, beyond which the effects diminish rapidly. Passing through it quickly is advisable, just as one would try to work through a screaming, angry mob—for that is what it sounds like, in a multitude of accents and tongues.» — cómo describe el paso por esa capa y qué recomienda: cruzarla rápido, porque suena a turba furiosa gritando en multitud de acentos y lenguas.

«Now back to my INSPEC friend. Here is an excerpt from one of our earlier meetings when I had phased out of my body and moved to a point just beyond the H Band.» — Monroe declara que lo que sigue es un extracto de una sesión, no relato: es la marca de transcripción que separa su voz de la del interlocutor.

«You will become accustomed to the light. You have the same radiation to us … and we are not the extraterrestrials as you mean it.» — la primera respuesta del INSPEC en esa transcripción, y su primer desmentido: no son los extraterrestres en el sentido en que él lo entiende.

«What you call the core self does remember.» — el INSPEC introduce el término que Monroe desarrollará después, el *core self*, y le atribuye memoria propia.

«It is good that you do not express fear. We can do much when that barrier is removed.» — y la condición que el interlocutor pone al intercambio: sin la barrera del miedo se puede hacer mucho.

«a brightly glowing figure that some people would interpret as a god, an angel, or at the very least some extraterrestrial. Yet we are here talking just like two ordinary people … except that we are not using words!» — cómo describe Monroe a su interlocutor y qué lecturas ajenas anticipa —dios, ángel o extraterrestre—, frente a lo que él dice tener delante: una conversación ordinaria sin palabras.

«The words and rituals are meaningless. It is the thought … the emotion … that is the signal. If the proper signal is given, we are able to help.» — la respuesta del INSPEC a la pregunta por la meditación y el rezo, que vale como desestimación del ritual: lo que funciona de señal es el pensamiento y la emoción, no la fórmula.

«Are you the one, or one of those who may have created us … the Earth? No. We are sorry to disappoint you. But we can give you what we have in regard to the creative process.» — la negativa que el interlocutor opone a ser identificado con un creador, y lo que ofrece en su lugar: lo que tenga sobre el proceso creativo. Se ficha como abstención, no como doctrina.

«This I knew as a ROTE, short for Related Organized Thought Energy, a sort of ball of condensed thought and ideas.» — la definición del *ROTE* en este volumen, con las mismas palabras del anterior: Related Organized Thought Energy, una bola de pensamiento e ideas condensados.

«That is indeed a noble goal. It is the ever-present desire of your human self to attain perfection. When you are no longer human, desire focuses in another direction. But there are other goals.» — cómo el INSPEC desmonta la meta de servir a la humanidad sin negarla: la llama noble y la remite al deseo humano de perfección, que cambia de dirección cuando se deja de ser humano.

«The return to the physical was uneventful. The signal had been generated not by the usual full bladder but by my favorite cat lying on the pillow beside my head. I was sure I had checked the room but somehow she must have sneaked in. In my excitement, I wasn’t in the least irritated.» — el remate doméstico con que cierra el episodio: la señal de regreso no fue la vejiga llena de siempre sino su gata en la almohada, y dice no haberse irritado.

«So I took a very hard look. To help someone else live better while in physical form is open to serious possibilities as to motivation. The implication surfaces that any such action cannot help but be or become tainted with drives from what I think of as the Animal Sub-Self, brought about by existence in the Earth Life System. This is the very essence of the process.» — la sospecha que dirige contra su propia meta: cualquier ayuda prestada dentro del cuerpo físico queda teñida por lo que llama el *Animal Sub-Self*, producido por la existencia en el Earth Life System.

«I realized that the prime fallacy lay in a simple fact. Whatever I did, whatever I wrote, whatever I said, would have little if any effect upon human destiny. It was good to be of service to those around me, but this was no more than passing ego-gratification. Two generations later it would all be forgotten, footprints in the sand washed away by the tides of time.» — y la falacia que se imputa: nada de lo que escriba o diga afectará al destino humano, y el servicio inmediato no pasa de gratificación pasajera del ego.

«The INSPEC was right. There had to be other, broader goals. My search for a broad goal that drives every human brought out one that was all too obvious. The nostalgia, the yearning to go Home. It could be the physical place where you were born and raised, the house where you lived, the town, the city, the countryside. This could be no more than the homing instinct that is present with variations in virtually all animal species. Or it could be the many forms set forth in assorted religious beliefs.» — la meta que pone en su lugar, y de la que ofrece lecturas alternativas: la nostalgia de volver a *Home*, que podría no ser más que instinto de retorno animal o las formas que le dan las creencias religiosas.

«It might well be that much of our scientific endeavor is inspired unconsciously by such motivation. The rationale that billions spent on astronomy, space probes, radio telescopes, and the like will affect our lives constructively in the predictable future is a very thin premise. The unconscious desire to find Home fits much better.» — su lectura de la empresa científica, dicha en condicional: astronomía, sondas y radiotelescopios se explicarían mejor por el deseo inconsciente de hallar *Home* que por el beneficio previsible.

«Eagerly I took what was a Known to me. My memory was very vivid as to my source. My new goal became to go and be in what I construed as Home. Twice I had been there for short visits many years ago. All that I had learned while being human might be of immense value if I returned. Such information could indeed effect major changes. It was a joyous concept and I reveled in it.» — la meta que adopta con esa base: ir a *Home* y quedarse, apoyado en dos visitas breves de años atrás y en el valor que atribuye a lo aprendido como humano.

«Your wish is to return Home. Yes, that is a different goal.» — el INSPEC acepta el cambio de meta y lo llama distinto, no superior.

«You are being human when your fundamental focus remains fixed within such concepts of consciousness. If you change this fundamental, you are no longer human.» — y la definición de lo humano que le devuelve, puesta en el foco y no en el cuerpo: se es humano mientras el foco fundamental permanece fijo en esos conceptos de conciencia.

«But I retain all of my human memory and experience in whatever state of being. Yes. You have learned much. This experience is of great value as a nonhuman. It is one of the basic purposes for your sojourn. You will draw upon it in many ways nonhuman, but your attention will be in another direction. The graduate from the human experience is very respected elsewhere.» — la respuesta del INSPEC a la pregunta por la memoria: la experiencia humana no se pierde al dejar de ser humano, se añade, y quien se gradúa de ella goza de respeto en otra parte. Es voz del interlocutor, no de Monroe.

«You will be as you were before, but the human experience will be added.» — la fórmula con que el interlocutor resuelve la contradicción entre volver a *Home* y dejar de ser humano: se vuelve a ser lo que se era, con la experiencia humana sumada.

«As you are now, time does not exist.» — y la corrección que le hace cuando él aplaza el retorno a un ciclo futuro: en el estado en que está no hay tiempo.

«Stretch your mind to there, what you know Home to be. Then release from here and you will be there. I will observe and assist if needed.» — la instrucción operativa que el INSPEC le da para el viaje, y el papel que se reserva: observar y asistir si hace falta.

«I thought of Home as strongly as I could, and released as the INSPEC told me. There was sensation of movement … a sound like the wind flowing around me. Before me … around me … the scene came into view» — cómo describe Monroe la ejecución de esa instrucción y el tránsito: sensación de movimiento y un sonido como de viento alrededor.

«many-hued cloud towers, just as I remember, only they are not clouds … flowing in shades of glowing color, every color I ever thought of and some I only remember but can’t express … let me just stop in the cloud and watch, feel … not seeing, but feeling» — la primera parte de la descripción de *Home*, con su límite dicho dentro: colores que solo recuerda y no puede expresar, y una percepción que corrige de ver a sentir.

«and there is the music … a thousand instruments, thousands of voices … melody weaving upon melody … perfect counterpoint, the harmonic patterns I know so well. Just stretch out and let the clouds enfold me, and the music is all around me, inside me» — y la segunda: música de mil instrumentos y miles de voces en contrapunto, con patrones armónicos que dice reconocer.

«a little worm intrudes upon my ecstasy … Is something wrong? No, it’s not a signal to return to my body. But what? What’s wrong with the clouds? Watch carefully … there, the large bright blue, followed by two smaller yellow ones … It’s familiar! Others, and they are familiar too … What? That’s exactly the same cloud frame … and the others, they are all the same! It keeps repeating, over and over again—the same patterns in a repeating loop!» — el giro del episodio, y es el hallazgo del capítulo: lo que interrumpe el éxtasis no es una señal de regreso sino la constatación de que las nubes se repiten en bucle.

«The worm, my analytical worm, gets larger. The music, check the music … it can’t be … but yes, it’s repeating … the same as I felt an hour or an eternity ago … exactly the same. Let me try another spot, another perspective … move to another part of Home» — Monroe nombra a lo que le arruina la escena su gusano analítico, y lo aplica también a la música: también se repite.

«There, that ought to do it. No, it’s still the same … nothing new, nothing different. The same pattern over and over, the same clouds, the same music … Let me go in deeper» — y el resultado de mover el punto de observación dentro de *Home*: ningún cambio, el mismo patrón, las mismas nubes, la misma música.

«There they are, a bunch of curls, curls of energy playing games. That’s more like it! I was such a curl once … let me join in the game! Round and round … up and down … in and out … round and round … up and down … in and out … The game is like an endless loop … round and round … up and down … No more, that’s enough for me, that’s enough.» — el último intento, jugar con los rizos de energía que dice haber sido: también resulta un bucle sin fin, y lo deja.

«Where do I go now? Where …? That’s all there is! There isn’t any more. But I don’t want to lie around in the same clouds forever, with the same music over and over … I don’t want to play the same game over and over … How could I have dreamed of» — la conclusión que saca sobre el lugar al que quería volver: eso es todo lo que hay, y no quiere pasar la eternidad en la misma nube con la misma música.

«There’s nothing here for me now … nothing at all. Now I remember … this happened to me before. This is why I left … and I can’t come back! I don’t want to come back!» — y el recuerdo que le devuelve el episodio: ya le había pasado antes, y por eso se fue. La meta de volver a *Home* queda desactivada por su propia experiencia, no por argumento ajeno.

«There was a feeling of movement, with the wind around me again. Then silence … then fading easily into my physical body. I opened my eyes and looked through the tears. Nothing in the moonlit bedroom had changed. But I had.» — cómo cierra el regreso, con la fórmula de todo el libro: nada en el dormitorio había cambiado, pero él sí.

«I was unable to get to sleep for several hours, too stimulated, too depressed.» — y el saldo que consigna, sin adorno: varias horas sin poder dormir, demasiado estimulado y demasiado deprimido.

«It took me many weeks to adjust to the idea that I would no longer be able to go Home. I had thought I would be returning to a hero’s welcome, bringing back valuable information from Here to change and improve There. But it was not to be.» — lo que le costó aceptar que *Home* ya no era una opción, y qué había esperado de ese regreso: una bienvenida de héroe y información valiosa que llevar de aquí para allá.

«I made no attempt to try to go Home again. I recognized finally and sadly that this option no longer existed for me. It became much on the order of a childhood recollection; something to hold dear as it was, but not to relive. Clearly much ego and ego-gratification were involved.» — la renuncia, y el juicio que se aplica a sí mismo: en aquel proyecto había mucho ego y mucha gratificación del ego.

«But one Known did emerge. I knew why I had left.» — y lo único que se lleva del fracaso, dicho en el vocabulario del libro: un *Known*, saber por qué se había ido.

«The sense of loss will pass. It is not lost because you remember.» — la respuesta del INSPEC a la pérdida, en la transcripción de Monroe: no está perdido porque se recuerda.

«It is the reality of returning that does not exist. You need to release the illusion that you could do so.» — y la corrección precisa que le hace el interlocutor: lo que no existe no es *Home* sino la realidad del regreso, y hay que soltar esa ilusión.

«That energy pattern … you did not learn that from being human. No. That is why I left Home, the limiting factor of repetition. There was no growth, nothing new to learn or experience. You learn all the time in living on Earth—change and new learning go on constantly. But the fact that I can’t go back Home will take getting used to. It is not easy to handle.» — Monroe explica de qué se fue: del factor limitante de la repetición, sin crecimiento ni nada nuevo que aprender, y contrapone que en la Tierra el cambio y el aprendizaje son constantes.

«Yet you will adjust. Just as you will when you reach a point where you recognize that you can no longer return to being human. Perhaps it is better put that you not only cannot but you do not need to do so when you have outgrown what you call the human coat and glove.» — el interlocutor le anticipa que la misma renuncia le espera con lo humano, y matiza la fórmula: no es que no pueda volver, es que no lo necesitará cuando el abrigo y el guante le queden chicos.

«You will know instead of merely believing, as you are fond of saying.» — y cómo el INSPEC le devuelve su propia distinción entre creer y saber, señalando que es fórmula suya.

«Things for me changed greatly after this meeting. I became aware of another, wider goal: to grow and evolve somehow into the awe-inspiring yet warm being that I happily called my INSPEC. With this desire and decision, I accepted the gentle encouragement that was being offered. The result was a strange mixture of peace and excitement, simple and complex at the same time, a form of knowing and belonging beyond description.» — la meta nueva que adopta tras ese encuentro: crecer hasta ser lo que llama su INSPEC, con una mezcla de paz y excitación que declara indescriptible.

«This was heightened exponentially when I was escorted on a short visit to the fringes of INSPEC space at my request. Although I was able to perceive very little other than the massive empathy and love that radiated through me, there was also the strong impression of many beings in happy residence. There was even a flow of newcomers joining this community which I felt as Layered Intelligence-Forming Energy (LIFE). The strange part was that it seemed like a new home to me, as if I already knew the residents. Yet it was more than knowing. It was as if I were a part of them and they of me.» — la visita a los bordes del espacio INSPEC y el término que introduce ahí: *LIFE*, Layered Intelligence-Forming Energy, con la percepción de haber pertenecido ya a esa comunidad. Reconoce percibir muy poco fuera de la empatía y el amor que lo atraviesan.

«The combination of excitement and serenity there left me bemused. Why could there not be some way that humans living on Earth could exist in such harmony? At the next meeting, I brought the question to my INSPEC friend as we drifted beyond the outer edge of the rings that make up what I was later to realize were the Belief System Territories, parts of the (M) Field spectrum adjacent to the Earth Life System where many Human Minds reside after completing physical life experiences. We could perceive the Earth in the center with semitransparent radiant globes around it, each larger and thinner as the distance increased. It took some effort to recognize that we were “seeing” the nonphysical energies in the structure rather than electrons and molecules.» — aquí se definen dos piezas del mapa del volumen: los *Belief System Territories* como anillos donde residen mentes humanas tras la vida física, y el espectro del campo (M) del que forman parte; advierte que lo que se ve son energías no físicas, no electrones ni moléculas.

«It is interesting that your civilization knows nothing of this aspect of the structure, as you put it. I wonder if they ever will. Not in the completeness that you would wish.» — el intercambio en que el INSPEC descarta que la civilización llegue a conocer esa estructura como Monroe querría. Se ficha la negativa como la da el interlocutor, sin suavizarla.

«If they did know this, it might clean up the mess. So much of it seems without purpose. The pain, the suffering, the violent emotions. It is very hard to accept that mess as a design of some sort.» — la objeción que Monroe pone en su propia voz: dolor, sufrimiento y emociones violentas, difíciles de aceptar como parte de un diseño.

«Perhaps you will have what you call a Different Overview when your opportunity comes.» — y la respuesta, que no resuelve la objeción sino que la aplaza a que le llegue su oportunidad.

«It might be helpful to you to visit the potential of states of being that are very different from the one you are experiencing. For example, to visit an era where human organization is different and conforms more to the way you believe it should be.» — la propuesta del INSPEC que abre el episodio del valle: visitar una época de organización humana distinta, más conforme a como él cree que debería ser.

«You already know it. It is the same as the one you used to move to what you called Home. It is only the destination that is not a part of your knowledge.» — y la mecánica del viaje, según el interlocutor: la técnica es la misma que usó para ir a *Home*, y lo único que no conoce es el destino.

«We were some thousand feet over a wide valley, which appeared to be eight to ten miles long and about five miles wide. Snowcapped peaks surrounded the valley on three sides. Beyond the open side were forests and fields extending to the horizon. A bright sun hung in a blue sky studded with small cumulus clouds.» — la descripción del sitio adonde llega, con medidas: un valle de ocho a diez millas de largo por cinco de ancho, cerrado por picos nevados en tres lados.

«Directly below us was what appeared to be a large settlement stretching nearly to the base of the mountains. There was a mass of trees of a variety of shapes and sizes with variegated foliage in every possible shade of green. Among the trees was a complex and extensive network of narrow paths. But there were no houses or buildings, no smoke or smog. The air was totally clean and clear.» — y del asentamiento: árboles y una red de senderos estrechos, sin casas ni edificios, sin humo ni esmog.

«Sleeping quarters are underground, and the places for artisan activity. Where are all the people? They are among the trees. Each is performing an individual function. How many are there? Just over two million, as we understand it.» — lo que el INSPEC contesta a las preguntas de infraestructura y censo: dormitorios y talleres bajo tierra, gente entre los árboles y algo más de dos millones de habitantes, con la reserva de que es lo que ellos entienden.

«It is indeed and it is the only such place. These are the only humans in residence.» — y el dato que vuelve inquietante la escena: es la Tierra, y ésos son los únicos humanos que la habitan.

«This is a place of the past, as you express time. The past! There is nothing in our history that remotely resembles this! It must be very far back. It is. Nearly a million of your years.» — el giro que corrige la lectura natural del episodio: no es un futuro posible sino el pasado, casi un millón de años atrás. Monroe objeta que nada en la historia conocida se le parece.

«The inhabitants … are they human? Such as I am? Slightly different but definitely human.» — y cómo el interlocutor clasifica a sus habitantes, con la salvedad puesta: ligeramente distintos, pero humanos sin duda.

«You do feel it. Just as you are able to see, in a physical manner. But you are not physical.» — la aclaración del INSPEC sobre el estatuto perceptivo de la visita: se siente y se ve a la manera física sin ser físico.

«Walking rapidly toward us were four people. They seemed about five feet tall, each with a different tone color of hair and skin. Their hair was uniform in length, just below their ears. Their faces and bodies were those of active, athletic thirty-year-olds, but without bulging muscles. Two were men and two were women. It was easy to tell, because they wore no clothes.» — la descripción de los cuatro habitantes que salen a su encuentro: metro y medio, cada uno de un tono distinto de pelo y piel, cuerpos de treintañeros atléticos, sin ropa.

«They have no need for clothes. What about keeping warm? Or protection from the weather? Each has an individual control system for that purpose. I don’t see anything. It’s all in the mind, as you would say.» — y cómo el INSPEC explica esa desnudez: cada uno lleva su propio sistema de control térmico, que no se ve porque está en la mente.

«“We absorbed it from your mind. No problem.” Then I noted that his lips had not moved, and saw the twinkle in his eyes. We both laughed—mentally. I had found a new friend who could read minds, probably every last bit of what I thought or felt. From then on, all of the talk was mental—thought transference, you might call it.» — el momento en que Monroe advierte que la conversación no es hablada: los labios del interlocutor no se mueven y todo el intercambio pasa a ser mental.

«The weather is very pleasant. We stir up a thunderstorm every afternoon to clean off the leaves and provide water for the plants.” “With lightning?” “Yes, but we direct the intensity and where it will make contact. The electrical charge is vital to all carbon-based life.”» — lo que los habitantes del valle dicen hacer con el clima, en voz suya: una tormenta cada tarde, con el rayo dirigido en intensidad y punto de contacto porque la carga eléctrica les resulta vital para la vida basada en carbono.

«You come from a strange world! Do you really have difficulty maintaining your physical body?”» — y cómo devuelven el asombro: al oír que mantener el cuerpo físico es la dificultad mayor de Monroe, es el mundo de él el que les parece extraño.

«I understand what you are saying. The bugs and viruses work with us, Robert. There is no conflict. As for being killed … we stopped what you call dying long ago.”» — la afirmación más fuerte que el capítulo pone en boca de los habitantes del valle: los microbios y los virus trabajan con ellos, sin conflicto, y hace mucho que dejaron lo que Monroe llama morir.

«A series of different whistles sounded in my head, like songs of birds, almost a form of music. Out of the trees came several kinds of animals, large and small, all bounding up to the four people, who rubbed and patted them. Some resembled cats, others were reptilian, like small alligators and large snakes. Others were monkey-like, and still others could have been deer, but with long manes and tails. A swarm of huge bees surged out of a tree and made diving, playful swoops past our group. Overhead, a pair of large, brilliant green birds soared in circles, looking down at us. A small blue bird dropped down on my friend’s shoulder and chirped in his ear.» — cómo los habitantes del valle llaman a sus animales, en el relato de Monroe: una serie de silbidos que él oye dentro de la cabeza, casi música, y salen gatos, reptiles, monos, ciervos de melena larga, abejas enormes y aves verdes.

«“I would like to call my own animals children so easily.” “You will remember the sound, and with practice you can.”» — y lo que le contestan cuando dice querer llamar así a los suyos: recordará el sonido y con práctica podrá.

«Only here in the valley. The rest is much what you would expect, from reading your books. You know of the food chain system?” “I do. So the animals die.” “Yes, in the natural order of events. So do these, our children. A balance is achieved and we do not disturb it.”» — el límite que ellos mismos ponen a su excepción: solo en el valle es así, el resto de la Tierra sigue la cadena alimentaria, y sus propios animales mueren en el orden natural sin que ellos perturben ese equilibrio.

«My friend turned to one of the females in the group, who stepped over to a garden plot and scooped up what appeared to be simple black dirt. She brought a handful back and stood beside us. Suddenly I knew what was going to happen. “Would you like some of your favorite corn, silver queen, as you call it?” I nodded. The girl stared at me intently, then put her other hand palm-down over the handful of dirt, still holding me steadily in her gaze. I knew she was reading my mind. After a moment, she lifted her hand and uncovered a pale-white and perfect miniature ear of corn. She held it out to me.» — el episodio con que muestran de qué se alimentan: una de ellas recoge tierra negra, le lee la mente y descubre en la palma una mazorca de maíz blanco, la variedad que él llama silver queen.

«“He can’t take it,” said my friend. “He doesn’t have a physical body with him.”» — y el remate que le devuelve su condición: no puede tomarla, porque no lleva cuerpo físico consigo.

«I sensed the girl’s laughter as she turned and tossed it to one of the little brown fawns, who sniffed at it suspiciously. They do have laughter, I registered, so they must have emotion.» — la inferencia que Monroe deja anotada en el momento, como razonamiento y no como dato: tienen risa, luego tienen emoción.

«We have experienced every emotion you can remember, Robert.» — la confirmación que le dan en su propia voz, antes de acotarla; la frase sigue en la plana siguiente.

«We treasure emotion, but it controls us only when we let it.”» — y ahí la acotación, que es la posición del valle sobre la emoción: la aprecian, y solo los gobierna cuando lo permiten.

«“We do have competition. But we never get so involved that we forget it is a game.”» — cómo corrigen la idealización que Monroe les atribuye: competencia hay, y lo que no hacen es olvidar que es un juego.

«I did not ask about love. There was no need to. The radiation from the four of them was evidence enough. But there was a tinge of sadness mixed with excitement.» — lo que Monroe declara no haber preguntado y por qué, y el matiz que percibe y todavía no se explica: tristeza mezclada con excitación.

«Your visit is well timed, for we will be leaving very shortly. We have to adjust to be without our valley and our children.”» — de dónde venía esa tristeza: están por marcharse y tienen que acostumbrarse a quedarse sin el valle y sin sus animales.

«“We received the Signal nearly a hundred years ago. We had waited several thousand years for it, and it finally came.”» — el concepto que organiza el resto del episodio, en voz de ellos: la Señal, recibida hace cerca de un siglo tras varios miles de años de espera.

«“It is rather that you don’t remember. You will, when it is time for you and yours. We have experienced and known all the patterns of change in our part of this physical universe. We have gone to the stars and back, moving just the way you are doing. We found nothing that we did not have here, nothing truly new.”» — y por qué se van, dicho sin misticismo: recorrieron las estrellas moviéndose como él se mueve y no hallaron nada que no tuvieran ya.

«“Why would we leave anyone behind? Would you leave your hand, or even a finger?”» — cómo despachan la pregunta de si se van todos, con la imagen del cuerpo: nadie deja atrás una mano ni un dedo.

«“It is made by arrangement.” “By arrangement with whom? Or what?” “With one of us who went ahead. They all agreed to send us the special Signal when it was time for us to follow. One finally did so after these many years.”» — qué es la Señal según ellos: un arreglo previo con uno de los suyos que se adelantó, comprometido a avisar cuando fuera hora de seguirlo.

«“Not to conquer, Robert. To be in and to understand.”» — la corrección que le hacen cuando él los llama exploradores en busca de mundos que conquistar: no conquistar, estar en ellos y entenderlos.

«“Oh yes. It has been with us continuously since we first perceived it.” “Why don’t I perceive it too?” “I do not know. Perhaps your attunement is different.”» — y una abstención que se ficha como tal: no saben por qué Monroe no percibe la Señal, y conjeturan que su sintonía sea otra.

«“It was necessary to train our animal children to live without us. Now that we have completed this, we are in the process of saying goodbye to all of them. We cannot nor would we take them with us.”» — lo que los retuvo un siglo, y es lo más concreto que dicen de sí mismos: entrenar a sus animales para vivir sin ellos, porque no pueden ni querrían llevárselos.

«“We shall. I could tell you more … but that would, as you might say, spoil the fun.”» — la despedida, con una reticencia declarada: podrían decirle más y no lo hacen para no arruinarle la diversión.

«You found them interesting, did you not? They were much like humans in the future that I have met before. Except that those were living just outside of Earth, not in it.» — el contraste que Monroe traza al volver con el INSPEC: se parecían a los humanos del futuro que dice haber conocido antes, salvo que aquéllos vivían fuera de la Tierra y éstos en ella.

«Because of your love of animals, we felt you would sense a kinship.» — y el motivo que el INSPEC declara para haberlo llevado justamente ahí: su afición a los animales.

«Some would look upon you as a … a pest. Yes, a pest. But you have told me I am indestructible! I cannot be harmed! That is so.» — la advertencia del INSPEC sobre el trato que puede recibir de otras inteligencias —lo verían como una plaga— junto a la ratificación de que es indestructible; las dos cosas conviven sin resolverse.

«Suddenly a series of beats pounded into my awareness, like a succession of electric shocks. They were not severe, but irritating, demanding. I could only interpret them as a sort of computerese, a binary code. But what was communicating was a living organism, of that I was sure.» — el primer contacto con la inteligencia no humana del episodio siguiente: pulsos como descargas que él solo acierta a leer como código binario, y que atribuye a un organismo vivo.

«The beats continued, thudding into my head. I could not read them, so I tried to send my own weak version of nonverbal communication. I thought of an inner model of our solar system, then mentally pushed an arrow emerging from the third planet and ending where I was. This produced in response a long succession of beats—they reminded me of a primitive form of Morse code but did not translate into letters. But as my mind became accustomed to them, a picture began to form … a flaming sun, with an arrow pointing not from it, but into it. Was that where we were now?» — cómo intenta responder y qué obtiene: dibuja mentalmente el sistema solar con una flecha desde el tercer planeta, y recibe algo parecido a un código Morse primitivo que acaba formando la imagen de un sol con la flecha entrando en él.

«The beats stopped. Then a short pattern began and repeated. Was that affirmative—did it mean yes? The pattern repeated. It seemed a safe assumption. I created and sent a picture of myself in a physical body, followed by a rising inflection. This produced a different pattern in reply—negative, I assumed.» — la reconstrucción del protocolo, marcada por él mismo con sus conjeturas: supone que un patrón corto repetido es afirmativo y otro distinto, negativo.

«“Are you interested in who and what I am?” Negative again. “But you understand me?” Positive this time, if I interpreted correctly.» — y el saldo del intercambio, que Monroe no adorna: la entidad lo entiende y no tiene interés en quién ni qué es.

«You were in communication with but a small part of the whole.» — cómo el INSPEC redimensiona ese contacto: era con una parte pequeña del conjunto, no con el conjunto.

«But there are some who do communicate with such entities. I wonder if I will ever be able to. I believe you may, if you so desire.» — y lo que le concede sobre la posibilidad de comunicarse con entidades así, en condicional: cree que podrá si lo desea.

«You are presuming that I am not of physical matter and that I am human.» — la única vez del capítulo en que el INSPEC le devuelve una presuposición sin contestarla: que él no es materia física y que es humano.

«Somehow I sense you did have a physical body, but not now. You’re too free. You have never said you were once human, but I suspect you were. For one thing, you have a sense of humor. Sly and satirical, but it’s there. Very human stuff.» — y el indicio con que Monroe sospecha que su interlocutor fue humano, dicho con humor: tiene sentido del humor, socarrón y satírico.

«A man who lived nearby died—or exited as I preferred to regard it— following a heart attack and his family asked me if I could locate and contact him. On my next visit to my INSPEC friend I asked for help with this but I was told such access was not possible at this time. A report in the form of a ROTE was all that could be obtained and I accepted this as satisfactory in the circumstances» — cómo abre Monroe el capítulo, y es una negativa que se ficha como tal: la familia de un vecino muerto de un infarto le pide localizarlo y el INSPEC le dice que ese acceso no es posible por ahora; lo único que obtiene es un informe en forma de *ROTE*. Nótese el término con que prefiere nombrar la muerte, *exited*.

«I asked the INSPEC if I could be shown one nonphysical, nonhuman intelligence which I could talk with easily. Somewhat to my surprise, my friend offered to lead me to one and we set off through the darkness» — la petición con que arranca el episodio, en su voz: que le muestren una sola inteligencia no física y no humana con la que pueda conversar sin dificultad.

«Just twenty feet above me and stretching for what seemed to be miles was a huge, circular, saucer-shaped object, a typical “flying saucer” as so often described, but a thousand times larger. Much too big to credit—but as I had that thought, it shrank instantly to some two hundred feet in diameter» — la descripción del objeto y el detalle que él mismo consigna como reacción a su propia incredulidad: al pensar que era demasiado grande para creerlo, el platillo se encogió a unos sesenta metros.

«he was an exact replica of the star of so many comic movies I had enjoyed in the physical when I was young—W. C. Fields! This replica, projection, hologram—whatever it was—spoke like Fields as well, with the same intonations and repetitions» — a quién dice tener enfrente, y con qué reservas lo nombra: réplica, proyección u holograma de W. C. Fields, el actor de las películas cómicas de su juventud.

«You really mean it, don’t you … But I’ll keep it if you don’t mind. It helps me to think like a human. Or would you prefer someone else? Groucho Marx, perhaps» — la respuesta de la figura cuando Monroe le pide que abandone la personificación: la conserva porque le ayuda a pensar como humano, y le ofrece cambiarla por Groucho Marx.

«My boy, I’m an exporter.” “I see. What do you have that we need—apart from this spaceship?” “I must have used the term wrong. I export from here, not to, my friend» — lo que la figura declara ser, corrigiendo el sentido que Monroe le da a la palabra: exporta desde aquí, no hacia aquí.

«It’s a one-in-a-million product and you humans have it. A sense of humor! Jokes! Fun! The best tonic there is for overloaded mind systems. It auto-erases the tension and pressure almost every time it’s used» — qué dice venir a llevarse, en su voz: el sentido del humor, producto de uno en un millón y el mejor tónico para sistemas mentales sobrecargados.

«You humans catch sight of our collection units every now and then and get the wrong idea. You even make UFO jokes about us! All we want to do is look and listen—nothing else. Apart from the odd practical joke—just to keep in training» — y cómo el propio interlocutor explica los avistamientos: son sus unidades de recolección, mal interpretadas, y lo único que hacen es mirar y escuchar, salvo alguna broma ocasional. La lectura del ovni queda desmontada desde dentro del relato.

«Now I knew that at least humans have one unique quality. You managed that well. But there is another matter that occupies your mind. You have a hidden desire that you are trying to express» — lo que Monroe se lleva del encuentro —una cualidad humana única— y cómo el INSPEC le señala enseguida un deseo que no ha formulado.

«The most mature and evolved human in physical earth, living in your time reference. That is so. Can it be done? Yes, but the result may not be what you expect» — el deseo que el INSPEC nombra por él y la reserva con que acepta cumplirlo: el resultado puede no ser el que espera.

«But it was the radiation that stunned me. It was like standing in bright spring sunlight that was filled with every human emotion that ever existed. It was almost overwhelming—and yet familiar. It was equally balanced. One moment it was male, then I was sure it was female. A true equal—a He/She. Heshe» — cómo describe a la persona que encuentra y de dónde sale el nombre que le pone: una radiación igualmente balanceada entre lo masculino y lo femenino, un *He/She* que abrevia como Heshe.

«You insist others obtain their own answers. Why should you be different?” This struck home. It was as if my bluff had been called. “You’re right. What I’m really interested in is you, not answers to my questions» — la objeción con que Heshe le devuelve su propia doctrina, y que Monroe consigna como farol descubierto: si él exige que cada quien obtenga sus respuestas, por qué habría de ser distinto.

«Yet … you have lived only one physical lifetime. You have not been recycled, like the rest of us. But … how do I know these things?” “You are reading my mind.” “Only a part of it, and with your permission, I’m sure. One continuous lifetime, for eighteen hundred years» — el rasgo que Monroe dice leer en la mente de Heshe y que lo separa del resto: una sola vida física continuada, sin reciclaje, de mil ochocientos años.

«I keep changing jobs. That keeps anyone young. Is that a good answer» — y la respuesta que Heshe le da a la pregunta por su juventud, sin solemnidad: cambiar de trabajo.

«You might call me an organizer, or facilitator, whichever you like.” “With your ability, I would think there is much you can do at this very moment.” “I keep busy.” “What …? No, I can read it … you drive an ambulance, you’re a late-night bartender, a psychiatric counselor … and you’re just on your way to teach history at the university» — a qué se dedica, según él mismo y según lo que Monroe dice leerle: organizador o facilitador, conductor de ambulancia, cantinero nocturno, consejero psiquiátrico y profesor de historia.

«Organizing, naturally. Introducing a Variable, just as you do. Such as this book, or the mind-altering programs you disseminate—all add a Variable into the lives of those who encounter them» — cómo Heshe describe su oficio con el término que da título al primer capítulo: introducir una Variable, igual que hacen el libro de Monroe y sus programas.

«I can give you what you call a ROTE about that, about a plan that doesn’t involve communism or socialism, capitalism or dictatorship» — el contenido del *ROTE* que le entrega, definido por lo que excluye: un plan que no pasa por comunismo, socialismo, capitalismo ni dictadura.

«necessity, not through religions, race, or political beliefs, or force of arms.” “Necessity is severe stuff. The world would have to be in rough shape.” “That is the reason for waiting. The time will come» — por qué vía dice Heshe que llegaría ese esfuerzo mundial —la necesidad reconocida, no la religión, la raza, la política ni las armas— y a qué atribuye la espera; la frase empieza en la plana anterior, cortada por el salto.

«Of course, Ashaneen. And I will be ready for you. You cannot find me again unless I agree» — el nombre con que Heshe se despide de él, Ashaneen, y la condición que le pone al reencuentro: no lo hallará de nuevo si él no lo consiente.

«Heshe had called me Ashaneen. Or was it a clever misdirection, just for the fun of it? Now I look carefully at every stranger who comes to visit us» — y qué hace Monroe con ese nombre, dejando abierta la duda: pista o distracción ingeniosa, y desde entonces mira con cuidado a cada desconocido que los visita.

«I remembered my feeling of awe, and how I had nearly prostrated myself in obeisance that first time. But you did not. Instead, we shook hands» — cómo Monroe recuerda su primer encuentro con el INSPEC y cómo el interlocutor lo corrige en el acto: estuvo a punto de postrarse en obediencia y no lo hizo, se dieron la mano.

«You are doing well now with your tuning process. The vibrational adjustment is no longer needed. You understand me clearly and your thoughts are crisp. And I’m finally able to handle your bright light without shrinking. That is interesting. To me, you have the same radiation» — lo que el INSPEC le reconoce del oficio aprendido —ya no necesita el ajuste vibracional y sus pensamientos llegan nítidos— y la simetría que le devuelve: para él, Monroe irradia lo mismo.

«The mind reading, your reading my thoughts. That took getting used to. You read my thoughts as I read yours» — la reciprocidad de la lectura de pensamiento, puesta por el interlocutor: no es que uno lea al otro, se leen los dos.

«Then you perceive my preoccupation with our world changes. Certainly. However, it is, as you might put it, not our department» — cómo el INSPEC despacha la preocupación de Monroe por los cambios del mundo, y es de las líneas donde el libro marca mejor los límites de su interlocutor: percibe el asunto y dice que no es su departamento.

«There is indeed a reason. In your terms, what we relate becomes only a belief to you. Instead, it is crucial that you know what you seek. We cannot provide such knowing» — la razón que el INSPEC da para no contestar, y se ficha como abstención razonada: lo que ellos relaten solo puede volverse creencia, y el conocer que Monroe necesita no se lo pueden dar.

«But you do have knowledge of all I am encountering—and will encounter? Up to a point. Beyond that point, the information is not available to us» — y el segundo límite, esta vez del propio saber del interlocutor: conoce lo que Monroe encuentra solo hasta cierto punto, y más allá la información tampoco está disponible para ellos.

«Because you are seeking other knowledge, your path is changing. You will be moving in a new direction. We will no longer be able to meet you as we are doing now» — el anuncio que organiza el resto del libro: al buscar otro conocimiento el camino cambia, y esa forma de encuentro se acaba.

«It is the opposite. This coat and this glove, as you put it, will no longer fit that which you need» — cómo el INSPEC niega que Monroe haya hecho algo mal y le devuelve su propia imagen del abrigo y el guante: no le quedan chicos por error sino por lo contrario.

«We shall always be with you. That will not change. But you will alter your polarities. Such communication as this will no longer be needed» — la distinción que hace entre presencia y comunicación: seguirán con él, lo que se vuelve innecesario es este modo de hablarse, porque Monroe va a alterar sus polaridades.

«You have done it already. Your return from what you identified as Home was performed solely by you. You learned as you repolarized to achieve the change. You did remember. You have been using it» — y de dónde saca el INSPEC que ya sabe hacerlo: el regreso desde lo que Monroe llamó *Home* lo ejecutó él solo, repolarizándose, y lo viene usando desde entonces.

«You mean … that method of moving out of and back to the physical? As if in slow motion? What I call a quick switch» — el nombre que Monroe le pone a esa maniobra al reconocerla, y que usará todo el resto del volumen: el *quick switch*, salir y volver al cuerpo como en cámara lenta.

«And there is more. There is also a Basic, an essential knowledge, as you would describe it, that you have yet to discover and explore. We wish you well on your journey» — aquí queda planteado el objeto de la búsqueda que da argumento al libro: un *Basic*, un conocimiento esencial que Monroe todavía no ha descubierto ni explorado.

«The glowing light winked out. I waited alone in the deep blackness for an eternity before, sad and confused, deciding to return» — cómo cierra el capítulo la despedida, en su relato: la luz se apaga y él espera una eternidad a solas en la negrura antes de volver, triste y confundido.

«The feeling of loss was overwhelming. And … a missing Basic? A new direction? But in my loneliness, there was no place to look» — y el saldo con que se queda, que es lo que arrastra al capítulo siguiente: un *Basic* que falta, una dirección nueva y ningún sitio donde buscarlos.

«At first, I found it impossible to get over the loss of my INSPEC friend. I tried many times, in desperation, to meet again at our contact point, but it was empty. There was simply nothing, not even a whisper of energy radiation. The feeling of abandonment and lack of direction was overwhelming» — cómo describe la pérdida del contacto, sin atenuarla: volvió muchas veces al punto de encuentro y no halló ni un susurro de radiación.

«What was needed was a solid baseline of well-tested “knowing” before I could venture into the unknown areas where I hoped to uncover the missing Basic. To begin with, I needed to establish a first priority—a clear understanding of the here and now, of physical life just as it is without philosophical and emotional» — el método que se impone antes de seguir, y es lo que da forma al capítulo: una línea base de saber probado, empezando por entender el aquí y ahora sin coloración filosófica ni emocional; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«When carbon-based life began to appear and expand into various forms, every form had a prime directive: survive. In detail, this meant physical survival in a highly organized and balanced system of reciprocity and symbiosis. Survival of the individual unit guaranteed survival of the species» — la primera pieza de esa línea base: toda forma de vida basada en el carbono trae una directiva primera, sobrevivir, dentro de un sistema de reciprocidad y simbiosis.

«At another level, the Earth itself received a similar instruction, which throws a new light on phenomena such as wind and ocean currents, earthquakes and volcanoes. Thus mother Earth meets many of the criteria for an existent life-form. This implies a mind-consciousness far different from that of the dominant carbon-based species, which had not—and still has not—become aware of this facet of the system» — la extensión que hace de esa directiva a la Tierra misma: viento, corrientes, terremotos y volcanes se leen como conducta de una forma de vida con mente propia, de la que la especie dominante no se ha enterado.

«Survival was and is the first law of the system. In order to survive, each life-form needed to absorb its own daily quota of nutrients. Those that for whatever reason were unable to do this either mutated or became extinct» — la ley primera del sistema, dicha como ley: sobrevivir, absorbiendo la cuota diaria de nutrientes, o mutar, o extinguirse.

«The Earth Life System was and still is an exquisitely self-adjusting, autotuning, self-regenerating organization of energy» — cómo califica al conjunto: una organización de energía exquisitamente autoajustable, autoafinable y autorregenerativa.

«Each and every living unit competes for the basics of physical survival: food, water, oxygen, warmth, and sunlight. Often this translates into living space, on and in the ground, in the water, in the air. We have various names for this: territorial imperative, room, home, lair, den, hunting preserve, personal property, real estate, cities, nations. Life-forms fight for these, and die for them» — por qué se compite, y la lista de nombres que la competencia recibe cuando se traduce a espacio vital: imperativo territorial, hogar, guarida, coto de caza, propiedad, bienes raíces, ciudades y naciones.

«On entry into the Earth Life System, each life-form is imprinted, probably through DNA, with a prime directive: survive! This is the underlying drive behind every action taken by the participants. The goal is survival of the species, expressed first as survival of the individual unit. This directive is geared specifically and limited to physical existence, with no other implications. Success equals physical survival. Failure equals nonsurvival or physical nonexistence—death. Fear equals the possibility of nonsurvival» — el primer punto de su línea base, con la ecuación que lo cierra: la directiva va impresa probablemente en el ADN, se limita a la existencia física, y el miedo equivale a la posibilidad de no sobrevivir.

«The Earth Life System is impersonal in that each life-form competes with all others for life-maintaining nutrients. This competition takes place both between species and within the species itself. Cooperation among and within species is standard operating procedure; the system often forces cooperation as a necessity for survival. The whole is a system of predation» — el segundo punto, donde la cooperación no contradice a la depredación sino que la sirve: el sistema fuerza a menudo la cooperación como necesidad de supervivencia, y el conjunto sigue siendo un sistema de depredación.

«Any awareness not related to physical survival is denigrated. Any emotion expressed is an aberration as it does not relate to the prime survival directive. Fear is not treated as an emotion» — el tercer punto, con una clasificación que conviene retener porque el libro la usará después: dentro del sistema la emoción es aberración, y el miedo no cuenta como emoción.

«The basic pattern of the system is change. Stasis is entropy. Entropy is death. Thus imbalance is constant, which creates a steady adaptive response at all levels. Polarization or differential is an integral force at work throughout the system» — el cuarto punto, que es su definición de la dinámica: el patrón básico es el cambio, la estasis es entropía y la entropía es muerte, de modo que el desequilibrio es constante.

«For our Different Overview, the Earth Life System is seen as a food chain predator system, although it is rarely accepted as such. It may appear chaotic and complex, but it is organized and operates under a few simple rules: Grow and exist as long as you can. Get what you need to exist. Maintain your species by reproducing» — cómo queda el sistema visto desde el *Different Overview* —un sistema depredador de cadena alimentaria, rara vez aceptado como tal— reducido a tres reglas: crecer y existir mientras se pueda, conseguir lo necesario y mantener la especie reproduciéndose.

«There are no limitations or conditions in applying these rules. Strength, speed, deception, sharp sensory awareness and response, all are great assets. Symbiosis and parasitic patterns are highly acceptable. Honor, ethics, empathy, and the like are nonexistent. Every participant is a predator and the process cannot be altered or changed as long as the Earth Life System exists. Survival is difficult if not impossible without predatory action» — y el corolario duro que saca de esas reglas: honor, ética y empatía no existen en el sistema, todo participante es depredador, y el proceso no se altera mientras el sistema exista.

«Amid the smooth-running, efficient process of the Earth Life System, an unusual spark appeared in one life-form. It could have happened to any one of thousands of other species, but why it happened to this one no one as yet knows» — cómo introduce a la especie humana en el relato, bajo el rótulo de *The Aliens* y declarando lo que no sabe: una chispa inusual en una forma de vida, sin que nadie sepa todavía por qué en ésa.

«This newly modified species found it difficult to survive in the early stages. Its design forced it to develop its own unique methods. It was comparatively hairless, except on its head, which meant it had to take special action to get protection from cold, heat, and the bites and claws of others. It had neither fangs nor claws, which was a major disadvantage in self-protection and aggressive food gathering. It had no tail, which meant it could not climb trees to escape attack and, more important, it lacked this means of expressing emotion. Two legs instead of four brought unbalance, ungainliness, and a vertical spinal column that was originally designed to be horizontal. Finally, it possessed an addition to its animal brain, somewhat resembling a tumor, that really made the difference» — el inventario de desventajas con que describe al recién llegado —lampiño, sin colmillos ni garras, sin cola, bípedo con la columna mal orientada— y lo único que lo compensa, un añadido al cerebro animal que compara con un tumor.

«Hundreds of thousands more years passed before they became aware—or some of them did—that they were indeed more than just another animal. But some still regard their species as no more than intelligent animals» — y el desacuerdo que deja abierto sin resolverlo: unos llegaron a saberse más que otro animal, y algunos siguen teniendo a la especie por animales inteligentes y nada más.

«Yet in a relatively short time it came to dominate all others. The only area that stayed resistant was Earth energy itself. The basic patterns of land, air, water, and fire remained, for the most part, uncontrolled and unchanged» — el único límite que le reconoce a ese dominio: la energía terrestre misma, con sus patrones de tierra, aire, agua y fuego, sigue en general sin control ni cambio.

«By devoting virtually all of its energies into the Earth Life System, the new species disregarded or discounted any direct knowledge of what might lie beyond. So it became heavily locked into the reality of the Earth Life System concept» — el precio que le cobra a la conquista: al volcar sus energías en el sistema, la especie descartó todo conocimiento directo de lo que pudiera haber más allá y quedó trabada en él.

«At some stage the new species gave itself the label of Human: Human “Beings.” Homo sapiens» — el momento en que la especie se pone nombre a sí misma, dicho como acto propio y no como clasificación recibida.

«Throughout history, whenever humans organized into groups of any significant size, the concept of a god-being emerged to become a prominent factor. One simple explanation as to why this occurred is that when the Human Mind moves into adulthood it no longer has parental figures to lean upon, blame, provide help, or set the rules. So it conjures up suitable replacements» — la explicación que ofrece del dios, marcada por él mismo como una explicación simple entre otras posibles: al llegar la mente humana a la adultez se queda sin figuras parentales en que apoyarse, a quienes culpar o que pongan las reglas, y las sustituye.

«The god-being concept is a convenient way to explain the unknown and to relieve the human being from various unwanted responsibilities. The price, however, is to give up large areas of authority» — y el costo que le pone a esa conveniencia: la figura divina explica lo desconocido y descarga responsabilidades no deseadas a cambio de ceder amplias zonas de autoridad.

«To clear up and put Unknowns into the Known category, the Human Mind also moved in another direction. It took direct, repeatable experiences and, using the rule of cause and effect, turned them into Knowns which it passed down from father to son, mother to daughter, then from the spoken to the written word, and eventually into what became known as schools. Only relatively recently were crude and simplistic Known-seeking processes established and given a label: science» — la genealogía que le traza al conocimiento con el vocabulario del libro: experiencias directas y repetibles convertidas en *Knowns* por causa y efecto, transmitidas de padre a hijo, después por escrito, luego en escuelas, y muy recientemente bajo el rótulo de ciencia. Nótese que llama toscos y simplistas a esos procesos.

«It set up its own rules and laws, which were often in conflict with the Earth Life System. Fear was still the major tool of the trade, with greed, ego, sexuality, and other such being important components. Yet despite the distortion and discoloration, the alien thinking seeped through» — cómo describe lo que la especie hizo con el patrón depredador una vez dominante: se dio reglas y leyes propias, a menudo en conflicto con el sistema de vida terrestre, con el miedo por herramienta principal del oficio y la codicia, el ego y la sexualidad como componentes.

«Again and again, the alien Human Mind began to express and demonstrate elements completely incompatible with the Earth Life System. These were: first, concern and empathy as to other members of the species; second, concern and empathy as to members of other species; third, a growing curiosity and uncomfortable suspicion as to the limitations apparently imposed on all participants in the system» — los tres elementos que declara incompatibles con el sistema de vida terrestre: empatía hacia la propia especie, empatía hacia otras especies y una curiosidad sospechosa sobre los límites impuestos a todos los participantes.

«There has always been, as there is today, a very thin layer of Human Minds who have the time and the energy to sit back and think. They have moved past the immediate need for survival effort» — quiénes son los que hacen ese trabajo, según él: una capa muy delgada que tiene tiempo y energía para sentarse a pensar porque ya pasó la urgencia de la supervivencia.

«How many are there? One in a thousand? One in ten thousand? In one hundred thousand? Instead of planning and plotting how to exploit their fellow species or to pull riches from the earth, these curious and suspicious Human Minds sought for patterns beyond the Earth Life System in themselves and in others. They found enough to strike responsive chords in their own being, and they passed along what they found. The message was that human beings are more than mere animals living and dying in the Earth Life» — la pregunta por el tamaño de esa capa, que deja sin contestar entre tres cifras posibles, y el mensaje que dice haber transmitido: los seres humanos son más que animales que viven y mueren en el sistema; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«Yet, to date, little has been achieved as a result, beyond such conceptions as hope, faith, guilt, simple belief, and a poorly defined collection of hints and suggestions under the general heading of love. So the species as a whole remains unfulfilled and restless» — el balance con que cierra la línea base, y es de lo más severo que escribe sobre lo alcanzado: esperanza, fe, culpa, creencia y un conjunto mal definido de indicios bajo el nombre de amor, con la especie insatisfecha e inquieta.

«This, then, is the Earth Life System where we are now, and the state of Human Minds. These are the Knowns, and this is where we begin, according to our current scientific overview. But … the missing Basic? Even as the light increased, I still did not recognize it» — y el cierre del capítulo, que es una abstención declarada: con la línea base entera montada según la visión científica corriente, sigue sin reconocer el *Basic* que falta.

«As Human Minds, we are what we think. We also are what others think. Most of this has little to do with our physical bodies when we go below the surface. To deal with this more closely, let us create a model of the Human Mind as it is and operates in practice—a pragmatic model, if you like. Imagine it as structured in layers, something like an onion, and let us work from» — la definición con que abre el modelo y la figura que lo organiza: somos lo que pensamos y también lo que otros piensan, y la mente humana se dispone en capas como una cebolla, de dentro afuera.

«This is the intrinsic, original Human Mind. Starting from this inner core, we are the essence of the sum of our experiences, without limitation. The inner core is composed of the following: what we have lived and consciously thought to date; the emotions we have experienced; the love we have expressed and experienced; the dreams we have experienced, whether we remember them or not; the pains and pleasures; the daydreams, wishes, and hopes» — la primera capa, el *Core Self*: la mente humana intrínseca y original, esencia de la suma de las experiencias sin limitación, con lo vivido y pensado, las emociones, el amor, los sueños, los dolores y placeres.

«all the above during any and all previous life activity; unidentified elements» — y cómo cierra esa lista, que es donde el término se sale de lo psicológico: toda actividad de cualquier vida previa, más elementos sin identificar. La enumeración viene de la plana anterior.

«This is the layer or element that is most difficult to control. All of the expressions of the Human Mind route through here and receive data in the Earth Life System through here as well. This is where the filtering, discoloration, and contamination take place. The problem is that we think we need to rely on it or we cannot remain physically human. Physiologically, it comprises a cluster consisting of the mammalian brain, the reptilian brain, and the limbic system» — la segunda capa, el *Animal Sub-Self*: por ella pasan todas las expresiones de la mente humana y todos los datos que llegan del sistema de vida terrestre, y ahí ocurren el filtrado y la contaminación; fisiológicamente la sitúa en el cerebro mamífero, el reptiliano y el sistema límbico.

«The next layer can be identified as what you think you are, which is entirely different from knowing what you are. The reason is that only a part of the inner core is available to the conscious you; hence there is much distortion, as expression has to pass through the Animal Sub-Self. The conscious mind may be wholly accurate; but in some areas local concepts and customs give an opposite interpretation from that of your Core Self» — la tercera capa, la *Conscious Mind*, definida por la diferencia entre creerse y saberse: solo una parte del núcleo está disponible para la conciencia, y lo que llega pasa distorsionado por el sub-yo animal.

«This layer is further complicated by belief systems; for many of us the complexity becomes a maze. It is no surprise that most don’t find a clear way out» — lo que le añaden los sistemas de creencias a esa capa, en su lectura: un laberinto del que la mayoría no encuentra salida clara.

«The next outward layer is what we think others think of us. This is a grand mixture because part of it is intuitive—nonverbal communication—which gets confused with what our sensory and analytical perceptions tell us. This layer is in a constant state of flux, changing constantly with new experience and new perception» — la cuarta capa, *Human Mind External*: lo que creemos que los otros piensan de nosotros, mezcla de comunicación no verbal intuitiva y percepción analítica, en flujo constante.

«In this section, which is controlled heavily by cultural context, we develop artificial and synthetic drives and motivations which probably lead to most mental and physical dysfunction. Attempting to keep up, or leading a totally reactive existence—which is what many people do—can, if you allow this lifestyle to take over, lead to a veritable hell on earth» — a qué atribuye el grueso de la disfunción mental y física, y lo dice en probabilístico, no en afirmativo: impulsos y motivaciones artificiales fabricados en esa capa bajo control del contexto cultural.

«Moving outward, you have the skin: what you want others to think of you. This is usually fairly simple. Mostly it is set by the acceptability and needs of the world around you, superimposed hopefully with waves and pulses thrusting out from your inner core. The presentation of self is careful and usually covered with a sheen of deception. In hard cases, no sign of the inner layers ever appears, even under great stress. Such cases die with their false faces on, grimly and stoically» — la quinta capa, *Human Mind Role*, que llama la piel: lo que uno quiere que los demás piensen de él, una presentación cubierta de un barniz de engaño que en los casos duros no se levanta ni bajo gran tensión.

«The outermost layer, much larger than you might expect, is composed of others’ thoughts of you. Consider yourself as existing wherever and whenever any other person or being thinks of you, even only occasionally. You may get some idea of the magnitude by recalling all of those you think of, even only occasionally. Add (as just a belief at this point) all of those who still think of you but who no longer inhabit a physical body—who are now “somewhere else”—plus those who know you from any other existence, whatever and wherever it may be or have been. You would be astounded at how big and how much you are» — la capa exterior, *Human Mind Radiation*, con la consecuencia que saca: uno existe dondequiera y cuandoquiera que otro lo piense, de modo que se es mucho más grande de lo que se supone. Marca él mismo como creencia por ahora la parte que incluye a quienes ya no tienen cuerpo físico.

«Very little of this radiation of you, as perceived by others, is aware of the content of your inner Core Self. The disguise and filtration are in the way. But a problem does lie in our deep concern as to what others think of us» — y el desajuste que señala entre esa capa y el núcleo: casi nada de lo que otros perciben conoce el contenido del *Core Self*, porque el disfraz y la filtración se interponen.

«But we have to beware of imitations; there are those dedicated to the Earth Life System who can produce a mass of simulated Core Self so cleverly done that it conceals the real Earth Life System action and motivation. It is easy to be deceived» — la advertencia con que acota su propio método de leer las señales del núcleo: hay quienes producen *Core Self* simulado con tal habilidad que oculta la motivación real del sistema.

«Conflict arises when the Human Mind demands an action and the Earth Life System self has trouble handling it. There is a growing suspicion that much of our mental and physical dysfunction is the result of this conflict. The least of the conflict is external; most lies in the habituation and motivation struggle within the Human Mind» — de dónde vendría el sufrimiento mental, dicho como sospecha creciente y no como hallazgo: el choque entre lo que la mente humana exige y lo que el yo del sistema terrestre puede manejar, con el conflicto más adentro que afuera.

«Any expression of emotion: sadness, joy, anger, grief, ecstasy, hate, exaltation, depression, and so on, all subjective and spontaneous. The key is to experience and subsequently to learn to control and direct them as desired. In the Earth Life System there is no emotion beyond survival responses such as protection of young—responses which are purely aggressive or defensive in motivation. The nearest simulations include possessiveness, dominance, jealousy, pride» — la primera señal del núcleo, la emoción, con la clave que le pone —experimentarla y aprender a dirigirla— y su contraste: el sistema terrestre no tiene emoción fuera de las respuestas de supervivencia, y lo más parecido son posesividad, dominación, celos y orgullo.

«Appreciation and even understanding without necessarily having any related personal memory or experience to draw upon» — la empatía, definida por lo que no requiere: apreciación y hasta comprensión sin memoria ni experiencia personal en que apoyarse. La entrada sigue en la plana siguiente.

«is a recognition of oneness beyond physical species. It is also a reflection of the knowledge that such experience is essential to the individual’s learning process; therefore nothing can or should be done to attempt to change the problems others must face. Sympathy and compassion are specific versions that are colored by emotion to varying degrees» — y la consecuencia dura que le saca en la plana siguiente: si esa experiencia es esencial para el aprendizaje de cada quien, nada puede ni debe hacerse por cambiarle a otro los problemas que le tocan; simpatía y compasión quedan como versiones teñidas de emoción.

«The Earth Life System has no knowledge or understanding of this area. The closest approximation may be herd or pack instinct, which is strictly survival-based. It is possible that current dolphin investigations may have some relevance here» — y la única salvedad que se permite al negar equivalente en el sistema terrestre, puesta en condicional: quizá las investigaciones con delfines tengan alguna relevancia.

«A direct information flow from the Core Self level. It is a form of what can be called nonverbal communication—multiple and total simultaneous transmission/reception that cannot be expressed in words. The facial expression is an autonomic response: “Got it, loud and clear!” The Earth Life System has nothing comparable. The closest may be relationships developed between Human Minds and pet animals—a hand lick or a purr. But simulations are all over the place» — la sonrisa suave como flujo directo de información del núcleo, transmisión total y simultánea que no cabe en palabras; lo más cercano en el sistema terrestre sería el lametón o el ronroneo de un animal doméstico.

«Another thrust direct from the Core Self. This radiation cannot be translated into words or graphics. “Joy” and “fun” are too mundane. There are many imitations and because it is so disarming the indicator is widely used to manipulate. Go past the indicator to the radiation itself. Again, there is nothing comparable in the Earth Life System. In this framework, anything similar is a warning or prelude to predation» — la sonrisa grande, con su advertencia de uso: por desarmante, el indicador se emplea mucho para manipular, y hay que ir más allá del indicador a la radiación misma. En el sistema terrestre, algo parecido es aviso o preludio de depredación.

«This is clean Core Self. It is pure appreciation of the inspiration and creativity of not only Earth Life System constructs but also of» — la contemplación de la belleza como núcleo en limpio: apreciación pura de la inspiración y la creatividad, y no solo de lo que construye el sistema de vida terrestre; la frase sigue en la plana siguiente.

«Human Mind patterns, from soaring bridges and buildings to a cappella choirs and Human Mind performance. It is an information/ experience-gathering process that your Human Mind cannot resist. The Earth Life System has no comprehension of this and nothing comparable, so there can be no imitations» — y adónde la extiende: puentes y edificios elevados, coros a capela y ejecución de la mente humana, en un proceso de recolección de experiencia al que dice que la mente no se resiste. Por no haber equivalente en el sistema terrestre, tampoco puede haber imitación.

«This is a welling up from your Core Self of origin memory, which is best rationalized as emotional values from previous experience in your present lifetime. In this way it is possible to divert away from the underlying and implied plea: show me the way to go Home» — la nostalgia como emergencia de la memoria de origen, y la súplica que él lee debajo cuando se la racionaliza como valores emocionales de esta vida: que le muestren el camino a *Home*.

«A very simple Core Self expression. A touch instead of a grasp, a pat instead of a punch, a stroke instead of a shove. Even animals understand and know the difference» — el toque gentil, definido por tres contrastes: tocar en vez de agarrar, palmear en vez de golpear, acariciar en vez de empujar.

«A true demonstration of the Core Self in action. Altruism and agape are working illustrations; service to others with absolutely no recompense or recognition, except to your Human Mind core. In the Earth Life System this is totally beyond comprehension. If it happens, it’s by accident, not design» — la entrega anónima, con su condición estricta: servicio a otros sin recompensa ni reconocimiento alguno salvo ante el propio núcleo; en el sistema terrestre, si ocurre, es por accidente.

«Human Minds are thinkers to a degree not found elsewhere in the Earth Life System. Once we get past the lures of the system, we discover a flow of ideas, inspiration, intuition, invention, innovation, all sorted through for us by our magnificent processor, the mind. These are products of Core Self directives and are often sparked by curiosity, a great catalyst for change. There is nothing remotely close in the Earth Life System. All we find is some rudimentary toolmaking, some instinctive processes that are usually attributed to keen physical sensory perception. Some animals do have curiosity, which often proves fatal» — el pensamiento como última señal, con la curiosidad por catalizador del cambio, y el remate con que cierra la serie: algunos animales tienen curiosidad, y a menudo les resulta fatal.

«Because this item of universal interest is so misunderstood and misconstrued, it took a special extended investigation to reduce it to anywhere near a rational level. The following ROTE, passed to me by a friend, is at least a beginning. Once it is absorbed, it will expand as it is contemplated» — cómo introduce el asunto del amor y de quién es la pieza que va a citar: un *ROTE* que le pasó un amigo, presentado apenas como un comienzo. La voz que sigue no es la suya.

«Love can’t be taught, can’t be bought. Love can’t be learned. It is generated within the individual in response to an external stimulus. The individual has no control over this generation. Once initiated, it may be layered over or sublimated but never destroyed. Physical death has no effect upon the reality of its existence, as such energy is neither dependent upon nor a part of time-space» — el contenido del *ROTE*, en la voz que Monroe transcribe: el amor no se enseña ni se compra ni se aprende, se genera dentro del individuo ante un estímulo externo y sin control suyo, y una vez iniciado puede taparse o sublimarse pero no destruirse.

«It is a radiation that cannot be grasped and held on to. Instead it is perceived, experienced as it passes through the individual, who adds to it that additional portion which has been generated by this passing. The energy is thereby enhanced and the individual becomes a constant contributor and recipient thereof» — y la segunda mitad de esa pieza, que lo define como flujo y no como posesión: una radiación que no se aferra, se percibe al pasar a través de uno, que le añade la porción generada por ese paso.

«With the heavy emphasis on sexual arousal and the myth of romance, it is no surprise that so many claim to experience what we may call the Big L in their relationships. Not so. The only way you can obtain it is through shared life experience, and even then there is no guarantee» — lo que Monroe niega en su propia voz, ya sin el *ROTE*: que la excitación sexual y el mito del romance produzcan lo que llama la *Big L*; la única vía que reconoce es la experiencia de vida compartida, y ni así hay garantía.

«On the other hand it will grow on you. You don’t have to work at it, despite what the books say. Time is not a vital factor. The deeper, more intense the shared experience, the less» — cómo la separa del esfuerzo y del calendario, contra lo que dice que sostienen los libros: crece sola, el tiempo no es factor decisivo y cuenta más la intensidad de lo compartido; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«Other attractions are not necessarily destructive or valueless but they do fall into another category» — cómo sitúa a las demás atracciones sin descalificarlas: no son necesariamente destructivas ni carecen de valor, pero caen en otra categoría.

«indestructible and eternal, and never dependent on local habits and customs. Friendship, for example, might be construed as a shadow of the Big L, or at least a kissing cousin» — los rasgos con que distingue a la *Big L* —indestructible, eterna y nunca dependiente de hábitos y costumbres locales— y el lugar que le da a la amistad, sombra suya o prima hermana. La frase empieza del otro lado del corte de bloque, en esta misma plana.

«The greatest problem lies in misidentification. We become entrapped into believing we have found the Big L, often with disastrous results, when the ideal is not adhered to by the» — el problema mayor que le ve, y es el que produce el daño: creerse que se la ha encontrado, a menudo con resultados desastrosos cuando la otra parte no sostiene el ideal.

«The most consistent and visible facet of the Big L is probably mother love. It meets the tests admirably, although it often gets heavily layered with protocol» — dónde dice verla con más constancia, y lo dice en probabilístico: el amor materno, que cumple las pruebas de sobra aunque suela quedar muy cubierto de protocolo.

«Men find the Big L in other men and women in other women usually as a result of profound experience over some time, although extended experience does not automatically evoke the Big L. Yet when it does happen, sometimes effortlessly and without conscious awareness, it is permanent in the full meaning of the word. If you work together, play together, live together, fight, suffer, laugh, and team together, the probability is increased» — y dónde más aparece, con la salvedad puesta en la misma frase: entre hombres y entre mujeres tras experiencia profunda y prolongada, aunque la experiencia prolongada no la evoca por sí sola; cuando ocurre, dice, es permanente en todo el sentido de la palabra.

«The main characteristic of the Big L is that it does not diminish with physical death and you cannot extinguish it during physical life. Out of necessity, propriety, or for reasons beyond your control you may sublimate it, yet it will always be there, glowing quietly within you» — la característica que declara principal: no disminuye con la muerte física ni se puede extinguir en vida, y a lo sumo se sublima por necesidad, decoro o razones ajenas.

«Why the expression “till death do us part” became part of our culture is a mystery. Perhaps it was inserted so that the physical survivor would feel emotionally free to remarry and beget more offspring to further ensure the continuation of the species. Otherwise it makes no sense» — la conjetura con que se explica la fórmula matrimonial que la contradice, y la deja declarada como misterio y como conjetura: que se insertara para dejar al sobreviviente libre de volver a casarse y engendrar más descendencia.

«The Big L is the Core Self at its finest distillation. Reflecting on all this, I think that the source of the missing Basic is now clear—the Core Self. But how do you really get to know you» — cómo remata el capítulo enlazando las dos piezas: la *Big L* es el *Core Self* en su destilación más fina, de donde da por claro el origen del *Basic* que falta y le queda la pregunta de cómo llegar a conocerse uno mismo.

«why do we bother? Why continue with this hard journey when we could simply relax into the comfort of an appropriate belief system» — la pregunta con que abre el capítulo y que no elude: por qué seguir el camino duro pudiendo instalarse en la comodidad de un sistema de creencias apropiado.

«The Earth Life System, for all its shortcomings, is an exquisite teaching machine. It brings into focus for each of us in our own way a wide understanding of energy, and the control and manipulation thereof, that is generally unavailable except through a structured environment such as time-space. The Earth Life System is a set of tools, and we learn to use them» — cómo reencuadra el mismo sistema depredador que describió antes: una máquina de enseñanza exquisita, un juego de herramientas para entender y manipular energía que solo un entorno estructurado como el tiempo-espacio pone al alcance.

«In the Earth Life System we learn measurement. It is a polarized environment where comparatives are possible. We learn what are hot or cold, strong or weak, hungry or full, fast or slow, sad or glad, male or female, friend or foe, love or hate—the list goes on» — qué se aprende primero ahí, según él: la medida, porque es un entorno polarizado donde caben los comparativos —caliente o frío, fuerte o débil, macho o hembra, amigo o enemigo, amor u odio—.

«We learn energy applications in a useful manner in many different forms. We operate physical energy both inside and outside our bodies. We experience and direct mental energy without ever truly knowing the details of how because it comes so naturally to us» — y lo segundo, con la ignorancia declarada dentro: se opera energía física dentro y fuera del cuerpo y se dirige energía mental sin llegar a saber cómo, porque sale sola.

«Similarly we learn appreciation of beauty. We find it in a lowly rock, a stately fir tree, a thunderstorm, ocean surf, a cloud-tinted sunset, a soft-spoken word, a sweeping skyscraper tower, a musical chord, the leap of a leopard—again, the list is endless. Most of all, we find it in what other humans think and do, in their and our emotions. And we learn to laugh and have fun» — lo tercero, y dónde dice hallarlo sobre todo: en lo que otros humanos piensan y hacen, y en las emociones propias y ajenas, antes que en la roca, el abeto, la tormenta o el rascacielos.

«Every single thing we learn, no matter how small or seemingly inconsequential, is of immense value There—beyond time-space. This is fully understood only when one encounters a graduate of the Earth Life System process of being human who “resides” in the There. You then know, not just believe, that it is worth any price to be human, and to learn» — la tesis que da sentido a todo el capítulo, y de quién dice haberla obtenido: todo lo aprendido vale inmensamente en el *There*, y eso se sabe al encontrarse con un graduado del proceso de ser humano que reside allá.

«Current concepts have it that, aside from our animal-driven activity, our thinking is divided into two basic categories which we identify as left brain and right brain. Bear in mind that this identification is only symbolic and the separation is nowhere near as distinct as left» — cómo introduce la partición entre hemisferios y con qué reserva: la identificación es solo simbólica y la separación no es ni de lejos tan nítida como sugiere el par izquierda-derecha; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«Our left brain process is the part of us that gets things done. It is the intellectual, analytical area of function. Here lie our mathematical and speech centers, our logical reasoning, our scientific method, our organizational talents and teaching skills, and much more. It is our left brain activity that makes us different from animals. It is the source of our» — qué le atribuye al hemisferio izquierdo: lo intelectual y analítico, los centros matemáticos y del habla, el razonamiento lógico, el método científico y el talento organizativo, y lo que dice que nos separa de los animales.

«Our right brain is opposite. From this come our perception of form and space, beauty, intuition, emotions, plus everything else the left brain cannot understand or categorize, including love, friendship, inspiration, etc. The right brain is horrified at the idea that a left brain formula can be produced to quantify and qualify love and» — y qué al derecho: forma y espacio, belleza, intuición, emoción y todo lo que el izquierdo no entiende ni clasifica, incluidos el amor y la amistad, ante cuya cuantificación dice que el derecho se horroriza; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«That is right brain sacred territory. Paradoxically, our right brain is the generator of our feelings of negativity» — la paradoja que consigna sobre ese territorio sagrado: el mismo hemisferio derecho es el generador de los sentimientos de negatividad.

«More recent concepts hold that our human consciousness flickers back and forth between left and right brain as situations arise during our daily physical life. When we perform calculations, our left brain is dominant. When we listen to music, our right brain takes over. Peak performance comes when both left and right brain thinking are integrated, unified, synchronous» — la posición que adopta sobre la relación entre ambos, atribuida a concepciones más recientes: la conciencia parpadea de uno a otro según la tarea, y el rendimiento máximo llega con los dos integrados y sincrónicos.

«A kind of cultural subwar has been going on for centuries and has come to the surface only in recent years. The dominant-left-brainers consider the dominant-right-brainers to be basically unfit for existence in the Earth Life System and tend to regard them with contempt or disbelief. The dominant-right-brainers look on the others as unimaginative, dull, overmaterialistic, unfeeling, and lacking in» — la disputa cultural que describe y en la que reparte los dos desprecios: los de dominancia izquierda tienen a los otros por inaptos para existir en el sistema, y los de dominancia derecha a los primeros por faltos de imaginación, materialistas y sin sentimiento.

«It is time now to declare peace in this battle and to set right this dangerous misunderstanding» — y la posición que toma él, sin darle la razón a ninguno de los dos bandos: declarar la paz y enmendar el malentendido.

«Our prime and fundamental purpose, aside from learning through experience in being human, is to acquire and develop what we label intellect: left brain consciousness. We do not need to act similarly with our right brain abilities because we already have them. We brought them with us; somehow they were inherent» — la tesis más fuerte del capítulo y la que lo separa de la lectura corriente del asunto: el propósito fundamental es adquirir y desarrollar el intelecto, la conciencia del hemisferio izquierdo, porque las capacidades del derecho ya se traían puestas.

«It is the left brain capability that is of exquisite value when we visit or return to the There, beyond time-space. It is the left brain that removes the limitations on our growth that were present prior to our sojourn here. Only left brain function can make Unknowns into Knowns, dissolve fears, enhance experience, open new vistas, clean out the false belief-system refuse. It is the left brain that takes any idea, information, or inspiration emanating from or via the right brain and puts it into action. By any standards, something of value cannot become real unless and until the left brain takes over» — por qué sostiene esa preferencia, y es funcional, no valorativa: solo la función izquierda convierte *Unknowns* en *Knowns*, disuelve miedos y pone en acción lo que llega del derecho; sin ella nada valioso se vuelve real.

«For millennia the human right brain has not changed. It has not grown or evolved. It is the same as it always was. In contrast, left brain consciousness has been steadily evolving, either by design or necessity. In the past century, this growth has become an» — la asimetría histórica que afirma: el hemisferio derecho no ha cambiado ni evolucionado en milenios, mientras que la conciencia izquierda evoluciona sin parar, por diseño o por necesidad; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«exponential curve, not simply in one or two individuals but in literally millions of humans throughout the period» — y la forma que le da a ese crecimiento en el último siglo, con su alcance: una curva exponencial, no en uno o dos individuos sino en millones. La frase empieza en la plana anterior.

«Today the left brain has probed so deeply into the time-space phenomenon that there seem few areas left to explore without recycling and repetition. The energy fields in the There are ripe for exploration» — y la conclusión que saca de esa curva, que es el programa del libro: quedan pocas zonas del tiempo-espacio por explorar sin repetirse, y los campos de energía del *There* están maduros.

«What has happened is that our left brain has become so thoroughly entrenched—and justifiably so—in providing means of survival in the Earth Life System that it resists anything and everything that may interfere with or interrupt the process. What occurs beyond time-space, in the There, does not calculate by ordinary Earth Life System standards. More important, information from There appears to have no value for Earth Life System inhabitants. Only when our left brain recognizes that such knowledge is a most vital tool for growth in the There will specific interest be generated» — por qué no ocurre todavía, y le concede la razón al obstáculo: el hemisferio izquierdo está atrincherado —con justificación, dice— en proveer supervivencia, y la información del *There* no le calcula por las normas del sistema.

«As it is the boss, the right brain often forces the left brain to perform in a way that tends to destroy thousands of years of evolution. Meanwhile, our left brain continues to pick up the usable ideas and inspirations of the right brain and make them into something of value. It tolerates the nonproductive right brain patterns as long as they don’t get in the way. It also heavily distorts some right brain patterns to convert them into the Earth Life System survivor-predator organization» — cómo describe el trato entre ambos, sin idealizar a ninguno: el derecho manda y a veces fuerza al izquierdo a destruir milenios de evolución, y el izquierdo tolera lo improductivo y distorsiona lo demás para servir a la organización depredadora.

«For our Different Overview, here are two definitions: Left Brain = Human Mind modified by the Earth Life System. Right Brain = Expression of the Core Self, the timeless, nonphysical part of us, untouched and unaffected by the Earth Life System» — las dos definiciones con que fija el par para el resto del libro, y que lo desplazan de la neurología a su propio vocabulario: hemisferio izquierdo es la mente humana modificada por el sistema terrestre, y derecho es expresión del *Core Self*, intemporal y no física.

«synchronous action, nudging the left brain more and more into taking part in the There activity. You should never abandon one for the other» — la operación que propone, que no es elegir bando: poner ambos hemisferios en acción simultánea y sincrónica, empujando al izquierdo cada vez más a la actividad del *There*, sin abandonar nunca uno por el otro. La frase empieza en la plana anterior.

«Always know and remember that you are “more than your physical body.” This will provide instant perspective on any Earth Life System activity. The agony becomes tolerable, the ecstasy more profound. Locally induced fears evaporate» — el primero de sus siete consejos prácticos y el efecto que le atribuye: recordarse más que el cuerpo físico da perspectiva inmediata, hace tolerable la agonía y más profundo el éxtasis.

«Recognize and control your survival drive. Use it instead of allowing it to use you. Here are some suggestions: a. One part of the formula (Physical Life = Good) is needed for the Earth Life System and is acceptable during your stay. The other part (Physical Death = Bad) you can discard because you will know better. b. Remember that your ultimate goal is not physical survival. Thus, while it is valid that you are here to do certain things and there are functions you must perform to be here to do them, you don’t need to be desperate about it. Accidents may happen, but you cannot lose; you have had the experience of being human» — el segundo, con la mitad de la fórmula que manda descartar: *vida física = bueno* sirve mientras se está aquí, pero *muerte física = malo* se tira, y de ahí que no haga falta desesperarse por la supervivencia.

«The sexual reproductive drive is the most powerful animal instinct of the Earth Life System. Designed specifically for physical survival of the species, it controls and is manipulated to control most aspects of human behavior. Enjoy it, but there’s no need to live or die for it. And enjoy the manipulations for what they are; succumb only knowingly» — cómo trata el impulso sexual, sin condena ni exaltación: el instinto animal más poderoso del sistema, diseñado para la supervivencia de la especie y usado para controlar casi toda conducta humana; disfrutarlo sin vivir ni morir por él, y sucumbir solo a sabiendas.

«Physical assets (material, food, tools, toys) are great for local use, but ownership is only a matter of temporary convenience. You not only cannot but you would not want to take them with you—not even your physical body» — y qué hace con la propiedad: útil localmente, pero conveniencia temporal, porque nada de eso se lleva uno, ni siquiera el cuerpo.

«Maintain your transient status. You are being human at your own» — el tercer consejo, y el que más desplaza el estatuto de la vida humana: se es humano por opción propia; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«option in the strictest sense. That option remains in force throughout your visit. You may pack up your experience and leave whenever and for wherever you desire, with no censure or penalties from any source that matters. If your Human Mind is satisfied, you will do this in spite of local custom or effort. Earth Life System addicts may not understand, but that is their problem» — y hasta dónde llega esa opción, dicho sin eufemismo: se puede empacar la experiencia e irse cuando y adonde se quiera, sin censura ni castigo de fuente alguna que importe. La frase empieza en la plana anterior.

«Enjoy your life in the System, maximize your highs and lows— but don’t become addicted. Get through being angry at how the system works, the seeming inequities, the unfair advantages, the brutalities, the callousness, the deceit. It’s a predator world by design—and it’s a superb teaching machine» — el cuarto, donde las dos caras conviven sin conciliarse: hay que superar el enojo ante las inequidades, las brutalidades y el engaño, porque el mundo es depredador por diseño y a la vez una máquina de enseñanza excelente.

«Exercise your Human Mind as fully as possible, knowing it is only an exercise. Build beautiful artifacts, solve “problems,” smell the flowers and watch the sunsets, compose music, explore the “secrets” of the physical universe, savor the input from all of your five senses, absorb the nuances of close relationships and situations, feel the joy and sorrow, the laughter, the empathy, compassion— and tuck all of the emotional memory in your travel bag» — el quinto, con la instrucción de qué llevarse: ejercer la mente humana a fondo sabiendo que es ejercicio, y guardar toda la memoria emocional en el equipaje.

«Most important, let the Human Mind of you seek out, experience, and add to your flow of consciousness where and when you encounter it. Drink it in, but watch out for the tendency to wallow in it due to the reminders of Home contained therein. Beware of illusions and collusion which make it sometimes difficult to sort out the real in the Earth Life System environment» — el sexto, con la advertencia pegada: beber del flujo de conciencia que uno encuentre, pero cuidarse de regodearse en él por los recuerdos de *Home* que trae, y de las ilusiones que confunden lo real.

«Your Human Mind has a natural and normal proclivity to try to make things in the Earth Life System much the way it is accustomed to in the There. History is full of such attempts, but in the end the system always wins. An edge may have been frayed, but the predator animalism simply comes back, sometimes a bit smarter than before, and takes over» — el séptimo, y es la desactivación de toda utopía: la historia está llena de intentos de rehacer el sistema a imagen del *There*, y al final el sistema siempre gana, con el animalismo depredador volviendo un poco más listo.

«change a part of it, but you will never change it all. If you did manage a complete overhaul, the system wouldn’t and couldn’t exist. Yet who knows how much longer it will exist anyway» — la acotación que le pone a ese pesimismo, y que sostiene el intento igual: se puede cambiar una parte, nunca el todo, porque una revisión completa haría que el sistema no pudiera existir; la frase empieza del otro lado del corte de bloque.

«All the above points are Knowns to others and are easy to verify for your own knowing through direct logical working of your left brain» — el estatuto que le da a los siete puntos, que es el mismo de todo el libro: son *Knowns* para otros y se verifican por el trabajo lógico del propio hemisferio izquierdo; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«on each question or belief. Solidify your Different Overview by proving these for yourself—and for yourself only» — y para quién vale esa verificación, repetido una vez más: para uno mismo y para nadie más. La frase empieza en la plana anterior.

«At this point, the Earth Life System theme seemed complete—but it was not. Another part of me who knows deeply the Earth Life System from another overview demanded to be heard» — la marca de voz con que introduce lo que sigue, y conviene leerla antes que el pasaje: lo que viene no lo firma el expositor de las páginas anteriores sino otra parte de él que conoce el sistema desde otra perspectiva y exigió ser oída.

«It was a long walk through the forest to reach the ocean. Along the way, the path was quiet except for the hum of insects and the occasional call of a crow high in the tall trees. In the lush undergrowth, a slight crackling of dry leaves told of small residents, if one listened carefully. Under the fresh smell of growing green lay the deep aroma of moist earth and decaying vegetation, both silent signals of the life cycle in progress» — cómo cambia el registro esa otra voz: descripción sensorial del bosque —insectos, el grajo, las hojas secas, el olor de tierra húmeda y vegetación en descomposición— leída como señal del ciclo de vida.

«All comes to this, the beginning and the end of an aeons-long period of time. This living mass of air, water, and land—what it gives and what it takes—what it produces» — a qué llega esa caminata: la masa viva de aire, agua y tierra, con lo que da, lo que quita y lo que produce.

«It is more than awareness; more than consciousness; more than experience. It is more than intelligence, knowledge, truth, and understanding. The whole is so much greater than the sum of the parts» — la fórmula que da título al capítulo catorce y que aquí aparece por primera vez: el conjunto es mucho más que la suma de las partes, y excede a la conciencia, la inteligencia, el conocimiento y la comprensión.

«It is such a wonderful learning process; learning to separate this from that, and the differences and comparisons: heat from cold, light from dark, noise from silence, strength from weakness, pain from comfort, thick from thin, rough from smooth, hard from soft, balance from instability» — en qué consiste el aprendizaje según esta voz: separar y comparar —calor de frío, luz de oscuridad, ruido de silencio, dolor de comodidad, equilibrio de inestabilidad—.

«There is the learning of cause and effect, action and reaction, price» — y el segundo orden de ese aprendizaje, causa y efecto, acción y reacción, precio y pago; la enumeración sigue en la plana siguiente.

«and paying, authority and responsibility. And the options you learn to recognize: stop or start, hold or release, sink or swim, laugh or cry, friend or enemy, reward or retribution, success or failure, love or hate, win or lose, organization or chaos» — cómo continúa la lista del otro lado del salto, ya como opciones y no como pares dados: parar o arrancar, hundirse o nadar, amigo o enemigo, éxito o fracaso, organización o caos.

«There is the learning to think: to coordinate, count, calculate, and communicate; to remember, connect, plan, and have ideas; to daydream, create, hope, believe, and know. And the ability to experience and express emotion: joy and ecstasy, sadness, compassion, loneliness, communion; righteous and irrational anger —and the appreciation of the beauty of form and movement» — el tercer orden: aprender a pensar y a recordar, a soñar despierto, crear, esperar, creer y saber, y a experimentar y expresar emoción, incluida la ira justa y la irracional.

«And there is the learning to learn: words and numbers, writing, passing experience, knowledge, and wisdom from parent to child, generation to generation, without the trauma of reenactment. Learning to establish systems, laws, and rules that insure this learning will continue and expand» — el cuarto, que es el que hace acumulativo a todo lo demás: pasar experiencia y sabiduría de padres a hijos y de generación en generación sin el trauma de repetirla, y montar sistemas y leyes que lo sostengan.

«It is all there beyond the forest. It is in the ripening carpets of grain, the neat, multimillion rows of nourishing plants, and the mills that reshape matter into more usable form. It is in the many different shelters that are labeled home, the tall and slender towers that reach for the sky, the motor vehicles that become a substitute body, the ships sailing around the world atop and beneath the oceans, the winged carriers that draw white lines in the sky, and the metallic birds that hover and circle the globe hundreds, thousands of miles above its surface, each delivering innumerable items of information every second, day and night. And it is in the invisible yet measurable network of controlled radiation that serves for communication and local direction-finding» — cómo extiende ese aprendizaje a lo construido, sin cambiar de tono al pasar del bosque a la técnica: los campos de grano, los molinos, las casas, las torres, los vehículos que hacen de cuerpo sustituto, los barcos, los aviones y los satélites que reparten información cada segundo.

«And there is more, such as the amplification of perception through lens and mirror and electronic ears to search the universe for a signal, just one signal, to assuage the loneliness, searching through stars, constellations, galaxies, novas, and black holes» — y cómo describe la astronomía, con el motivo que ya había dado antes en su propia voz: amplificar la percepción para buscar una señal, una sola, que alivie la soledad.

«There is the illogical thrust away from our blue planet to the nearby moon, where an indelible footprint was left in the dust. There is the ranging and reporting of surrogate explorers to view and land on other planets, and thence moving on into the blackness of deep space» — la exploración espacial calificada por lo que la voz considera su rasgo, no por su resultado: un impulso ilógico que dejó una huella indeleble en el polvo de la Luna y siguió con exploradores sustitutos hacia otros planetas.

«Learn too of the steady unfolding of the patterns that once seemed inviolate in land, water, and air; of alloys, compounds, elements, atoms, molecules, nuclear particles, radiation, and waveforms; of gravity, inertia, momentum, centrifugal force, polarity; of the organic and inorganic, the living physical structures and their processes» — el inventario de lo aprendido de la materia: aleaciones, compuestos, elementos, átomos, partículas nucleares, radiación, y gravedad, inercia, momento, fuerza centrífuga y polaridad.

«Learn of the search for mind and creator; of belief systems, sleep and dreams, visions and visionaries, philosophies and religions. Learn also of Love» — y qué pone en la misma lista, sin jerarquía entre lo uno y lo otro: la búsqueda de la mente y del creador, los sistemas de creencias, el sueño, las visiones, las filosofías, las religiones y el amor.

«This then is the wondrous package of achievement through millennia of evolutionary effort that we may carry lightly and easily but with triumph into the far reaches beyond; a heritage of inestimable quality, to be evaluated and applied in the There» — qué se hace con todo eso, según esta voz: un paquete de logro de milenios que se lleva ligero pero con triunfo más allá, para evaluarlo y aplicarlo en el *There*.

«Yet … and yet … among the clouds and the clamor there is an uncomfortable sense of a missing factor, vital and important. Turn your attention, and a small face appears amid the mass of other knowing. It is shaped less than human and more than monkey. The eyes are luminous with emotion» — el giro del capítulo, y es el hallazgo que la exposición anterior no había dado: falta un factor, y al mirar aparece una cara menos que humana y más que mono, con los ojos luminosos de emoción.

«It is there, all of it, in the eyes. From across the span of timelessness, the carrier of that first spark of intelligent consciousness, the original ancestor, looks out and observes with quiet pride and joy, with appreciation but not total comprehension, and with awe at the growth of the spark. It is the parent of a prodigal child» — quién es esa cara: el portador de la primera chispa de conciencia inteligente, el ancestro original, que observa con orgullo y alegría, con aprecio pero sin comprensión total, y con asombro. La voz lo llama padre de un hijo pródigo.

«Here, seen clearly and cleanly, is one missing factor—the animal base. None of this could have happened but for its presence and provision» — el factor que faltaba, nombrado sin rodeo: la base animal, sin cuya presencia y provisión nada de lo anterior habría ocurrido.

«It was the living demonstration from which to learn, providing the flesh to be consumed, the milk to drink, the hides and furs to give warmth, the stronger back to share the burden, oil for light, and trinkets and amulets from tusk and horn. There was loyalty too and a form of friendship, while there were some who found that fur and bare skin do mix and bring forth patterns of understanding far beyond anything envisioned» — qué aportó esa base, en una lista que no separa lo útil de lo afectivo: la carne, la leche, las pieles, el lomo que carga, el aceite para alumbrar, los amuletos de colmillo y cuerno, y también lealtad y una forma de amistad.

«This animal energy was the driving force behind the spark» — cómo define la relación entre la base animal y la chispa: la energía animal fue la fuerza motriz que la empujó; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«provided not the catalyst but the needs, motivations, and raw physical power. It is not to be hidden or demeaned but included warmly and surely as the underlying essential without which nothing would have taken place. We must hold it up with pride for all to know» — y la distinción precisa que hace ahí —no el catalizador, sino las necesidades, las motivaciones y la fuerza física bruta— con el mandato que le sigue: no esconderla ni menospreciarla, sino sostenerla con orgullo como el fundamento sin el cual nada habría pasado. La frase empieza en la plana anterior.

«And with the knowing, the little face smiles slightly, softly, even wistfully, then fades» — cómo se despide esa cara una vez reconocida: con una sonrisa leve, suave y hasta melancólica, y se desvanece.

«A squirrel on a low branch looks down and chatters. A bottle-green fly lands on a hand and enjoys gentle back-stroking with a finger. Three turkeys stand aside and watch the passage curiously but without wariness. A gray fox wanders onto the path and sits down, undecided as to whether to pay his respects. A thrush glides down, settles on a shoulder, and chirps softly into an ear until the edge of the forest is reached. With a final peck on the cheek, it pulses its wings and returns to the middle branches. Goodbye, my friends. But I do take you with me» — el regreso por el bosque y la despedida con que cierra el capítulo, que es el reverso exacto de la del valle: la ardilla, la mosca verde, los tres guajolotes, el zorro gris y el zorzal en el hombro, y a diferencia de los habitantes del valle, esta voz dice que sí se los lleva consigo.

«At that time, the Research and Development Division of the corporation which I headed, whose speciality was the sound production of network radio programs, had developed an efficient means by which sound could be used to induce sleep easily and comfortably» — de dónde venía la técnica, y es un origen comercial que no disimula: la división de investigación de su empresa se dedicaba a la producción sonora de programas de radio en cadena y había dado con un modo eficiente de inducir el sueño con sonido.

«In the same year, a discovery was made that changed the entire direction of investigation and eventually of the corporation itself: that certain patterns of sound will induce different states of consciousness not ordinarily available to the human mind» — el hallazgo que dice haber cambiado el rumbo de la investigación y de la empresa misma: ciertos patrones de sonido inducen estados de conciencia que no están ordinariamente al alcance de la mente humana.

«In 1971, The Monroe Institute was created out of the Research and Development Division to supplement the research effort. Later the Institute became an independent educational and research organization» — la fecha y el modo en que el instituto se separa de la empresa: creado en 1971 desde la división de investigación y desarrollo, y después independizado como organización educativa y de investigación.

«It should be made clear that the early research effort and expenditure were not aimed at the betterment of mankind, nor intended to prove any point to the scientific community or the world at large. It was simply an attempt to control learning patterns during sleep, and later to understand the relationships between mind, brain-body, and consciousness phenomena» — la aclaración de motivos, que repite la del primer capítulo y desmiente cualquier lectura altruista: ni mejorar a la humanidad ni probar nada ante la comunidad científica, sino controlar patrones de aprendizaje durante el sueño.

«Thus, until recently, no academic papers were published and orthodox scientific methods, though followed wherever feasible, were often ignored when they proved unworkable» — lo que el propio autor consigna sobre el método, y es de las declaraciones más comprometidas del libro: no se publicaron trabajos académicos, y los métodos científicos ortodoxos, seguidos donde era factible, se ignoraron a menudo cuando no funcionaban.

«The methods developed contain no dogma or rituals, nor do they espouse any particular belief systems, religions, political or social stance. No drugs or chemicals are involved, nor are hypnosis, subliminal suggestions, or anything remotely resembling brainwashing. They are noninvasive, and the individual is always in charge, exercising his or her own will and not under the command of another» — la lista de deslindes con que separa su técnica de lo que podría confundirse: sin dogma ni ritual, sin sistema de creencias, religión ni postura política, sin drogas, hipnosis ni sugestión subliminal, y con el sujeto siempre al mando.

«Using the results of many thousands of hours of research, subjects are able to learn conscious control of many different and productive states of consciousness, and the fall-out from this exploration of consciousness has produced valuable contributions in a host of other areas. These include physical and mental health, learning and memory, physical coordination, creativity, problem-solving, and stress management. The process, known as Hemispheric Synchronization, or Hemi-Sync for short, provides its users with a self-controlled tool to accomplish their own goals by facilitating and sustaining a purposefully focused, highly productive, coherent mind-brain state» — cómo nombra y define el procedimiento: Sincronización Hemisférica, abreviado Hemi-Sync, una herramienta autocontrolada que sostiene un estado mente-cerebro coherente, con derivaciones que atribuye a salud, memoria, coordinación, creatividad y manejo del estrés.

«In our focused wakefulness, we as Human Minds employ that part of the consciousness spectrum limited to time-space. This is made possible by the device we identify as a physical body, with its five physical senses. This physical body permits us to express externally» — la primera de sus tesis sobre la conciencia, que titula continuo: en la vigilia enfocada solo se emplea la parte del espectro limitada al tiempo-espacio, y el cuerpo físico con sus cinco sentidos es el dispositivo que lo hace posible.

«When this focusing is affected for any reason, our mind begins to drift along the consciousness spectrum away from time-space perception, becoming less aware of the immediate physical world. When this happens, we become conscious in another form. The fact that we often have difficulty in remembering correctly our participation in that other part of the consciousness spectrum does not negate its reality. The problem lies in perception and translation, diffused and distorted as they are by the use of current time-space systems of analysis and measurement» — y el argumento con que rechaza que el olvido invalide esos estados: la dificultad para recordarlos correctamente no niega su realidad, porque el problema está en la percepción y la traducción a sistemas de análisis del tiempo-espacio.

«The spectrum of consciousness ranges, seemingly endlessly, beyond time-space into other energy systems. It also continues “downward” through animal and plant life, possibly into the subatomic level. Everyday human consciousness is active commonly in only a small segment of the consciousness continuum» — hasta dónde extiende ese continuo, y una de las dos direcciones se declara como posibilidad: hacia afuera del tiempo-espacio a otros sistemas de energía, y hacia abajo por la vida animal y vegetal, quizá hasta el nivel subatómico.

«Primary Phasing is the state where the mind is fully focused on physical sensory input or activity. Any deviation from this condition can be regarded as a phase shift, where some part or percentile of consciousness is, to a certain degree, aware in another form. One example is inattention, where physical sensory input remains strong but part of the mind has “wandered.” What we call daydreaming is another. Introspection, where attention is turned away from physical awareness, is a more deliberate phase shift, as are certain meditative states» — el concepto de fase con que reordena estados ya conocidos: el enfoque pleno en lo sensorial es *Primary Phasing*, y la desatención, el soñar despierto y la introspección son desplazamientos de fase, deliberados en el último caso.

«Sleep is a shift in phasing to another state of consciousness where very little awareness of physical sensory input is taking place» — y dónde queda el sueño en ese esquema: un desplazamiento de fase más, no una interrupción de la conciencia.

«Ingestion of alcohol and certain drugs evokes split phase shifts, where part of consciousness is» — cómo clasifica el alcohol y ciertas drogas: desplazamientos de fase partidos, con parte de la conciencia aquí y parte en otra zona del continuo; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«the continuum. In these cases, when the stimulus is removed, the phasing fades. Psychoses and dementia are inadvertent instances, and in these conditions drugs or chemicals may be employed to dim or eliminate the nonphysical area» — y dónde pone la psicosis y la demencia: instancias inadvertidas del mismo mecanismo, en las que se usan fármacos para atenuar o eliminar la zona no física. Es su clasificación, no un dato clínico; la frase empieza en la plana anterior.

«To understand the process clearly, we may consider the physical body as a tuning mechanism through which the human mind can operate in physical consciousness. As such, it contains circuitry that converts physical sensory patterns into forms that can be perceived by the mind, much as a radio or television receiver is tuned to a particular frequency band in the electromagnetic spectrum. In these receivers, there is a discriminator section that filters out for the most part any distracting or distorting signals or harmonics from other parts of the spectrum. As we tune a radio receiver gradually from one station—or frequency—to another, one signal fades and another is faintly heard. The receiver is shifting out of phase with the original station to the point where another station can be heard simultaneously. As we continue retuning, the original station is no longer heard and the other signal takes over» — la analogía con que explica el mecanismo, y de la que conviene retener el término: el cuerpo como sintonizador con circuitería y un discriminador que filtra señales de otras partes del espectro, igual que un receptor de radio al pasar de una estación a otra.

«The human mind, which also has access to a “discriminator,” acts in a similar way. The mind untrained in the tuning process drifts slowly out of control from one phase of consciousness to another. As it does so, signals are received partly from the physical mechanism and partly from a different segment of the consciousness continuum. The signal input from the physical state diminishes until no such signals reach the mind, which moves into the state generally known as sleep or unconsciousness» — cómo aplica esa analogía a la mente sin entrenar: se le va el control de una fase a otra, recibiendo señales en parte del mecanismo físico y en parte de otro segmento del continuo, hasta lo que se llama sueño o inconsciencia.

«The learning systems devised at the Institute offer a means to place these phase shifts under willful control of the individual. In the early stages of this learning, the mind becomes completely at ease and feels little fear or anxiety in the resulting changes. The reason for this is that these states of consciousness are familiar territory. It is the presentation in a new and organized form that makes the difference, where any changes are made deliberately by the mind itself» — qué aporta entonces el entrenamiento, según él, y por qué dice que no da miedo: los desplazamientos pasan a control voluntario, y esos estados no asustan porque son territorio conocido presentado de forma nueva y organizada.

«The Institute’s investigations led to a path being taken which ran in the opposite direction to that followed by some others involved in mind research. Almost the whole effort has been and is directed to the utilization of left brain methodology, of the intellectual, analytical portion of the mind, to explore the right brain, the intuitive, abstract side» — en qué se aparta del resto de la investigación sobre la mente, y el contraste se consigna sin resolverlo: aquí se usa la metodología del hemisferio izquierdo, la intelectual y analítica, para explorar el derecho.

«In exploration of consciousness, most of the research has been conducted by placing the subject in a booth that insures an isolated environment. Through methods and techniques employing varying patterns of sound, the subject is given the means to enter into different states of consciousness. Outside the booth, a technician operates the audio and various items of electronic measuring equipment and records the subject’s brain waves and other physical responses, while a monitor is in voice communication with the subject in the booth» — el montaje experimental tal como lo describe: el sujeto aislado en una cabina recibe patrones de sonido, y fuera un técnico opera el audio y registra ondas cerebrales y otras respuestas mientras un monitor le habla.

«The stereo headphones worn by the subject give the effect of the monitor being inside the subject’s head. As such, the monitor becomes a surrogate left brain of the subject, encouraging the subject to utilize more of his or her own intellect to know and understand what he or she is doing» — el papel que le asigna a ese monitor, y es el término que organiza el resto del capítulo: los audífonos lo hacen sonar dentro de la cabeza del sujeto, de modo que funciona como hemisferio izquierdo sustituto.

«By this method the subject learns to become objective in his or her experience, and it becomes possible to gather information and details not ordinarily available in purely subjective states of awareness. The result is whole brain thinking of extreme value; cohesive, integrated, without dominance by either part» — qué le atribuye a ese método: que el sujeto se vuelva objetivo sobre su propia experiencia y se recojan detalles no disponibles en estados puramente subjetivos, con un pensamiento de cerebro entero sin dominancia de ninguna parte.

«All of our training systems, whether live or on tape, are nothing less than surrogate left brain devices that enable the user-participant to hold on to his analytical capability during unusual and even exotic states of consciousness. They permit growth through familiarity and understanding, and enable the penetration of the greatest barrier of all—fear» — y qué son entonces todos sus sistemas de entrenamiento, en vivo o en cinta: dispositivos sustitutos del hemisferio izquierdo que dejan al participante conservar su capacidad analítica en estados inusuales, para atravesar la barrera mayor, el miedo.

«We have discovered that right brain territory without limitations is a rich and fertile ground for mining operations by the left brain. It is the coherent whole brain consciousness that produces the precious nuggets» — la imagen minera con que resume el reparto entre hemisferios: el territorio derecho es terreno fértil para las labores del izquierdo, y las pepitas las produce la conciencia de cerebro entero.

«The work is by no means finished. The Institute is still evolving ways to produce replicable physiological data that identify forms of human consciousness generally unknown or unrecognized by» — la deuda que declara abierta en el momento de escribir: siguen sin producir datos fisiológicos replicables que identifiquen formas de conciencia que la norma cultural no reconoce; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«contemporary cultural standards. To take one specific example: we are looking for ways and means to bring to accessible levels the various extraordinary human capabilities that have appeared, seemingly at random, throughout our history. By investigation of individuals who possess these abilities, inherent or acquired, such as composers of music, top-flight mathematicians, outstanding athletes, especially talented therapists, and so on, we seek to discover techniques by the application of which such abilities may be learned» — el programa concreto que pone como ejemplo: estudiar a compositores, matemáticos de primer nivel, atletas destacados y terapeutas dotados para hallar técnicas con que esas capacidades se aprendan. Va en potencial, como búsqueda y no como resultado.

«Continuing investigation along these and similar lines offers the prospect of bringing into understandable and acceptable form the true nature of unorthodox mind phenomena. The inclusion of these into the contemporary cultural context could become a significant event in human history» — lo que espera de esa línea, y lo dice en condicional: llevar los fenómenos mentales heterodoxos a forma comprensible y aceptable, cuya inclusión en el contexto cultural podría ser un acontecimiento significativo.

«But as I look at my work and the work of the Institute, I hear a small voice, a voice that insists on being heard. “Well now,” it says —and I cannot say I feel comfortable to hear it—“if that’s all there is to your life’s work at this point, then there’s certainly something missing. Here you are, showing people how to use the whole of their brains and have a so-called Different Overview, but you don’t seem to be doing anything to prepare them for what really matters. This Earth Life System stuff is all very well, but they don’t stay here forever. They expect more and, I have to tell you, they expect it from you. So—what about it» — la voz con que se cierra el capítulo y que Monroe declara incómoda de oír: le reprocha que enseñe a usar el cerebro entero y a tener un *Different Overview* sin preparar a nadie para lo que de veras importa, porque no se quedan aquí para siempre.

«An account of the methods and techniques of the Institute, and of the practical applications of its technology, will be found in the Addenda» — la nota al pie que remite el detalle técnico a los apéndices; conviene registrar que el índice de este ejemplar no imprime ninguna sección con ese nombre.

«Experienced subjects in the Institute laboratory had reported this many times, but it was not a part of my personal pattern until I began what I called the “quick-switch” method. Thereafter what happened was a fading out of one consciousness state into another. To describe it as “going out-of-phase” seemed more accurate and satisfied better my left brain classification system» — el cambio de vocabulario que declara, y por qué lo hace: al usar el método del *quick-switch* dejó de haber algo que pudiera llamarse movimiento, así que prefiere hablar de salir de fase, que le encaja mejor en su sistema de clasificación.

«However, I had begun to notice that whenever things were going so smoothly a major change was gathering energy. The forewarning was usually so obscure that only in retrospect could it be verified» — la regularidad que dice haberse aprendido a sí mismo, y con qué límite: cuando todo va liso se acumula un cambio grande, cuyo aviso es tan oscuro que solo se verifica en retrospectiva.

«These tests were learning procedures whereby, when I was in an out-of-body state, a given experience was repeated several times until a particular response was evoked in me. The experience was not repeated thereafter» — en qué consistían las pruebas que dice haber encontrado años antes: una experiencia repetida varias veces hasta que evocaba en él una respuesta determinada, y entonces no se repetía más.

«These tests were nonverbal and were apparently conducted by a nonphysical, presumably my INSPEC friend» — con qué cautelas atribuye esas pruebas, y conviene retenerlas porque son suyas: no verbales y aparentemente conducidas por un no físico, presumiblemente su amigo INSPEC.

«after I left the physical state, and I would be asked if I were ready. With complete trust, I would agree. Immediately there would be a loud click, and I would find myself fully immersed in the experience. Gone and forgotten was the fact that it was not “real,” and I would live it totally. At a crucial point where a significant decision had to be made, I would make it. Then there would come another loud click and I was back with the INSPEC. If I had performed satisfactorily, that particular test would not be repeated» — y el procedimiento tal como lo describe: un clic sonoro, inmersión total en la experiencia con olvido de que no era real, una decisión en el punto crucial, otro clic de vuelta, y la prueba no se repetía si la había resuelto.

«It never occurred to me to question why I was being tested and who judged what the correct decision had to be. Most if not all of the tests seemed completely unrelated to this physical life, although many of them were couched in human-Earth settings and situations. I assumed that “someone” smarter than I needed my kind of answers and I, sometimes shakily, was glad to oblige» — lo que reconoce no haberse preguntado nunca, y es la abstención más franca del capítulo: por qué lo examinaban y quién juzgaba cuál era la decisión correcta; supuso que alguien más listo que él necesitaba ese tipo de respuestas.

«This new version seemed much the same, except that there was no supervising INSPEC that I could determine. The episodes occurred months after our last meeting and there had been no sign of the INSPEC’s presence despite my continuing hopes» — qué distingue a los episodios nuevos de aquellas pruebas: no hay INSPEC supervisor que él pueda determinar, y llevan meses sin señal de su presencia pese a que la sigue esperando.

«Moreover, I had not had ordinary dreams or nightmares for years. These incidents became so strong that they could not be ignored» — la razón con que descarta leerlos como sueños vívidos, dicha como dato sobre sí mismo: llevaba años sin sueños ni pesadillas ordinarios, y los episodios se volvieron demasiado fuertes para ignorarlos.

«The blow that got my attention was the discovery that various physiological and mental states were beginning to reflect in my physical waking consciousness as a result of these activities. In all my previous out-of-body adventures, there had been no aftereffects such as these. There had been excitement and exhilaration, or sadness and joy—and these would be expressed in my placid and relaxed physical body upon return. But there had never been stomach nausea, aching arms and legs, rapid heartbeat, the entire nervous system pulled tight. These effects would often last as long as fifteen or twenty minutes after returning» — lo que dice haberlo obligado a moverse, y es el dato somático que separa este episodio de todos los anteriores: náusea, brazos y piernas doloridos, taquicardia y el sistema nervioso tenso al volver, efectos que duraban quince o veinte minutos.

«Thus it wasn’t curiosity but necessity that again pushed me to find answers—the same motivation that years before had led me to explore the out-of-body experience. But this time there was a difference. I was not overloaded with fear and I had tools and friends to work with. And I had at least the beginnings of a map of the territory» — con qué motivo dice haber emprendido esta etapa, y en qué se distingue de la primera: necesidad y no curiosidad, pero esta vez sin el miedo, con herramientas, amigos y el principio de un mapa.

«I have described earlier that, contrary to my own expectations, my whole history of OB experience was left brain dominant. This neatly verified earlier findings as to the value of acquired left brain abilities during Human Mind sojourn in the Earth Life System. One automatically assumed that OB was all right brain stuff because it was not of time-space and therefore was totally unrelated to the logical, analytical thinking process. But this assumption was wrong» — el supuesto que dice haber tenido que corregir en sí mismo: dio por hecho que la experiencia fuera del cuerpo era asunto del hemisferio derecho por no ser del tiempo-espacio, y resultó que toda su historia fue de dominancia izquierda.

«In every one of my OB activities, the reasoning part of me was present to some degree. Moreover, the greater such participation, the greater the growth that took place. Growth in this instance can be construed as “understanding leading to familiarity resulting in application.” Without this acquired ability, it is likely that I still would be wallowing in the air above the bed or existing only via a prescribed daily dose of tranquilizers» — la correlación que afirma y adónde dice que lo habría llevado no tenerla: a mayor participación de la parte razonadora, mayor crecimiento, entendido como comprensión que lleva a familiaridad y desemboca en aplicación; sin esa capacidad seguiría revoloteando sobre la cama o a base de tranquilizantes.

«A typical illustration: In the very early days, I was returning confidently to my physical body from a “local” out-of-body trip, with everything under control, everything working as I was sure it would. Suddenly I slammed against a barrier and came to a stop. I tried to push through it, but it was as hard as plates of steel. I was positive that my physical body was on the other side of the barrier, and thus it was vital that I go through to it. I went up a vast distance but could find no break in the wall. I went down, with the same result, and to the right and the left. There was no way through. I was thoroughly frightened, envisioning spending all eternity plastered against this impenetrable wall. I tried every prayer I could think of, screamed for help, and finally draped myself against the barrier sobbing much like a lost child—which I was» — el episodio con que ilustra esa tesis: una barrera dura como placas de acero que no pudo rodear por arriba, por abajo ni por los lados, y ante la cual dice haber rezado, gritado y sollozado como un niño perdido.

«After what seemed an eternity, when my sobbing had worn itself out, I leaned back and began to reason. If I couldn’t go through the barrier, if I couldn’t go over it, under it, or around it, that left only one option—to go back in the direction whence I had come. No matter what I had believed, it could be the only answer. I did so … and moments later I was back in my physical body with ridiculous ease—thanks to left brain logic» — y cómo salió de ahí, que es lo que quiere mostrar: descartadas las demás direcciones por razonamiento, quedaba volver por donde había venido, contra lo que él creía.

«Vast differences in situation and setting had to be taken into account, but the investigative and learning processes were exactly the same. Nevertheless, once the situation was in place answers and solutions did not appear magically. The analytical tool we call the left brain neatly provided them. I may not have liked them as they evolved but I could not deny their accuracy» — cómo generaliza esa lección, con la acotación de que las respuestas no aparecen solas: cambian los escenarios pero el proceso de investigación es el mismo, y las soluciones las provee la herramienta analítica; a veces no le gustaron, sin poder negarles exactitud.

«What we need to do, whether in- or out-of-body, is to ignore or tear down the No Trespassing signs, the taboos, the notice that says Holy of Holies, the distortions of time and translation, the soft black holes of euphoria, the mysticisms, the myths, the fantasies of an eternal father or mother image, and then take a good look with our acquired and growing left brain. Nothing is sacred to the point where it should not be investigated or put under inquiry» — el programa que enuncia ahí, y es de lo más antirritual del libro: derribar los letreros de prohibido el paso, los tabúes, el santo de los santos, los misticismos, los mitos y la fantasía del padre eterno, porque nada es sagrado hasta el punto de no poder investigarse.

«We must grant that this requires a quantum leap for our Different Overview. It can be compared to getting out of local traffic with its confusion, snarls, and stoplights and taking the Interstate—a major highway into the Unknown. The map that we are developing will cover the route as far as our active consciousness patterns can extend it» — de dónde sale el nombre de la carretera que atraviesa el libro entero: salir del tránsito local con sus enredos y semáforos y tomar la Interestatal, una vía mayor hacia lo desconocido.

«But mapping the Interstate is one matter; traveling it is something else. It cannot become an absolute Known until it is actually traversed by the individual with the left brain in full and active mode. Unless, that is, you begin to remember what it is like. All the same, the map and a Different Overview may help you to construct a more accurate belief that may eventually be easier to convert into a Known» — y la reserva epistémica con que cierra la imagen: el mapa no se vuelve *Known* absoluto hasta que el individuo lo recorra él mismo, y a lo sumo ayuda a construir una creencia más exacta que después sea más fácil de convertir.

«My left brain insisted that the physically distracting new signals were caused by some important detail that I had missed. Was this, I wondered, the clue or cue to the missing Basic» — cómo lee las secuelas físicas, y lo deja como pregunta: su hemisferio izquierdo insiste en que las señales vienen de un detalle importante que se le pasó, y se pregunta si es la pista del *Basic* que falta.

«I had two options. The first was, now that I understood better, to go back to the beginning to pick up what I had missed. The second was to lie around in a beautiful cloud of love and keep on wondering: what if …? The first seemed more constructive» — las dos opciones que se plantea y cómo describe la que descarta, sin piedad para consigo: volver al principio a recoger lo que se le pasó, o quedarse tendido en una hermosa nube de amor preguntándose qué habría pasado.

«Having made my choice, I began to move out of phase at about three the following morning. Then I used the quick-switch method to the earliest point in my conscious memory. At once I felt a signal vibrating within me. I followed it—and came upon a scene I remembered well. There was someone beside me—it felt like a brother. He seemed nervous. I was pointing at the figure of a man lying facedown in the middle of a dusty road. He was a youngster, no more than eighteen» — la maniobra con que abre el episodio y adónde lo lleva: el *quick-switch* al punto más temprano de su memoria consciente, siguiendo una señal que vibra dentro de él, hasta un hombre boca abajo en un camino polvoriento.

«A battle was going on all around him. Some fifty or sixty men in short brown togas with wide leather belts around their waists were fighting an approximately equal number of dark, bearded men, small in stature but who seemed to have incredible strength. Both sides were armed with short swords, spears, and round shields. There was shouting, moaning, and screaming, the clanging of metal against metal, clouds of dust, blood spurting, confusion. The wide belts, it seemed, were losing» — la escena tal como la describe, sin nombrar época ni bando: unos cincuenta o sesenta hombres de toga parda y cinturón ancho de cuero contra otros tantos hombres oscuros y barbados, bajos y de fuerza increíble, con espadas cortas, lanzas y escudos redondos.

«The eighteen-year-old, who wore a wide belt, was struggling to pull himself up. The problem was the spear which was holding him down. The spear had penetrated his back, gone all the way through his body and deep into the dirt of the road. His efforts became slower and weaker, until they ceased» — cómo muere el muchacho en su relato: una lanza que le atraviesa la espalda y se clava en la tierra del camino, y los intentos de levantarse que se apagan.

«Suddenly, I remembered that years ago I had felt the pain of the spear in my back, but this time it was different. I turned to the man beside me. He was in obvious pain. I asked him if he understood. He nodded, then turned and moved away, and disappeared» — el dato que enlaza esta escena con su propia historia: años atrás había sentido el dolor de esa lanza en la espalda, y esta vez fue distinto. El acompañante que estaba a su lado se va sin decir palabra.

«I saw his head—no, not his physical head—lift out of his body, and I reached over, grabbed it, and pulled. He slid out easily» — la operación que dice haber hecho, con la corrección que se aplica a media frase: no la cabeza física, sino algo que sale al tirar de ella.

«I must get back into the fight. My friends are dying.” I told him that was impossible as he himself was dead. “What are you saying? I am strong—I can think» — lo que el muerto reciente contesta cuando le dicen que está muerto, y es el argumento que le opone: es fuerte y puede pensar. Es voz del muchacho, no de Monroe.

«I pointed behind him where his physical body lay in the dust, blood congealing around it. He turned and stared at it, dumbfounded. He bent over and peered intently at the dead face. Then he looked up at me. “But … I’m alive! I’m not dead» — y qué pasa cuando le muestran el cuerpo propio en el polvo: se queda mirando la cara muerta y sostiene igual que está vivo.

«I gave up trying because I was so weak. I heard you calling—and there was a click. And I stood up.” I pointed to his body in the dust. He glanced at it, then turned back to me. “But I’m not dead! How can I stand and talk to you if I’m dead» — cómo cuenta el muchacho su propia muerte, y de paso qué papel le asigna a Monroe en ella: la debilidad, la llamada que oyó, un clic y ponerse de pie.

«I suggested he try to rejoin the battle, but that was a mistake. He rushed away into the thick of the swords and spears, into the tumult and confusion. When a sword swing he couldn’t dodge went through him with no effect, he watched in fascination. A moment later a short, bearded man attacked him from behind and the two fell to the ground punching and gouging one another. It took me a second or two to realize that the bearded man also had dropped his physical attachment in the battle. They might still be rolling on the ground centuries later, trying to kill each other» — la escena que Monroe llama su error, y de la que saca la imagen más dura del capítulo: dos muertos que no saben que lo están, forcejeando en el suelo y que podrían seguir siglos después tratando de matarse.

«I went over to the struggling duo and shouted that they were wasting their energy. They were both physically dead, I insisted, and there was no way they could hurt each other. I repeated this until they finally got the message. They rolled apart and looked at me. The bearded man got on his knees, bent forward, and touched his head to the ground, moaning an unintelligible chant» — cómo los separa y qué hace el barbado al entenderlo: arrodillarse, tocar el suelo con la cabeza y salmodiar algo ininteligible.

«He thinks you’re a god. Are you?” “No,” I replied. “Just a friend.” He felt the place where the spear had penetrated. “There’s no hole, no blood … Are you sure you’re not a god» — la pregunta que Monroe se niega a aprovechar, y su respuesta, que es la que fija su posición en todo el libro: no un dios, solo un amigo.

«Around us, the battle was less intense. More forms were moving out of destroyed and dismembered bodies. Soon the place would be crowded with ex-physical humans, all with bewildered expressions on their faces» — lo que dice ver alrededor mientras la batalla decae: más formas saliendo de cuerpos destruidos, con el sitio a punto de llenarse de humanos ex físicos con cara de desconcierto.

«I hesitated, but a deep inner surge immediately gave me the answer. I grasped his hand and started to move upward. He looked uncertain. “I … I’m not a bird—I can’t fly!” I gently pulled on his hand and slowly we rose above the» — cómo resuelve la petición del muchacho de irse con él —por un impulso interior, no por razonamiento— y la objeción que éste opone, que no es pájaro y no puede volar; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«battlefield. It took but a moment for his anxiety to drop away, and we both shouted in joy as we sped up and out. In my mind I hit the return code on the quick-switch system. There was a flare of light and we hung motionless in the lighter grays of the intermediate rings. I felt the youngster’s hand in mine. The question was, where do I drop him off? Just as I was about to ask him, I became aware that the pressure of his hand had gone. I whirled around. Nothing. No youngster. Nobody. What was going on» — y cómo termina el traslado, en desconcierto declarado: la mano del muchacho deja de hacer presión en los anillos intermedios y no queda nadie, sin que Monroe sepa qué ocurrió.

«This event was similar to a previous happening in an out-of-body experience many years earlier, but with some basic differences. Then I was the person who was being shown the dying youngster because I myself had experienced an inexplicable physical abdominal pain. Now I was the one who was showing the “old me” the reason. I had, it seemed, answered an earlier call for help—from myself» — la lectura que da del episodio, y es el giro del capítulo: en la ocasión anterior era a él a quien le mostraban al muchacho moribundo, por un dolor abdominal inexplicable; ahora era él quien se lo mostraba a su yo antiguo, respondiendo a su propia llamada de auxilio.

«It was much like hearing someone call for help, or a telephone ringing when you know it’s your phone. It was not difficult to home in on it» — con qué compara la señal que lo lleva al episodio siguiente: alguien que pide ayuda, o un teléfono que suena cuando uno sabe que es el suyo.

«There lying on a cot was a man thrashing around wildly. Hanging on to his back were two children, about four or five years old, riding out the bucking and pitching. The man was sobbing in fear and desperately trying to pull the two little ones off his shoulders» — la escena que encuentra abajo: un hombre revolviéndose en un catre, sollozando de miedo, con dos niños de cuatro o cinco años montados en la espalda de los que trata de desprenderse.

«I reached over and gently pulled the children away from him. He lay back in the cot whimpering in relief. I looked down at the children lying quietly, one cradled in each of my arms. They were not children but cats—pets I remembered well. Cats in an OB state» — y el remate, que es el hallazgo del episodio: los niños no eran niños sino gatos, mascotas que dice recordar bien, en estado fuera del cuerpo.

«This time, however, I was the one who was doing the showing. I was the one who took the then worried me to the old battle scene hundreds or even thousands of years ago to explain the pain. So I was the one who was helping me. Also I was the young warrior dying in the dust—that was the only way it made sense. That meant, therefore, there were three versions of me at the same place at the same time» — la cuenta que saca del episodio de la batalla, y es lo que abre el problema del capítulo: él que muestra, él a quien le muestran y él que muere en el polvo, tres versiones suyas en el mismo sitio y el mismo momento.

«In the second event from years back, I had been the one screaming for help, trying to dislodge the little demons who wanted to ride me like a horse, who seemed to own me. And then a serious-looking man came down the steps and took them off me, held them in his arms, and suddenly disappeared. I remembered that he had looked familiar, like a cousin I had known. But this time I was the one who came down the steps and helped by taking the little cat friends away. I had come to help when I screamed for it! This, I thought, was a little less complicated—there were only two of me present» — y la misma cuenta sobre el episodio de los gatos: años atrás era él quien gritaba pidiendo ayuda y un hombre de aspecto serio, parecido a un primo suyo, se los quitaba de encima; esta vez era él quien bajaba las escaleras.

«Were all of such current nonphysical events simply calls or screams for help from other I’s in different times and places? Who was this I that had the audacity to answer these calls? Have I been helping me through all these years» — las tres preguntas que se hace y deja sin contestar: si todos esos episodios son llamadas de auxilio de otros yoes en otros tiempos, quién es el yo que se atreve a responderlas, y si lleva todos esos años ayudándose a sí mismo.

«The apparent multiplicity and interchangeability of self had yet to fit a pattern I could accept or understand. Nor did it provide an answer to the uncontrolled events that were so disturbing to my physical life. Were they all cries for help? From an earlier me? The prospect was overwhelming» — la abstención que consigna en el momento, y se ficha como abstención: la multiplicidad e intercambiabilidad aparentes del yo todavía no le encajaban en un patrón que pudiera aceptar ni entender.

«What my left brain told me was happening was that I from the future had been going back in time to help the I of the past when» — la hipótesis que dice haberle dado su hemisferio izquierdo, y la atribuye a él y no al hallazgo: que él, desde el futuro, volvía atrás en el tiempo a auxiliar a su yo del pasado; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«needed. The signals for help were coming from earlier versions of me, not only in this life but in previous ones. I wondered if this was the same for everybody» — y hasta dónde extiende esa hipótesis, con la generalización dejada en duda: las señales vendrían de versiones anteriores suyas, no solo de esta vida sino de otras, y se pregunta si a todos les pasa igual.

«I slipped in through the front wall and in the foyer encountered a woman about fifty years old, gray-haired, small and thin. She was wandering through the house from room to room and when I put out my hand to intercept her she seemed surprised that I was there and was paying attention to her. “Are you here to hang the pictures again» — cómo entra en el episodio siguiente y qué le dice la mujer que encuentra, sin advertir nada raro: si viene a colgar de nuevo los cuadros.

«They took all the pictures down, out of my house. My house! Now no one even speaks to me.” I asked her why she stayed there. Why didn’t she leave? “This is my house. This is where I belong. I don’t care if no one notices me anymore» — lo que la mujer sostiene, en voz suya: es su casa, es donde le corresponde estar, y no le importa que ya nadie la note.

«I asked her if she remembered dying. “Dying? Of course not! I was sick, but I got well. One minute I was sick and the next thing I knew I was up and walking around» — la respuesta que da al preguntarle si recuerda haber muerto, y es la posición que Monroe encuentra una y otra vez: estuvo enferma y sanó.

«I bet you can’t pick up that dining room chair,” I said. “Your hand will go right through it. You’ll see!” “That’s ridiculous!” she exclaimed. “Of course I can pick it up. I’ll show you.” She tried several times, and each time her hand went through the chair back. She looked at me in confusion» — la prueba con que Monroe procede en lugar de argumentar: retarla a levantar una silla del comedor, y la mano le atraviesa el respaldo cada vez.

«I showed her that my hand went through the chair back just as hers had done. She looked amazed. “You have the same problem!” People have this problem, I explained, when their physical body dies. “But … but I’m alive!” It is the body that dies, I told her. The body. Not you» — cómo le desmonta la explicación por alucinación senil —mostrándole que a él le pasa lo mismo— y la fórmula con que se lo dice: lo que muere es el cuerpo, no ella.

«I was waiting for William to come back, but he hasn’t. And I love my house so much. He built it just for me» — a qué está atada, según ella misma: a la casa que William le construyó y a esperar que él vuelva.

«And you are … an angel? You don’t look like one. You’re real normal.” I was, I assured her, just a friend. She shrank back. “I’ve never met you before in my life! You’re not a friend! You must be one of Satan’s devils» — las dos lecturas que la mujer le aplica a Monroe en cuestión de segundos, y ninguna es la que él ofrece: ángel primero, y demonio de Satanás cuando él se declara nada más que un amigo.

«If you really were a devil’s helper, I couldn’t possibly chase you away, could I» — el razonamiento con que la mujer se retracta de haberlo tomado por demonio: si de veras lo fuera, ella no habría podido echarlo. La frase se corta aquí por el corte de bloque, en esta misma plana.

«I told her I didn’t know because I had never met one. “It’s been so lonely … Can we really find William» — y la respuesta de Monroe del otro lado del corte, que se ficha como abstención y no como negación: no sabe, porque nunca ha conocido a ninguno.

«I pulled her hand gently and she began to rise easily. Excitement glowed in her» — cómo resuelve la objeción de la mujer, que decía no saber flotar: tirando suavemente de su mano, y ella empieza a subir sin dificultad; la escena sigue en la plana siguiente.

«Oh, what fun! Is this being dead? My, my! Let’s go find William! Won’t he be surprised» — y el cambio de ánimo que sigue, en voz de ella: pregunta si eso es estar muerta y propone ir a buscar a William.

«We cruised slowly more and more out-of-phase. I remembered the previous point where we had met, many years before. It was in a rented house in Westchester County, New York, where I lived temporarily. She was still hanging around the house months after her physical death. At the time, I had gently backed away from the contact. Now I knew better» — el dato biográfico que Monroe intercala, y que convierte al episodio en un encuentro repetido: la había visto años antes en una casa rentada en el condado de Westchester, meses después de la muerte de ella, y entonces se retiró del contacto.

«But she held on firmly, making excited comments as we passed through the inner rings of the Belief System Territories. I was becoming impressed. William had more to him than I had estimated, based upon her perceived radiation of him. He should be here. But now the only place he could be was in the outer phases. He had kept his progress well hidden from his wife, that was certain» — qué concluye Monroe al no aparecer William en los anillos interiores de los *Belief System Territories*: que el marido estaba mucho más lejos de lo que la radiación de ella dejaba estimar, y le había ocultado su avance.

«I was about to ask her more about William when I no longer felt her hand in mine. I turned instantly, but she was gone, completely disappeared. There was no sign at all of her radiation. The only answer I could come up with was that William was very good indeed if he was this far out in the rings» — y cómo termina también este traslado, con la única explicación que se le ocurre y nada más que eso: la mujer desaparece sin dejar radiación, y él lo atribuye a que William estuviera muy afuera en los anillos.

«A few weeks later I tried again. The process was becoming so smooth that it was hard to define when I actually left the body. It was more the fading out of one state of being and into another, similar to falling asleep and staying conscious while doing so» — cómo describe el estado de su técnica en ese punto, y es lo que ya no permite hablar de salir del cuerpo: un desvanecerse de un estado en otro, parecido a dormirse permaneciendo consciente.

«I was still hesitant to use the quick-switch method for “short hops.” It would be like taking a Concorde to fly from Newark to Kennedy» — por qué reserva el *quick-switch* para los trayectos largos, con la imagen que lo explica: sería tomar el Concorde para ir de Newark a Kennedy.

«Out looking for the secrets of the universe, is that it?” “I guess that’s what I’m doing.” “Good luck! I’m having a hard enough time without looking for anything more.” “Why, what’s the matter?” “The matter? I went and died, that’s what’s the matter!” “What’s wrong with that?” “Nothing wrong, except I sure wasn’t ready for it» — cómo se presenta el hombre del episodio siguiente, y en qué pone la queja: no en haber muerto, sino en no haber estado listo. Es su voz, no la de Monroe.

«Well, I could have been but nobody told me! Nobody told me it was going to be like this! Those bastards yelling and screaming about gates of heaven, hellfire and damnation—they didn’t know what they were talking about! Anyway, I wish you luck, because they could have told me like it is instead of giving me a bunch of hogwash» — y contra quién la dirige, que es lo que hace del pasaje una posición sobre la predicación religiosa: los que gritaban sobre puertas del cielo, fuego del infierno y condenación no sabían de qué hablaban, y pudieron haberle dicho las cosas como son.

«That’s what I mean! Nothing, absolutely nothing! Hey, you know you’re the first person I’ve met? Nothing—but nothing—and then you come along» — qué encuentra en lugar de lo prometido, dicho por él mismo: nada en absoluto, y Monroe es la primera persona con quien se topa.

«They made me do it, that’s how! Lying around in a hospital for weeks and weeks … I wanted to go home—but no, they kept me there with all the tubes and needles stuck in me. So one night I just yanked them all out. On the night shift—nobody ever came around to see me on the night shift, nobody» — cómo cuenta su propia muerte, y de quién la hace responsable: semanas de hospital con tubos y agujas queriendo irse a casa, hasta que una noche se los arrancó todos en el turno en que nadie pasaba a verlo.

«I started coughing and then I stopped. I thought, well, I’d better slide the hell out of bed and get going. I must have jumped a bit because I went right out through the ceiling and kept on going until» — cómo cuenta el momento mismo de morir, sin ceremonia ninguna: se bajó de la cama para irse, dio un salto de más y atravesó el techo; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«I found myself here. When I went through the ceiling, that’s when I knew I’d gone and died. Pretty smart, hunh» — y cómo dedujo que había muerto, con el orgullo de la deducción incluido: atravesar el techo fue lo que se lo dijo.

«No you don’t! Every time somebody tried to help me, it just meant trouble! You get out of here!” “I’m not forcing you. I’m only trying to be helpful.” “You keep your hands off me! You keep away» — el rechazo del ofrecimiento de Monroe, y el motivo que el hombre le da: cada vez que alguien trató de ayudarlo solo trajo problemas.

«Go on, get out of here! And you get somebody to tell you straight! Don’t you get taken in with the fancy talk. Nobody told me … and they could have! I would have listened—but no! Now I’ve got to find out all by myself and I sure as hell don’t know how to do that! Don’t even know where to start» — la despedida del hombre, que repite su reclamo y lo deja sin resolver: que a Monroe se lo digan derecho, porque a él nadie se lo dijo y ahora tiene que averiguarlo solo sin saber por dónde empezar.

«I backed away and the strange glow faded. When I returned later it was gone. I have wondered since how he did get help. Enough was enough sometimes» — cómo cierra Monroe ese encuentro, sin arreglarlo: al volver más tarde el resplandor ya no estaba, y desde entonces se pregunta cómo consiguió ayuda.

«It takes experience and finely honed reason to operate in such conditions, and mine were marginal at best. Any help comes from the top down, I thought— not from the bottom up» — lo que se reconoce a sí mismo en ese terreno, y es una autoevaluación severa: su experiencia y su razón afinada eran marginales en el mejor de los casos, y sostiene que la ayuda viene de arriba abajo.

«And I had discovered another facet. Not all of the signals I received came from an earlier me. William’s wife was not a part of me, nor was the angry little man, as far as I could determine» — la corrección que se hace a la hipótesis de los yoes anteriores, con la cautela dentro: la mujer de William y el hombre enojado no eran parte de él, hasta donde pudo determinar.

«So I came to a conclusion. Helping others goes with the job. While you’re helping yourself, you automatically lend a hand to others, if you can do so. But I was missing an important element. Why did this sequence of events suddenly pop up in my activity pattern? Was this another key to the missing Basic» — la conclusión con que cierra el capítulo y lo que le queda pendiente: ayudar a otros viene con el oficio, y sigue sin saber por qué esa secuencia irrumpió de golpe en su actividad.

«It was beginning to seem a never-ending task, this answering of signals for help each time I went out-of-body, and it was certainly an inefficient way to do whatever was needed. I could spend the rest of my available physical life period doing this and nothing else and still make no perceptible dent in the mass of such signals» — cómo evalúa la tarea que le cayó encima, y no la ennoblece: responder señales una por una es ineficiente, y podría dedicarle el resto de su vida física sin hacerle mella perceptible al montón.

«The question was: why had I suddenly become exposed to these signals after so many years? And another question: why were they causing distress in my physical body» — las dos preguntas que se plantea y que organizan el capítulo: por qué quedó expuesto a esas señales después de tantos años, y por qué le producen malestar en el cuerpo.

«It seemed that most if not all of these signals were originating in areas off the Interstate (as I was now accustomed to regard it) immediately adjoining the termination of physical existence, or death as we humans call it. I knew something of these areas but was not familiar with them» — dónde sitúa el origen de las señales, con la ignorancia declarada: zonas fuera de la Interestatal, contiguas al término de la existencia física, de las que sabía algo sin conocerlas.

«The signal flashed me to a city, then to an apartment building, and tightened in to a bedroom in one of the mid-rise apartments. There was a large and fancy king-size bed with three naked people in it, two men and a woman. One of the men was having very active sex with the woman, while the other was attempting to get in between them, with no success. Each time he tried, he fell through the bed to» — la primera escena adonde lo lleva una señal: una cama con tres personas desnudas, dos hombres y una mujer, uno de ellos tratando de meterse entre los otros dos y cayendo a través de la cama cada vez.

«What do you mean it won’t work? I’ve been waiting ten years to get this piece of ass, and now I’m going to get it!” Again I indicated that it was no use. Things were different with him now. “You better believe they’re different! I’m free now! I don’t know what happened, but I’m free! And as soon as I found out, I came here. Now if she would just stop having it with Sammy, I could get it on with her» — lo que el muerto reciente sostiene, en voz suya: lleva diez años esperando ese momento, se siente libre y vino en cuanto lo supo.

«Oh, that! I’d just come up out of the subway at Fifty-third and Madison and suddenly I felt a pain in my chest. I fell down. I wasn’t down on the sidewalk long, just a minute maybe, and I got up. Man, did I feel different! What business is it of yours, anyway» — cómo cuenta su propia muerte sin saber que lo es: un dolor en el pecho al salir del metro en la Cincuenta y tres con Madison, un minuto en la banqueta y a levantarse sintiéndose distinto.

«I reminded him about his falling through the bed, unable to touch either the man or the woman. He looked at his hands, then down at his replicated body. “But I’m still me! I still feel like me! I guess I still act like me!” He laughed and I joined in. I remarked that we don’t change that much when we die, at least not right away» — lo que le devuelve al mostrarle la evidencia, y la tesis que Monroe repite en todo el capítulo: no se cambia tanto al morir, al menos no de inmediato.

«I was about to reply when I noticed the woman in the bed. Her eyes were open and she was staring straight at me. She was actually seeing me! Her eyes widened with astonishment but she didn’t seem afraid. She looked straight into my eyes, and there was knowledge in her stare» — el detalle que interrumpe la escena y es el hallazgo del episodio: la mujer viva de la cama lo estaba viendo, con asombro pero sin miedo, y había conocimiento en su mirada.

«Just as we went through the ceiling, I looked back at the girl in the bed. She was still watching, and our eyes met. I knew I wouldn’t have to come after her. She already knew» — y qué concluye de ese cruce de miradas al salir: que no tendría que ir por ella, porque ya sabía.

«I looked below. There was the Pile, the huge mass of ex-physical humans, writhing and struggling in an endless attempt to have sex with one another. The man’s heavy radiation had diverted our path. Suddenly he wrenched his hand loose and dived into the mass» — el lugar que nombra como *the Pile*, y cómo pierde al hombre que llevaba: una masa enorme de humanos ex físicos revolviéndose en un intento interminable de tener sexo unos con otros, hacia la que la radiación pesada del hombre desvió el trayecto.

«I should have been alert to the diversion. Well, win a few, lose a few, I said to myself. I moved away, thinking that I would get him» — cómo se lo reprocha, y con qué fórmula lo despacha: debió estar atento a la desviación, y unas se ganan y otras se pierden; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«There was a small figure, a woman, in the bed with all the gadgetry attached to her. She was folded up in a near-fetal position. Her hair was gray and stringy, her face wrinkled. She looked very old. As I approached I could perceive her moaning and gasping. Yet the sheet was over her head» — la segunda escena y el detalle que la resuelve antes de que hable nadie: una mujer encogida entre aparatos, gimiendo, con la sábana ya cubriéndole la cabeza.

«I’m dying, that’s why. I’ve been dying for years but nobody would believe me.” I believe you, I told her. “That’s all you doctors say, but you don’t mean it.” I told her I wasn’t a doctor, and that I did believe her. “If you’re not a doctor it doesn’t count. It’s the doctor who has to believe me» — lo que la mujer sostiene, en voz suya, y a quién le concede autoridad: lleva años muriéndose sin que nadie le crea, y si quien le cree no es médico, no cuenta.

«So that they’ll let me die. Then I won’t have any more pain.” I suggested that she didn’t need a doctor to believe her. Did she really want to die? I asked. “Of course I do! Why else would I be going through all this pain» — para qué quiere esa creencia ajena: para que la dejen morir y se le acabe el dolor.

«I told her that being physically dead doesn’t change you much at first. You just don’t have a physical body anymore—you’re only remembering the pain now, but you don’t have the pain itself. Look around, I said; see for yourself» — la distinción con que Monroe le explica su estado, y es la que da sentido a toda la serie de encuentros: no hay cuerpo físico ya, de modo que lo que tiene es el recuerdo del dolor y no el dolor.

«Ernie …? Is that you, Ernie?” I reached for her hand and suggested we go where friends were waiting. She held back. “Why didn’t you come before? I’ve been calling for you night and day to come and get me» — por quién lo toma la mujer, y el reproche que le hace en consecuencia: llevaba día y noche llamando a Ernie para que viniera por ella.

«I said that she had to die first. Now that she had died, it was all right. I held out my hand again and she took it firmly. “Ernie … Ernie!” We started to move up and out slowly. I asked her about the pain. She looked puzzled. “The pain? Oh, the pain. It isn’t important now, is it» — la respuesta que Monroe le da a ese reproche —había que morir primero— y cómo queda el dolor una vez fuera del cuerpo, en voz de ella.

«I took it slowly as we moved further out-of-phase and into the area of the Belief System Territories because I wanted to see what was happening. I was trying to determine exactly where we were—somewhere above the midpoint—when I could no longer» — por qué esta vez avanza despacio hacia los *Belief System Territories*: quería ver qué pasaba y determinar dónde estaban exactamente; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«feel her hand in mine. I refocused as fast as I could but it was too late. She was gone. Picking up pieces and dropping them along the way was surely not how it was supposed to be. It was certainly not productive» — y cómo termina también este traslado, con el juicio que Monroe se hace: recoger piezas y soltarlas por el camino no puede ser el modo, y desde luego no es productivo. La frase empieza en la plana anterior.

«There was a flash and I was over an alley in a small town. I looked for the reason—and there it was, just below me. He was hiding behind a cluster of trash cans in the alley. On the street nearby a pair of police cars, red and blue lights flashing, had angled up to the curb. On the sidewalk in front of a store entrance lay a crumpled form in a pool of blood. A crowd of morbid spectators was gathering, held back by a yellow band of plastic» — la tercera escena, montada por lo que se ve desde arriba: un callejón, dos patrullas con las torretas encendidas y un cuerpo desmadejado en un charco de sangre frente a la entrada de una tienda.

«The skinny boy crouched behind them couldn’t have been more than seventeen, and he would never get any older. Not this time anyway. I asked him to stand up. He did slowly, uncertain, alert, ready to run if he got the chance» — a quién encuentra detrás de los botes de basura, y con qué frase lo consigna: un muchacho flaco que no llegaba a los diecisiete y que no cumpliría más, alerta y listo para correr.

«I don’t need no help, not from no fuckin’ cop.” I asked him why he was hiding if he didn’t need any help. “What do you mean, why? That shithead in the store had a piece and he started shootin’» — cómo lee el muchacho la situación, en su propia habla: toma a Monroe por policía y explica el tiroteo por el arma del de la tienda.

«I told him the bullet had caught a corner of his heart which let him live just long enough to stagger out of the store and fall dead on the sidewalk» — lo que Monroe le dice sin rodeos, y es la mecánica exacta de su muerte: la bala le tomó una esquina del corazón y le alcanzó para salir tambaleándose de la tienda y caer muerto en la banqueta.

«What kind of shit is that? If I’m dead, what the hell am I doin’ standin’ here and talkin’ to you?” I pointed to the street behind me and suggested he take a look for himself. Still keeping one eye on me, he sidled to the corner of the alley and peered down the street. He forgot me completely, fixed on what he saw. Eventually he turned and slumped down to a sitting position and buried his face in his knees» — la objeción del muchacho y cómo se derrumba al asomarse a la calle: olvida a Monroe por completo, se sienta y hunde la cara entre las rodillas.

«They still got cops after you’re dead?” I smiled and shook my head. But there were better places to be than hanging around in a back alley» — la primera pregunta que hace ya sabiéndose muerto, que dice bastante de con qué mapa llegó: si sigue habiendo policías después de morir.

«I remember puttin’ out my hands to break the fall when I hit the concrete. And before that, I remember lettin’ go of my piece when the cashier shot at me from behind the counter. So I couldn’t shoot back. It was like somebody hittin’ me with a tire iron in my chest. Then I got out the door and I remember hittin’ the sidewalk. It was like there was a big click in my head—and I got up and ran into the alley» — cómo cuenta él mismo lo que pasó, y aparece otra vez el mismo detalle de los demás relatos: soltó el arma al recibir el disparo, sintió el golpe como de una llave de cruz en el pecho, y tras caer en la banqueta hubo un chasquido en la cabeza y se levantó.

«I told him his Uncle Ben sent me. He laughed. “Ben? Ben the boozer? Come on, he didn’t even know I was around! He died when I was a kid! I know! It’s all a new shtick you cops put up to get me to roll over! You come on—take me in and stop all this shit about bein’ dead» — a quién invoca Monroe para hacerse creer y cómo le sale: el muchacho se ríe del tío Ben, muerto cuando él era niño, y lo toma por una treta policial nueva.

«We got there just as the ambulance was arriving. We stood directly over the body—there was blood all over the place—and watched as they rolled the body over, checked for any vital signs, and put it on a gurney. They threw a cloth over the face, but not before the kid beside me had got a good look. Anyway, I knew he could still see the face, cloth or no cloth» — cómo le da la prueba al muchacho, y el detalle con que Monroe la cierra: le echan un paño sobre la cara al cuerpo, pero él sabe que el muchacho seguía viéndola de todos modos.

«I wasn’t. At a given point, the kid disappeared. One moment he was there, and then he was gone. Not even a wisp of radiation remained. Wherever I searched—nothing» — y cómo termina también este traslado, con la vigilancia que se había impuesto de nada: el muchacho desaparece sin dejar ni una hebra de radiación.

«There was just one clue. That night there were fewer penetrating signals. My sleep periods were less hectic. Was it cause and effect? Perhaps I was taking the right path—but even if I was, my left brain was screaming out for more data» — el único indicio que reúne, y lo deja explícitamente como pregunta y no como resultado: esa noche hubo menos señales penetrantes, sin que pueda decir si hay causa y efecto.

«I certainly wasn’t cut out for this job. I kept losing them» — el juicio que se hace sobre su propio desempeño en esta serie de rescates, sin atenuarlo: no estaba hecho para ese trabajo, porque los perdía.

«Then, several weeks later, another change surfaced. I was lying down and relaxing easily when I was suddenly hit by a strong help signal, on what I understood to be my own frequency, even before I was out-of-body. My physical body responded with a strong sense of heat. Quickly I rolled out and followed the signal. Somewhere over the Belief System Territories the signal led off down an exit ramp» — la novedad del episodio siguiente y el efecto somático que trae: la señal de auxilio le llega en lo que entiende como su propia frecuencia, antes de salir del cuerpo, y el cuerpo responde con una fuerte sensación de calor.

«It did not take me long to find the source. The belief system radiation gave me a picture of a steep rocky cliff with a heavy, humid jungle below. I wondered why it was so clear and real to me. This was unusually rare; the belief system activity is generally dim and hazy to me at best» — la anomalía que consigna al llegar, y que él mismo marca como rara: la radiación del sistema de creencias le da una imagen nítida y real, cuando la actividad de esos sistemas se le suele presentar tenue y borrosa.

«A small mature female stood at the edge of the cliff. Behind her were some fifty or sixty assorted males and females of all ages. They were humanoid, partly dressed in animal skins, with heavy, Neanderthal-like heads and facial structures» — a quiénes encuentra: una hembra adulta pequeña al borde del acantilado y detrás unos cincuenta o sesenta humanoides de todas las edades, en parte vestidos con pieles y de cabezas y rostros que compara con los neandertales.

«Reason immediately wanted to know why I was buying into this particular belief system. The only answer was the obvious one: at some time it was part of me» — la pregunta que se hace a sí mismo por estar viendo ese sistema de creencias y la única respuesta que se da: en algún momento fue parte de él.

«The scene brought back what I called “the lure of tropical Pacifica” that I had half-suppressed throughout my life. The call of the ocean was reflected in my sailboat adventures and scuba diving. Then there was my going to Hawaii for a weekend and staying for three weeks; going to Ecuador for three weeks and staying for three months—and almost taking up a career in the tropical lowlands. I always felt immense nostalgia in tropical settings» — con qué conecta la escena en su propia biografía: el llamado del océano en la vela y el buceo, un fin de semana en Hawái que duró tres semanas, tres semanas en Ecuador que duraron tres meses y la carrera en los trópicos que estuvo a punto de tomar.

«As I positioned myself on the ledge beside the female, the group behind her shrank back and covered their eyes. I turned to the female, who was staring at me with calm appraisal. Could we communicate, I wondered. At my thought, she smiled. “You came.” “Yes, I did. But why did you call me» — cómo reacciona el grupo a su llegada y cómo se abre el diálogo: los de atrás se encogen y se tapan los ojos, la hembra lo mira con calma y le dice que vino.

«I called a picture.” “Why did you do that?” “Are you Megus?” She looked at me carefully. “No, you are not.” “You called for Megus. Why?” “Because Megus does not know something is wrong here» — a quién llamaba en realidad, en voz de ella: llamó una imagen, buscando a Megus, porque Megus no sabe que algo anda mal ahí.

«Oh, yes. I came out of my mouth with the bubbles when my body sank to the bottom of the great water.” “Why were you in the great water?” “It is the rule for a female when she does not make a child» — cómo cuenta ella su propia muerte y por qué murió, y las dos cosas se fichan como su testimonio: salió por la boca con las burbujas cuando el cuerpo se hundió, y estaba en el agua porque ésa es la regla para una hembra que no hace hijo.

«When we jump off this hill into the valley, we must fall onto the rocks below and die, again and again. That is the rule of Megus» — en qué consiste la vida de ese lugar según ella: saltar del cerro al valle y morir en las rocas de abajo, una y otra vez, porque ésa es la regla de Megus.

«Megus is Sky God. He came to us many suns past and told us of his Sky Land. This is what he promised … but something is wrong» — quién es Megus, en voz de ella: un dios del cielo que llegó muchos soles atrás y les habló de su Tierra del Cielo, que es lo prometido.

«When I jump off the hill, I don’t fall and I don’t die. The others do, but I don’t. I just float.” I lifted up slowly until I was just above her head. “Like this?” “Yes! Yes! You are Megus, you are! Help me keep your rule! Help me fall so I can die and live again» — cuál es el problema que ella pide resolver, y es el reverso de lo que un lector esperaría: no puede caer ni morir como los demás, solo flota, y le pide ayuda para cumplir la regla.

«I am not Megus, but I can help. It can be good to float. This is a» — cómo responde Monroe, negando la identificación y sin discutirle la regla: no es Megus, pero puede ayudar, y flotar puede estar bien; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«new rule. Come, try it!” She grasped my hand with both of hers and we lifted slowly up and out. The structure of the belief systems began to fade rapidly as we approached the Interstate, and was gone completely when we went up the entry ramp. I moved us more out-of-phase when the change was indicated, observing and reassuring my Neanderthal friend. She was calm, relaxed but expectant. I was pondering why I seemed to be so compulsive in my rescue pattern when the expected unexpected happened again. She dissolved, faded into nothing as I watched» — y con qué la mueve, que es cambiarle la regla y no quitársela; el traslado acaba igual que los anteriores, con ella disolviéndose ante su vista. La frase empieza en la plana anterior.

«This time I accepted the phenomenon without question, but I wondered why I had received her signal among all the others. Alone, I moved slowly past other exit ramps that were dimly familiar. I knew that at some point in distant time I had visited and turned off each of these ramps and was a part of each of the belief systems they led to. But there seemed no reason to go through again what I had already experienced and presumably outgrown» — cómo deja el asunto, con dos cautelas puestas: acepta el fenómeno sin preguntar, y de las rampas de salida que reconoce dice que en algún tiempo distante formó parte de cada uno de esos sistemas de creencias y presumiblemente los superó.

«Although I felt I needed help, I did not consult any of my philosophic or psychiatric physical friends. Instead, several weeks later, I did what they would have prescribed» — a quién no acude y qué hace en su lugar, y es de las líneas que mejor muestran su relación con el aparato profesional: no consulta a sus amigos filósofos ni psiquiatras, y hace lo que ellos le habrían recetado.

«But it was not as easy as that. Somewhere deep in the Belief System Territories a strong and demanding signal hit me. I resisted, but to my great surprise a part of me overrode my resistance» — lo que interrumpe ese plan, y el dato que importa para el capítulo siguiente: se resistió a la señal y una parte de él anuló su resistencia, para su gran sorpresa.

«I pulled myself up to a sitting position and stood up. I was in a physical body, it seemed, or a good facsimile of one. It felt quite normal» — en qué se encuentra al estabilizarse, con la reserva puesta en la propia frase: en un cuerpo físico, o en un buen facsímil, que se sentía del todo normal.

«A hand touched my arm and I turned. A woman stood by me, beautiful, ageless, very familiar. Her face and eyes were radiant with joy. “I’ve been waiting for you. I knew you would be here if all of us met together as one» — quién lo recibe del otro lado de la puerta: una mujer bella, sin edad, muy familiar, que dice haberlo estado esperando y saber que estaría ahí si todos se reunían como uno.

«On the edge of the range of the light were faces looking up at me, many hundreds, as far back as I could perceive. They were expectant. The radiation I know as love was overwhelming» — lo que ve al pasar a la luz: cientos de rostros expectantes hasta donde alcanza a percibir, y la radiación que reconoce como amor.

«I stood still, altogether unsure of the situation, of what was expected of me. Then, as I stood there, another part of me took control and I relaxed. That other part began to speak» — la marca de voz que hay que leer antes del discurso que sigue: Monroe declara no saber qué se esperaba de él, y que otra parte suya tomó el control y habló.

«I had no idea there are so many of us. This is one of the few points where we have gathered as one. As all of us have discovered, it took a belief system to get us here—and therefore we are somewhere on the outer edge of the Belief System Territories. Thus we have several Knowns. That we are, and can be, here. That we do not need a physical body to exist and be. This alone has freed us from the constraints and restrictions that all of us encountered in our sojourns on Earth. Even though each of us has a few beliefs left, we can release them at will» — qué sostiene esa otra voz sobre el sitio y sobre los reunidos, con el vocabulario del libro: hizo falta un sistema de creencias para llegar ahí, de modo que están en el borde exterior de los *Belief System Territories*, y de ahí salen dos *Knowns*, que están y pueden estar ahí, y que no hace falta cuerpo físico para ser.

«Now we are awakening from the dream. “The important Known is the one that brought us together. That not only were we more than our physical bodies, but we can be free of any and all Earth-life-generated beliefs, without exception. This freedom is the exciting part because we now have no limits. This Known, without fear, gives us a full range of choice» — el *Known* que la voz declara principal: no solo eran más que sus cuerpos, sino que pueden liberarse de toda creencia generada por la vida terrestre, sin excepción, y esa libertad sin miedo da el rango completo de elección.

«My role is another Known. It is not that of leader. Leadership is not necessary in the old sense of the term. Perhaps my part has been, and still is, as a recruiter. But to me the role of scout, information gatherer, trailblazer, seems to fit much better» — cómo define esa voz su propio papel, rechazando el término que se esperaría: no líder, porque el liderazgo ya no hace falta en el sentido viejo; a lo sumo reclutador, y mejor explorador, recolector de información y abridor de camino.

«Now it seems we are finally at the point of fruition. When we meet again, the move into various options will begin. “The love we share is the greatest Known of all» — cómo cierra el discurso, y es la jerarquía que el libro sostiene entre sus términos: el amor compartido es el mayor *Known* de todos.

«Somewhere from deep in the multitude an arm reached up and a hand grasped mine. A man moved up and joined me. Side by side we rose in a slow spiral, higher and higher. I looked over to see a big grin as he winked at me. Was it Agnew? Lew? Rodius? Cheng» — quién se le suma al elevarse sobre la multitud, y los cuatro nombres que Monroe descarta al preguntárselo: Agnew, Lew, Rodius, Cheng.

«It was none of these. It was my old friend from my early days of OB exploration—the friend whom I knew as BB» — y de quién se trataba, un personaje que viene del segundo volumen: el viejo amigo de sus primeros días de exploración fuera del cuerpo, al que llama BB. La frase empieza del otro lado del corte de bloque, en esta misma plana.

«I should have known; I should have remembered. BB, who followed me from Home, from the cruise an eternity past … It could have been no other» — el reproche que se hace por no haberlo reconocido y la procedencia que le atribuye a BB: lo siguió desde *Home*, desde el crucero de una eternidad atrás.

«The phasing was complete and the eager faces disappeared. With them went the feel of BB’s hand in mine. I looked and he was gone. The return to the physical was without incident» — cómo termina el capítulo, y el contraste que él mismo deja sin comentar: con el cambio de fase completo desaparecen los rostros y con ellos la mano de BB, mientras el regreso al cuerpo no tiene incidente ninguno.

«If an impasse is reached, it seems likely that somewhere on the way a distortion or misconception has taken place. A sign along the road was missed or misunderstood, the wrong turn was taken—there are many possibilities. Perhaps some small detail was left unnoticed» — la regla de método con que abre el capítulo, y que aplica a sí mismo: si se llega a un atolladero, en algún punto del camino hubo una distorsión o un letrero mal leído.

«I felt that I had lost control. Some part of me that I wasn’t aware of had taken over, and I certainly didn’t understand it» — el diagnóstico que se hace, y es el que le da la vuelta al libro: había perdido el control, una parte de él que no conocía había tomado el mando, y no la entendía.

«I decided that the far reaches of infinity would have to wait. The prime need was to know myself without equivocation. The more I came to know myself, the more I would know what I am in nonphysical expression, and the closer I would come to the reason for the path I seemed to be taking» — el cambio de programa que decide en consecuencia: los confines del infinito esperan, y lo urgente es conocerse a sí mismo sin equívoco.

«The route or access to the nonphysical I, what I now thought of as the I-There, surfaced almost immediately. It had started over twenty years ago. Frustrated over my seeming lack of any ability to explore more than just the time-space continuum, I had turned inward and asked for help. From that moment, an entirely new spectrum of being and doing emerged. I was free» — cuándo empezó el acceso a lo que ahora llama el *I-There*, según su propio recuento: hace más de veinte años, frustrado por no poder explorar más que el continuo tiempo-espacio, se volvió hacia dentro y pidió ayuda.

«not realized that, in spite of my apparent ego, the I-There of me had been doing the driving and navigating since that point. Never once had I taken the trouble to look under the hood, as normal curiosity should have led me to do» — lo que dice no haber advertido en todos esos años, con la imagen automovilística que usa: el *I-There* venía manejando y navegando desde entonces, y él nunca se tomó la molestia de mirar bajo el cofre. La frase empieza en la plana anterior.

«Now, in pursuit of the missing Basic, instead of following the usual steps after phasing into out-of-body I put a hold on all of the urgent signals and began a probe around me, inward instead of out. Many such sessions spaced over a year were involved to get the information into workable form» — cómo procedió y cuánto le llevó, que es dato de método y no de doctrina: puso en espera todas las señales urgentes y sondeó hacia dentro, en muchas sesiones repartidas a lo largo de un año.

«The move out of physical phase and into my I-There was slow and careful. I formed the impression of an all-powerful, all-knowing giant who watched bemused as one of his fingers began an independent, self-willed exploration of the rest of his body. I felt no fear because of the Known: I was I-There, I-There was I. Can one be afraid of oneself» — con qué imagen describe la entrada y por qué dice no haber sentido miedo: un gigante omnisciente que mira divertido cómo uno de sus dedos explora por su cuenta el resto del cuerpo, y él era el *I-There* y el *I-There* era él.

«Turning inward and penetrating the I-There of me, I immediately encountered the expected: a layer—or file, library, or mainframe— containing every moment of my life to date, with more pouring in that matched exactly my thoughts and actions as I conducted the investigation. Other signals were still coming in from my physical body. This was far more than memory, as we consciously think of it» — la primera capa que encuentra y con qué la compara: un archivo, biblioteca o computadora central con cada instante de su vida, alimentándose en tiempo real con lo que él pensaba y hacía durante la propia investigación.

«This was the reception point of the uplink from the present I-Here— the I that functions in the physical world—now only an operating physical body without consciousness» — el segundo término del par, que este volumen introduce junto al primero: el *I-Here*, el yo que funciona en el mundo físico, que durante la sesión queda como un cuerpo en operación sin conciencia.

«I tested the storage system several times with great fascination. Upon selection of a given point in the past, I relived the event in every detail, down to each minute sensory input, thought, and emotion. I soon realized such supermemory was not altogether pleasurable. With such intense hindsight, one becomes all too painfully and sadly aware of the many irrational decisions made, the stupid mistakes, the missed opportunities. The exciting incidents were no longer exciting because I knew the outcome. The joyous» — qué encontró al probar ese archivo, y no lo idealiza: revivir un punto del pasado en cada detalle sensorial vuelve dolorosamente presentes las decisiones irracionales, los errores estúpidos y las oportunidades perdidas, y lo emocionante deja de serlo porque se conoce el desenlace.

«As an example, I had a very young memory of hiding under a big bush just outside my grandmother’s front porch. Afterward, I could never understand why I had been hiding there. I wasn’t afraid, but something kept me there. Now I knew. I had feces in my pants, and I didn’t want Mommie to find out» — el ejemplo con que la ilustra, elegido por trivial: el escondite bajo un arbusto de la casa de su abuela, cuyo motivo nunca entendió, se explicaba porque se había hecho en los pantalones.

«One such occurred in 1934, when I flunked out of Ohio State University in my sophomore year with a less than 2.5 grade average. This was partly due to a severe facial burn which meant spending some time in the hospital. After I recovered, feeling restless, I hit the road looking for work. I began hitchhiking, but after about a week I discovered that people wouldn’t pick up a dirty-looking kid so I became a hobo riding freight trains from place to place» — el episodio biográfico que sigue, contado sin adorno: reprobado en Ohio State en segundo año, tras una quemadura grave en la cara salió a la carretera y acabó de vagabundo en trenes de carga porque nadie levantaba a un muchacho sucio.

«In St. Louis during mid-December the cook in a small hash joint saw me staring through the steamy window at the food frying on the grill. He waved me in and fed me without charge. As I hadn’t eaten for two days, it seemed a miracle. Then, later that night, in a Salvation Army-type flophouse, an old man died quietly on the cot next to mine. I had never been that close to someone dying. I felt no fear, but curiosity» — los dos hechos de esa temporada que retiene, y la reacción que consigna ante el segundo: un cocinero de San Luis que le dio de comer gratis tras dos días sin probar bocado, y esa misma noche un viejo que murió en el catre de al lado en un asilo de indigentes.

«After nearly a year, I returned to Ohio State in Columbus, pleaded and was granted conditional reinstatement. During my junior year, Strollers, the campus dramatic society, offered a prize for the best original one-act play. The one I wrote received second prize. The first three were produced and presented to a campus audience» — cómo siguió aquello: readmitido bajo condición, escribió una obra en un acto que ganó el segundo premio del concurso de la sociedad dramática del campus y se representó ante el público.

«The play was based on exactly what happened in the flophouse, except for the addition of the climactic moment. What was it? In dying, the old man passed to the boy a Special Purpose, a Goal, a» — qué le añadió a lo ocurrido para escribir la obra, y es el hallazgo que le devuelve la capa de memoria: en el desenlace inventado, el viejo al morir le pasa al muchacho un Propósito Especial y una Meta; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«Plan far beyond ordinary human thought. The boy was transformed into something or someone else» — y cómo cierra esa frase del otro lado del salto: un Plan muy por encima del pensamiento humano ordinario, con el muchacho transformado en algo o alguien más.

«This came from an eighteen-year-old who had never taken a course in philosophy, and was not religious—as were none of his friends at the time. So where did he get the idea, and why? This incident had evidently been long hidden as not important. It took place at least twenty years before there was any such occurrence as an OBE in my life» — y la pregunta que deja abierta sobre ese invento, sin contestarla: de dónde sacó la idea un muchacho de dieciocho años sin filosofía ni religión, veinte años antes de su primera salida del cuerpo.

«Likewise relegated into the same category of non-importance was another long-hidden memory that perhaps I had earlier regarded as some sort of hallucination. The location of this was an old farmhouse we owned in Dutchess County, New York, during the late forties. The well had run dry. It was not the new type of drilled well, but one that had been hand-dug a hundred years ago or more. It was about three feet wide, seventy feet deep, and lined with rounded fieldstones wedged together without mortar» — el segundo recuerdo que dice haber archivado como irrelevante, y que quizá había leído como alucinación: un pozo cavado a mano un siglo antes en una granja del condado de Dutchess, de casi un metro de ancho y veinte de hondo, forrado de piedra sin mortero.

«Listening, one could hear water running far below, but the pump couldn’t bring it up through the pipe. Usually one doesn’t hear running water in a well. My curiosity was caught, so I got a rope out of the barn, tied it to a nearby tree, and skittered down inside the well like a mountain climber rappelling down a cliff» — por qué bajó, y el motivo que declara es el mismo de todo el libro: se oía correr agua abajo, cosa que no suele pasar en un pozo, y la curiosidad lo hizo descolgarse con una cuerda.

«When I reached the bottom, I immediately found the problem. The water table had lowered and the end of the pipe was above the new water level. The interesting part was that there at the bottom was not still water but a running underground stream. If a few rocks were put in the right place the water level would rise again» — qué encontró abajo, que es la explicación práctica del asunto: el manto había bajado y el tubo quedaba por encima del nivel, con una corriente subterránea corriendo al fondo.

«Then I looked up and panic set in. Far, far above me was a tiny circle of light. Between me and that point of safety were seventy feet of loose rock, any chunk of which I might have disturbed in climbing down. At any moment that chunk could drop away and trigger the entire wall to collapse on top of me. There was evidence of the possibility on the rocky bottom on which I stood. Several large, basketball-size rocks lay there, having fallen from the wall sometime previous» — y qué pasó al mirar arriba, con la evidencia que sostenía el miedo: veinte metros de roca suelta que podían venirse encima, y en el fondo varias piedras del tamaño de un balón ya caídas.

«justification. If I could not get out quickly, I might well be buried in a seventy-foot grave—and no one would know. With an effort, I sought to control my panic» — cómo nombra lo que sintió, y le concede la razón al miedo antes de calmarlo: podía quedar enterrado en una tumba de veinte metros sin que nadie lo supiera. La frase empieza en la plana anterior, donde llama claustrofobia intensa a lo que le pasa.

«As I sat at the bottom of the well, listening to the gentle tumbling of the water, my eyes adapting to the dim light, I began to relax. There was something very calm and serene and comfortable about being where I was. I even looked up at the circle of light far above me and the sense of peace was not disturbed. I felt no more panic. I closed my eyes and leaned comfortably back against the rocky wall of the well. There was no need to hurry now. I relaxed even more, and for a moment I thought I was asleep, but I could hear the water and feel the stone against my back. My physical awareness was still complete» — el cambio que describe al sentarse a pensarlo, y la salvedad que él mismo introduce para que no se lea como sueño: llegó calma y serenidad, y su conciencia física seguía completa.

«Then the pattern changed. Slowly, the feeling of a warm intelligence seemed to surround me, flowing very gently into my body. It seemed to blend into every part of me, body and mind. I became a part of that intelligence, or the intelligence became a part of me. There didn’t seem to be any difference» — cómo describe lo que sigue, y la indistinción es suya: una inteligencia cálida lo rodea y se le mezcla en cuerpo y mente, sin que pueda decir si él pasó a ser parte de ella o ella de él.

«And there was a message. I could translate it into words only crudely» — la marca con que introduce lo que sigue, y es el estatuto textual del mensaje: una traducción a palabras que él mismo califica de tosca.

«My son of sons of sons, you have found joy in my winds and sky. We have shared the excitement and peace both on my waters and deep within them. You have reveled in the beauty and ingenuity of my other children spread across my surface. Yet it is only now that you have taken a moment in my bosom to be still and listen. In that stillness, hold this song forevermore» — la primera parte del mensaje, en la voz que Monroe transcribe: le reprocha suavemente que solo ahora se haya detenido a escuchar, tras haber gozado de sus vientos, su cielo, sus aguas y sus otras criaturas.

«You were born of me, yet it is your destiny to become more than I can ever be. In this growth, I revel with you. My strength is your strength; thus you take with you the glory of me to express in ways that I will not understand. Not understanding, I nonetheless support and share happily that which you become. Go with this truth within you, my son of sons of sons» — y la segunda parte, que es la que da vuelta a la jerarquía esperable: nació de ella y su destino es llegar a ser más de lo que ella podrá ser nunca, y ella sostiene y comparte con gusto eso que él llegue a ser aunque no lo entienda.

«I stood up, took the dangling rope, and climbed effortlessly to the top of the well, scrambling out into the sunlight. I was astounded when I discovered I had been in the well for over two hours» — el único dato externo que aporta del episodio: había estado más de dos horas en el pozo, cosa que lo dejó atónito.

«Now I remember that special Basic. Mother Earth, I love you! How could I have forgotten» — cómo identifica lo que el pozo le devuelve, y aquí el término del libro queda adjudicado por primera vez: ese *Basic* especial es la Madre Tierra, que había olvidado.

«I was at that time an active airplane and glider pilot, and in this dream I would find myself turning my aircraft onto the end of the runway, applying power, and beginning the takeoff run. As soon as I was airborne, the runway turned into a street with buildings lining it on both sides. Crossing from one side to the other overhead was a network of cables and wires, much like those still found in older downtown business areas. Try as I might, I couldn’t find a hole or gap in the network through which the aircraft could fly. After a period of anxiety and frustration, I would wake up» — el sueño recurrente que dice haber encontrado en la capa de memoria, y que se le repetía al menos una vez al mes: despegaba y la pista se volvía una calle con edificios, cruzada por una red de cables sin hueco por donde pasar.

«dream did not recur once my OBEs began. Some psychologists with whom I discussed this dream suggested that the downtown street setting was a symbol of my commitment to the business world. Others speculated that the network of restrictive wires represented my cultural belief systems. All agreed that it was a well-assembled logical metaphor tailored neatly to meet what I was at the time» — cuándo dejó de repetirse ese sueño y qué le dijeron de él, y las lecturas son de otros, no suyas: unos psicólogos vieron en la calle céntrica un símbolo de su compromiso con el mundo de los negocios y en los cables sus sistemas de creencias culturales. La frase empieza del otro lado del corte de bloque, en esta misma plana.

«Searching again, I found a clue as to what might have been the evoking mechanism or trigger for what happened afterward. My company, seeking a new area for diversification, was investigating whether sound might be used for learning during sleep. As professionals in sound, having produced several hundred network radio programs, we tried a number of different audio patterns with various subjects to study the effect of these patterns upon sleep» — qué propone como posible disparador de todo lo demás, dicho en condicional: los ensayos de su empresa sobre aprendizaje durante el sueño mediante patrones de audio, que hacían como profesionales del sonido tras cientos de programas de radio.

«Beginning in 1956, I had been the chief subject in this testing and underwent at least a hundred sessions lying in a darkened booth and listening through headphones. But my two children, and many others, had also spent many such sessions, yet with no comparable effect. Was this my OBE trigger» — y por qué él mismo no cierra esa hipótesis, que es la parte más honesta del pasaje: fue sujeto principal en al menos un centenar de sesiones desde 1956, pero sus dos hijos y muchos otros pasaron por lo mismo sin efecto comparable.

«Moving inward to the next section of my I-There, I found an area I had definitely not expected. I discovered that I was indeed far from fearless. I may not have been consciously aware of these fears, but there they were, large, ugly blasts of raw energy, embarrassing to me, and to no one else, in their intensity» — la segunda capa del *I-There* y lo que le devuelve de sí mismo: estaba lejos de ser intrépido, y ahí había miedos de los que no era consciente, en descargas de energía cruda que lo avergonzaban ante nadie más que él.

«There were old fears and a constant inflow of new ones. They ranged from little items, such as anxiety over the effect of a rainy day on our construction project, to big worries about the world changes developing. Even the fear of physical death was there; not of the process and what lay beyond, but of what might be left undone here in time-space» — el inventario de esos miedos, del más chico al más grande, y la precisión sobre el último: el miedo a la muerte física no era al proceso ni a lo que viene después, sino a lo que quedara sin hacer aquí.

«The I-There of me already had a better system at work. The tests I had been undergoing during the past five years, where I nonphysically experienced an intense event that engendered a familiar fear time and time again until the fear dissipated, were still in place and operating. Moreover, the battle was almost won. Many more fears were being dissolved than the number of new ones which were being generated by my current activity» — con qué dice que ya se estaban disolviendo esos miedos: las pruebas de los últimos cinco años, en que vivía no físicamente un episodio intenso que evocaba un miedo familiar una y otra vez hasta que el miedo se disipaba.

«With this awareness came a major revelation: I-There had instituted this process and kept the fear-dissolving operation flowing as needed. No outside source was providing any assistance, as I had wrongly assumed. I was helping myself» — y la revelación que saca de ahí, que corrige de raíz lo que suponía: fue el *I-There* quien instituyó y sostuvo esa operación, sin fuente externa ninguna, contra lo que él había dado por hecho.

«Thus the finger became a hand. I preferred the feel of the hand» — cómo remata esa parte, retomando su propia imagen del gigante y el dedo: el dedo se volvió mano, y prefiere la mano.

«How this was taking place aroused my curiosity. Recognizing that I-There provided me (I-Here) with more than a casual connection, I began to search in my present mind-self for other evidence of ongoing participation by my I-There. It was very easy to move deeper, but initially the effect was near-disastrous. I learned what I am! And much adjustment was required to become used to the reality of» — lo que le costó ir más hondo, y no lo presenta como logro: bajar fue muy fácil y el efecto inicial fue casi desastroso, porque aprendió qué es, y tuvo que ajustarse mucho para acostumbrarse a esa realidad.

«This was the next inward cloud of energy that I met. I knew all of these emotions, not those that had been repressed, but those past and present that I had lived and treasured, both joyous and sad, and the irrational angers that were now so amusing to me. As with the fears, there was a constant incoming pattern, mimicking what I felt at each moment. The interesting part was that this layer seemed so neatly organized» — la tercera capa, la emocional, y lo que la distingue de la del miedo: no son emociones reprimidas sino las vividas y atesoradas, gozosas y tristes, con las iras irracionales que ahora le hacen gracia, y todo ello pulcramente organizado.

«This was much like a ragged hole in a gray wall. As I attempted to go through this enticing gap, there was a slight resistance and then I was through. As I penetrated the gap, the texture of the original restraining energy of the wall was absolutely clear to me» — la cuarta pieza, que llama la barrera rota: un agujero irregular en un muro gris que atraviesa con leve resistencia.

«I also understood what had happened in my own pattern, what had made that hole. The answer was simple erosion through repeated experience. The amusing part was that in my eagerness I had never paused to notice the very real existence of the barrier» — cómo se hizo ese agujero según él, y el reconocimiento que le pega: simple erosión por experiencia repetida, sin que en su prisa se hubiera detenido nunca a notar que la barrera existía.

«What was the barrier made of? Earth Life System addiction and the multitude of belief systems generated therein. Evidently I had once slipped through a crack, either by accident or otherwise, and kept widening the opening by usage—probably through gathering information and increasing experience—until that part of the barrier crumbled» — de qué está hecha esa barrera, en su vocabulario: adicción al sistema de vida terrestre y los sistemas de creencias que genera, por cuya grieta se coló y que fue ensanchando con el uso.

«So … What am I? Beyond the barrier there were hundreds and hundreds of what appeared to be waving beams of multicolored light. Uncertainly, I reached out and touched the nearest one. A rich male voice rang in my mind. Well, well! Curiosity pays off again, Robert» — qué encuentra del otro lado de la barrera y qué pasa al tocarlo: cientos y cientos de haces ondulantes de luz multicolor, y del primero sale una voz masculina que lo llama por su nombre.

«Immediately another brightly glowing beam, mauve in color, came close. This voice was female! Of course! You’re not all male, Bobby» — y qué le dice el segundo haz, que es lo que corrige de entrada la lectura del asunto: la voz es femenina, y le advierte que no es todo masculino.

«That was only the beginning. The process was repeated again and again. Each time it became easier. Now I realized that every beam of “light” was one of me, one of my I-There personalities complete with a different life experience. Lodged within my I-There was a corresponding life pattern of each personality in great detail. This, I realize, is an inadequate description, because each is a conscious, sentient being with an individual awareness, mind, and memory. Communication was easy because I was holding forth with myself» — qué concluye de esa serie, y es la definición operativa del *I-There* en este volumen: cada haz de luz es uno de él, una personalidad con su propia experiencia de vida, y cada una es un ser consciente y sintiente con conciencia, mente y memoria propias.

«However, there was so much that I could only skim the surface. The emotional elements were too strong to go deeper» — el límite que declara sobre todo lo que sigue, y conviene leerlo antes del catálogo: solo pudo rozar la superficie, porque los elementos emocionales eran demasiado fuertes.

«When I phased over into the I-There of me, finding each one required merely the thought of that pattern in my present life activity. Some of them were familiar, as I knew of them as driving forces in my present life experience. Here are the most salient» — cómo se accede a cada una, según él, y de qué criterio sale la lista que viene: basta pensar el patrón que esa personalidad tiene en su vida presente, y algunas ya le eran familiares como fuerzas motrices de esta vida.

«This was in the era of cathedral and castle building during the twelfth century in England and the continent of Europe. I was dismissed in disgrace when I objected to the appalling cost in lives of worker-friends when huge stones fell from crude scaffolds and crushed those on the ground beneath. I refused to comply with the irrational whims of those in power. I emigrated to France, where the same sequence took place but with a different ending. Someone in angry authority had me beheaded» — la primera del catálogo, el Arquitecto/Constructor: siglo doce en Inglaterra y el continente, despedido en desgracia por objetar el costo en vidas de los andamios que se venían abajo, y decapitado en Francia por la misma negativa.

«This part of me was reflected early in life, before I was ten, in the building of wooden shacks two and three stories high. Later came the design and construction of theatrical stage sets, and then the design, engineering, and construction supervision of various buildings in Westchester County, New York, and then in Virginia, which gave me such deep satisfaction» — cómo dice que esa faceta se le refleja en esta vida: casuchas de madera de dos y tres pisos antes de los diez años, después escenografías teatrales y luego el diseño y la supervisión de obra de varios edificios en Westchester y en Virginia.

«This also explained the deep sadness, amounting to physical illness, during a recent trip to England and France when we visited various» — y qué más le explica esa faceta: una tristeza profunda, que llegó a enfermedad física, en un viaje reciente por Inglaterra y Francia; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«cathedrals and other ancient buildings. The effect was so marked that we cut short our stay in both London and Paris. In my I-There the details were completely available, but the emotion was much too great for me to go very deep» — qué la provocaba y hasta dónde llegó, con el límite otra vez declarado: catedrales y edificios antiguos, con el efecto tan marcado que acortaron la estancia en Londres y en París, y con los detalles disponibles en el *I-There* pero la emoción demasiado grande para bajar.

«I tried to learn what my name was at that point, but received only an amused, repeated response. “You were you! You» — la única respuesta que obtiene al preguntar por su nombre de entonces, y se ficha como abstención divertida: que él era él.

«For a time I could make no sense of this, but an interesting verification came in 1990. During a summer vacation in Europe, my younger brother Emmett and his wife went to Scotland to visit what is known as the Munro Fields just north of Inverness. They took photographs of Foulis Castle there, returning home without comment to me about the trip as they didn’t think I would be interested» — de dónde sale lo que él llama una verificación: su hermano menor Emmett y la esposa fueron en 1990 a los Munro Fields al norte de Inverness y fotografiaron el castillo de Foulis, sin comentárselo por creer que no le interesaría.

«In November, Emmett received a notice from our Institute regarding activities for the coming year. In it was a photograph of the tower in the new East Wing of the Center. Astonished at what he saw, he made copies of his Munro Fields pictures and sent them to us. In his Scotland pictures, the distinctive feature of Foulis Castle is a tower that matches ours beyond coincidence. Both have four stories, are octagonal and embedded into the side of the main building, have the same general dimensions, the same roof pitch, and both even have similar iron fencing at the top, tied into the building roof, although this is not visible in these photographs» — y en qué consiste la coincidencia que el hermano detecta al ver la torre del ala este del instituto: cuatro pisos, planta octagonal, encajada en el costado del edificio principal, con las mismas dimensiones generales, la misma pendiente de techo y una reja de hierro semejante arriba.

«I didn’t know of the existence of Foulis Castle and its tower, nor had I ever been to Scotland. My brother had never seen or known of the Institute tower because it had been built since his last visit to Virginia» — los dos descartes con que Monroe cierra la coincidencia: él no conocía el castillo de Foulis ni había estado en Escocia, y su hermano no había visto la torre del instituto porque se construyó después de su última visita.

«Who built the Foulis Tower? According to Munro clan history, Donald Munro and his son Robert, in the mid-twelfth century. So there was some hard data. I was I after all» — a quién atribuye la torre escocesa, con la fuente citada, y qué concluye de ello: la historia del clan Munro se la adjudica a Donald Munro y su hijo Robert a mediados del siglo doce, de modo que había datos duros.

«Note that both towers are octagonal, with similar roof pitch, both are halfway in the wall of the building, both have similar dimensions, and are four stories high with access to the roof and wrought iron fencing at that point. Foulis Castle Tower Munro Fields Near Inverness, Scotland Constructed 1151 A.D. by Robert Munro & father» — el pie de la lámina que el volumen intercala en este punto, y que titula torre reencarnada; consigna la torre del castillo de Foulis en los Munro Fields cerca de Inverness, construida en 1151 por Robert Munro y su padre.

«The Monroe Institute Central Tower Nelson County, Va., U.S.A. Constructed 1989 A.D. by Robert Monroe & friends» — y la otra mitad del mismo pie: la torre central del instituto en el condado de Nelson, Virginia, construida en 1989 por Robert Monroe y sus amigos. El paralelismo de la redacción lo pone la propia lámina.

«This I-Then was an initiate, at some indeterminate time, about to participate in a secret confirmation ritual in the deep recesses of an old stone temple or church. He—or rather I—had eagerly looked forward to this moment without knowing the procedure as it meant wide acceptance and advancement within the culture» — la segunda del catálogo, el Sacerdote rebelde, y el término con que Monroe nombra a estas facetas cuando cuenta sus vidas: un *I-Then*, iniciado en tiempo indeterminado, a punto de un rito de confirmación secreto en un templo de piedra.

«The ritual began with the priests forming a circle around a flat stone altar, chanting in droning tones. A frightened young girl was brought in, stripped of her clothing, and tied spread-eagled on top of the altar. Although shocked, I-Then could not help becoming sexually aroused» — cómo describe el rito, sin ahorrarse lo que le pasó a él mismo dentro: los sacerdotes en círculo salmodiando alrededor de un altar de piedra plana, una muchacha asustada traída, desnudada y atada en cruz encima.

«The high priest motioned I-Then to move in and possess the girl. I stepped dutifully forward, stood beside the girl, and staring down at her fear-stricken face was caught by something in the depth of her eyes. After a long moment, I turned away, looked at the high priest, and shook my head in refusal. Immediately there was a bright flash of white light and the life of this I-Then ended» — qué hizo ahí ese *I-Then*, y qué lo detuvo: algo en el fondo de los ojos de la muchacha, tras lo cual negó con la cabeza ante el sumo sacerdote y sobrevino un destello blanco que acabó con esa vida.

«In my present lifetime, this fits neatly into my repugnance for any» — cómo lee esa escena en su vida presente: le explica su repugnancia hacia todo hombre que fuerce el acto sexual; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«willing female. I had always presumed from previous intimations that this particular I-Then was executed for refusing to follow orders. But the I-There inventory had a different approach. The “temptation” was a test. If I-Then had tried to rape the girl, he would have been stopped and thrown out of the priesthood. But in refusing he passed the test and was welcomed into the elect. The bright light was a symbol of his conversion into a new life» — y la corrección que el inventario del *I-There* le hace a su propia lectura anterior: no fue ejecutado por desobedecer, la tentación era una prueba, y al negarse pasó y fue admitido entre los electos, con el destello por símbolo de conversión.

«Who was the girl? My wife, Nancy. Prior to this disclosure, she had remembered a past where, as members of a religious sect, she had been a nun and I a priest where all we had was intense eye contact» — quién era la muchacha según él, y el recuerdo previo de ella que no coincide del todo: su esposa Nancy, que se recordaba monja y a él sacerdote en una vida anterior donde no hubo más que contacto visual intenso.

«The time, location, and species are unknown. This I-Then was a member of a very close-knit family or tribe numbering several thousand whose base of operations or home was in the side of a huge cliff. There was a landing/takeoff pad just inside a large cavelike entrance, and small one-person aircraft were the only means of transportation. The aircraft had short wings and were powered by means not translatable. The pilot lay in a prone position, with head slightly raised, forehead resting on a swiveling pad. Control was effected through a learned mental process» — la tercera del catálogo, el Piloto de aeronave, con lo desconocido declarado de entrada: sin tiempo, lugar ni especie; una tribu de varios miles en el costado de un acantilado, aeronaves de un solo tripulante con alas cortas, propulsión no traducible, piloto tendido boca abajo y control por un proceso mental aprendido.

«There was a deep sense of friendship and love in the memory of that home in the cliff. There were also moments of much amusement when on these missions rocks and spears from “natives” below struck the underside of the aircraft with the shock resonating up into the I-Then body. The aircraft was near-indestructible» — qué retiene de esa vida, mezclando el afecto con la anécdota: amistad y amor en el recuerdo del hogar en el acantilado, y la diversión de las piedras y lanzas que los de abajo estrellaban contra el fondo de la nave.

«Years ago, when I was a teenager in this present lifetime, I attempted to build such a prone-position aircraft. During World War II, I tried without success to sell a prone-pilot fighter design to the aircraft industry as an answer to G-loading and other performance problems. This was before I had the slightest interest in or awareness of the extent of what I now know I am, and I gave no thought then as to the source of the idea» — cómo dice que esa faceta se le refleja en esta vida, con un dato verificable y su propia ceguera de entonces: de adolescente intentó construir una aeronave de piloto tendido, y durante la Segunda Guerra trató sin éxito de venderle a la industria un caza de piloto en posición prona contra los problemas de carga g.

«I had assumed this facet of me to have sprung from the energy system that was my origin, which I had loosely labeled KT-95. My most recent visit there—to Home—neither confirmed nor denied that assumption» — la cuarta del catálogo, el Vibracionista, y la abstención con que la presenta: suponía que venía del sistema de energía de su origen, al que llama KT-95, y su última visita a *Home* no confirmó ni desmintió ese supuesto.

«The I-There inventory unveiled a personality about which I had perceived only vague shadows. Both time and location were indeterminate, and the species was probably nonhuman» — con qué cautelas la describe: solo había percibido sombras vagas de ella, el tiempo y el lugar son indeterminados y la especie, probablemente no humana.

«Then is a major but evidently frustrated part of me which is constantly attempting to replicate what was commonplace during that particular life activity. I have usually tried to express this in music. The present culture-civilization lacks the knowledge and the tools to do so in another form» — cómo dice que esa faceta se le manifiesta hoy, y por qué en música: es una parte importante y frustrada que intenta sin parar replicar lo que allá era corriente, y esta civilización no tiene el saber ni las herramientas para hacerlo de otro modo.

«In that life, full and complete working application of vibration in any form is as natural as breathing is to us. It is a part of their DNA package. They have and use the ability to manipulate matter to suit whatever need through mental vibrational energy» — qué era corriente allá, según él: la aplicación plena de la vibración es tan natural como respirar y va en el paquete de ADN, con capacidad de manipular la materia mediante energía vibratoria mental.

«The “music” they create is the utilization of nonphysical energy, but not the electromagnetic field. Not only does it induce moods and emotions of every sort, but it instills or inhibits a variety of sensory patterns somewhat resembling our physical input, yet not nearly so limited» — y qué era la música en esa vida, definida por lo que no es: energía no física que no pertenece al campo electromagnético, y que además de inducir estados de ánimo instila o inhibe patrones sensoriales.

«Most of this I-Then is beyond my I-Here comprehension. I now simply recognize the presence of such a personality and let this self do and express what is possible and feasible. My major curiosity is how the I-There of me ever got involved in such an unusual lifestyle. The inventory does not reveal this—or at least I could not find the answer» — lo que reconoce no entender ni haber podido averiguar, y se ficha como abstención doble: casi toda esa faceta excede la comprensión de su *I-Here*, y el inventario no dice cómo el *I-There* acabó metido en semejante modo de vida.

«This vivid memory was that of a first mate on sailing ships in the era of square-riggers. Only the more unusual events are clear to I-Here. One in particular was passage through a narrow strait, possibly Magellan, close-hauled during a very severe storm. We spent many hours stationary relative to the shore, battling currents» — la quinta del catálogo, el Navegante, con la identificación geográfica dejada en duda por él mismo: primer oficial en veleros de la época de los aparejos de cruz, y un paso de estrecho en tormenta severa que quizá fuera el de Magallanes.

«and wind. I had taken the wheel because we had drifted to within fifty feet of a boulder-littered shore. Inch by inch we finally made it through the strait, losing three crewmen in the process. Although we had several lines paid out astern, none reached them. To slack off in trying to save them would have meant disaster for the entire ship. One of those lost was my best friend» — cómo termina ese paso, con la decisión dura consignada sin adorno: pasaron perdiendo a tres tripulantes, a quienes no alcanzaban los cabos largados por popa, porque aflojar para salvarlos habría hundido al barco entero; uno era su mejor amigo. La frase empieza en la plana anterior.

«In this present life, though I was born and raised in the Midwest, the coast and ocean drew me like a magnet. In New York, one of the first items I bought when money came in was a small sailboat. Within an hour I was proficient in sailing it without instruction. Many adventures followed, including a single-handed all-night run twelve miles offshore during a storm. I was never afraid at sea and eventually ended up with a forty-two-foot ketch. I always loved sailing and I often still long for the ocean» — cómo dice que esa faceta se le refleja hoy: criado en el Medio Oeste, la costa lo atrajo como un imán, aprendió a navegar en una hora sin instrucción y acabó con un queche de casi trece metros.

«This was only a flickering ray of light. When I reached out to touch it, the image of the teenage warrior from earliest times came into being, the one I had retrieved. I was not surprised but wondered if he had merged with me on the return trip. I was embarrassed at the wave of adoration emanating from him and cooled it down with a grin and a handshake» — la sexta del catálogo, el Recién llegado, que resuelve el cabo suelto del capítulo nueve: al tocar el rayo aparece el muchacho guerrero que había rescatado, y Monroe se pregunta si se fundió con él en el viaje de regreso.

«This one I had become familiar with through my final visit to KT-95 and was definitely not a physical being as we understand the label. My understanding still is that I became curious about human existence while a “tourist” visiting other realities, including time-space. After one dip in the Earth Life System waters, I became addicted» — la séptima y última, el Yo original, y cómo cuenta su llegada aquí: turista en otras realidades que se volvió curioso de la existencia humana y quedó enganchado tras un solo chapuzón en las aguas del sistema de vida terrestre.

«The repetition of life in KT-95 had become boring. But how that original I came into being was not known either to him or to me. We never gave it much thought» — por qué se fue de KT-95 —la repetición se había vuelto aburrida, que es la misma razón que dio del episodio de *Home*— y la abstención con que cierra el catálogo: cómo llegó a existir ese yo original no lo sabe ni él ni ese yo, y nunca le dieron muchas vueltas.

«But now I see the light behind it and the thought of that part of my I-There brings pounding thunder. For one who had never been particularly interested in “previous lives”? Instantly this thought» — la ironía que se aplica a sí mismo al llegar al final del inventario: todo eso para alguien a quien las vidas anteriores nunca le habían interesado particularmente; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«triggered noisy laughter. From where? From whom? It was all around me, and in me. There was no form I could perceive, but there was radiance, in me and of me. Then within me I heard a voice» — qué provoca ese pensamiento, y las preguntas quedan sin contestar: una risa ruidosa que no puede ubicar, sin forma perceptible, alrededor y dentro de él. La frase empieza en la plana anterior.

«All right, young friend. Now you know. Take this ROTE with you and come back when you have unraveled it» — lo que la voz le dice y le entrega, y es la tarea con que arranca el capítulo siguiente: llevarse un *ROTE* y volver cuando lo haya desenredado.

«The shock of the voice and the laughter brought me fully phased back into Earth Life System time-space and my physical body. Wonders had been done for my Different Overview» — cómo termina el capítulo: el sobresalto lo devuelve entero al cuerpo, y consigna que su *Different Overview* quedó bastante removido.

«I did not find it easy to adjust to finding myself confronted by a part of me I didn’t know existed. However, communication was absurdly simple. This was not surprising, as when you talk to yourself there is no barrier of any kind! “Talk” is not the right word; communication was far speedier than the spoken word would allow and to call the exchange “conversation” is extreme understatement» — lo que le costó el ajuste y cómo describe el canal, con la corrección de sus propios términos: hablar no es la palabra, porque la comunicación es mucho más veloz que la palabra hablada, y llamarlo conversación se queda muy corto.

«What follows is a compendium or abstract of many sessions with the I-There of me, beginning with the second meeting. All I had to do was phase in gently, pass through the broken barrier, and I was inside, in the dome of light beams, in the heart of my I-There» — la marca de estatuto textual que hay que leer antes de todo el capítulo: lo que sigue no es una sesión sino un compendio o resumen de muchas, a partir del segundo encuentro.

«We wouldn’t use the term “heart.” It is too physical. In the center then» — la primera corrección que la voz le hace a su vocabulario, y da la medida del resto: corazón es demasiado físico.

«We are what is meant by “the total is greater than the sum of the parts.” Then you are the total of what I have been, whatever or however that was. The focal point, the tip of the pyramid of you and more, including you as you are now» — cómo se define el *I-There* a sí mismo con la fórmula que ya había aparecido en el bosque, y dónde sitúa a Monroe dentro de ella: el punto focal, la punta de la pirámide, él incluido tal como es ahora.

«You know the memory layer when you moved in? I do. It’s neatly set up in serial form, and also by category» — cómo describe la voz la organización de ese archivo: montado en serie y también por categoría; la enumeración sigue en la plana siguiente.

«other existence patterns we’ve been through. You can look up what you want immediately» — y qué más está organizado así, del otro lado del salto: todos los patrones de existencia por los que han pasado, consultables de inmediato.

«Consider all that fear stuff that bothers you. That’s easily taken care of. We convert it faster than you bring it in. You should recall what you were like some thirty-five years ago. Or look at some of the people around you. Talk about mess! I can imagine! Can you? It’s easy to forget when it’s not in front of you» — qué dice la voz de los miedos que a Monroe lo agobian, y con qué comparación lo despacha: los convierten más rápido de lo que él los mete, y bastaría que se acordara de cómo era treinta y cinco años atrás.

«Tell me, is there some name, some identification I can use for you? I gather you have more than one. We have whatever is needed at a given point. We’re the brain trust, the think tank, the older brothers, whatever. Why don’t you use one of those acronyms you’re so fond of? How about Board of Advisors—BOA? Or an abbreviation of Executive Committee—that’s close to what we are. I’ll settle for that—EXCOM» — de dónde sale el nombre con que Monroe llamará al *I-There* en el resto del libro: la voz se ofrece como comité de sabios, laboratorio de ideas o hermanos mayores y le propone acrónimos, y él se queda con EXCOM, por comité ejecutivo.

«You finally worked your way in here after all those years. There were so many times when we helped you along and you never looked back—we were sure you would come and investigate. But you didn’t. So we had to use more direct methods, like the physical body pain echoes and the pulls you called help signals» — la respuesta que resuelve el enigma de los capítulos anteriores, en voz del *I-There*: como él nunca miraba atrás pese a las ayudas, tuvieron que usar métodos más directos, los ecos de dolor en el cuerpo físico y los tirones que él llamaba señales de auxilio.

«Ordinarily they are items we take care of when you are busy being you —being awake and human. We decided that if you had to take care of a few of them yourself, you might become curious. And you did» — y el propósito que la voz declara para esas molestias: son cosas de las que se ocupan ellos mientras él está ocupado en ser humano, y le dejaron unas cuantas para que se picara la curiosidad.

«We made the decision to become human again. We selected the time and place and organized the DNA mix— elements from the physical and elements from us. We took those parts of us that seemed most appropriate, rolled them up into one, and sent them in. There you—and we—were» — cómo cuenta la voz el origen de Monroe, y el sujeto de la decisión no es él: ellos decidieron volver a ser humanos, eligieron tiempo y lugar, organizaron la mezcla de ADN con elementos físicos y suyos, y enviaron enrolladas las partes que les parecieron más apropiadas.

«Yes … I’ve tracked some of them down. Does this happen with everyone—with all humans? As far as we know. Some don’t have as much experience as we do, or as much to choose from» — hasta dónde generaliza la voz ese mecanismo, con el límite de su propio saber puesto en la respuesta: hasta donde ellos saben, le pasa a todos, aunque no todos tengan tanta experiencia ni tanto de donde escoger.

«Are there any with no experience at all? Any who come in … pure? A lot have no previous human experience, though they have plenty of some other type—both physical and nonphysical. Some work up from being animals» — qué contesta a la pregunta por los que llegan sin experiencia previa: muchos no tienen experiencia humana anterior pero sí de otro tipo, física y no física, y algunos vienen subiendo desde ser animales.

«Do any come in and go out with just one human lifetime? We have heard so, but we haven’t met one. Or we couldn’t identify any» — y la abstención más clara del capítulo, que se ficha como tal: sobre quienes vivirían una sola vida humana, la voz dice haberlo oído sin haber conocido a ninguno, o sin haber podido identificarlo.

«Up to now human lives have been and are used in such a random way that it’s not possible to get wide enough experience in any one life. So we keep on returning until we have what we need. Does that make sense» — la explicación que la voz da de las vidas múltiples, y no es doctrina de mérito sino de rendimiento: las vidas humanas se usan de modo tan aleatorio que en una sola no cabe experiencia suficiente, así que vuelven hasta tener lo que necesitan.

«Remember your guided visit far into the future? As we saw it, the whole thing there was certainly organized and efficient. You go in, select the experience you want—and off you go! That’s a long time to have to wait. You’re free of time, remember? Only one more return after this, into that life you visited up ahead, and then we’re free» — qué opone la voz cuando Monroe objeta que el sistema no parece organizado ni eficiente: la visita guiada al futuro que él mismo hizo, donde uno elige la experiencia que quiere; y le anuncia que tras esta vida queda una sola vuelta más.

«I was a court jester in France, in the ninth century. I was a good talker. That’s why I was chosen to meet with you. It would keep down any tension that might arise in you» — quién es la parte del comité que está hablando, y por qué le tocó a ella: un bufón de corte en la Francia del siglo noveno, buen conversador, elegido para que la conversación no le generara tensión a Monroe.

«We were in close touch in the first few years. This happens with most little ones. The influence is quite strong until parents and others bring about a gradual shutdown. Children learn not to talk about something that’s unacceptable. Later the physical contact fades away rapidly» — qué dice la voz de la infancia, y a qué atribuye el corte: el contacto es estrecho los primeros años y fuerte hasta que padres y otros lo van cerrando, porque los niños aprenden a no hablar de lo que no se acepta.

«Most of the time we just watched you. We did keep you from drowning a couple of times. And there was a time when you were very ill. You even turned up here and we had to escort you back» — qué dice haber hecho por él en esos años: sobre todo mirar, evitarle un par de ahogamientos y escoltarlo de vuelta cuando en una enfermedad grave apareció allá.

«There was the time when you were seventeen, driving at night on the back road along the river. You were going too fast over the top of the hill —and there was an old truck in the road. You never knew how you got round it without killing yourself, did you? I remember! I remember wondering what happened. So you did that? Not me. But one of us did» — el ejemplo concreto que la voz le recuerda, con la autoría repartida: a los diecisiete, de noche y a demasiada velocidad, esquivó un camión viejo en la cima de una loma sin saber cómo; no fue ella, dice, sino uno de ellos.

«I think I’m beginning to understand. You are sort of my guardian angels—or that’s what some people would call you. Oh no. We aren’t your anything. We and you are the same. You’ve been helping yourself all the time. We are just the part that helps you remember» — la interpretación que Monroe propone y el rechazo con que la voz la desarma, y es la afirmación que define el concepto en este volumen: no son sus ángeles guardianes ni son suyos de ningún modo, porque ellos y él son lo mismo.

«You and Talo both put the two dollars under the board. You and Cass both, that time in Hawaii, made the surfboard drift onto the right heading so that the fishing boat would pick you up. You and we have continually been going back and fixing things up. Do you want more examples» — cómo reparte la voz la autoría de esas ayudas, y el reparto es siempre doble: él y Talo pusieron los dos dólares bajo la tabla, él y Cass hicieron derivar la tabla de surf hacia el rumbo donde el pesquero lo recogió.

«It leads to freedom. And it’s your ride—you’re in charge. We’re not much more than a cabin of screaming passengers hoping we’ll find it and shouting advice. Find what? The way out. Escape velocity. Not just eternity, but infinity» — adónde lleva todo esto según la voz, y cómo se sitúa ella misma respecto de Monroe: el viaje es de él y él manda, y ellos no son mucho más que una cabina de pasajeros gritando consejos; lo que buscan es la salida, la velocidad de escape, no ya la eternidad sino la infinitud.

«You remember those dreams beforehand? How you were trying to fly an airplane off the ground but there were always wires overhead? I do—very clearly. Those were practice sessions we had when you came here during sleep. Yes … it’s beginning to come back … You were so frightened you didn’t notice our pulling on you—not then» — la explicación que la voz le da al sueño recurrente del avión y los cables, que en el capítulo anterior habían interpretado unos psicólogos: eran sesiones de práctica de cuando él iba allá durmiendo.

«Then … I’m no more than a surrogate of you … When you began this lifetime, yes, you were. As you grew in experience, you became a brand-new personality. The mix you started with has been» — cómo corrige la voz esa idea de sí mismo que Monroe propone: al empezar esta vida sí era un sustituto, y con la experiencia se volvió una personalidad enteramente nueva; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«We shall let Asha deal with that. He’s a good technician. He will communicate with you now. Asha …? There was a slight change in the frequency. I am Asha. Can I help you» — cómo cambia el interlocutor dentro del propio *I-There*, con la marca de frecuencia que Monroe consigna: llaman a Asha, a quien presentan como buen técnico.

«I do not know what we cannot do, but I am aware of what we may achieve» — la respuesta de Asha a la pregunta por los límites, y se ficha como la abstención precisa que es: no sabe lo que no pueden hacer, y sí sabe lo que pueden lograr.

«Well … I have often wondered why I can’t seem to perform certain actions that apparently others can. What actions are they? Seeing radiation from people, reading minds, having what we call psychic ability. All I can do is phase out-of-body» — lo que Monroe declara no poder hacer, y es una negativa sobre sí mismo que conviene retener: no ve radiaciones en la gente, no lee mentes ni tiene lo que se llama capacidad psíquica; lo único que sabe hacer es salir de fase.

«Do you wish to perform these other acts? Now that you ask … no, not necessarily. We did not believe those were needed. But if you do want one of us to use your body and talk while you go somewhere else, just relax and go to sleep» — lo que Asha le contesta y lo que le ofrece a cambio: no creían que esas capacidades hicieran falta, y si quiere puede prestarle el cuerpo a uno de ellos para que hable mientras él va a otra parte.

«No, I don’t want to be a channel. That’s not a route to freedom, as I see it» — y cómo Monroe rechaza ese ofrecimiento, marcando que es su parecer: no quiere ser canal, porque no lo ve como una ruta hacia la libertad. Es un deslinde respecto de la práctica que el segundo volumen sí documentaba.

«We cannot give you that answer. We can give you the support you need, and the information. But you yourself know what to do» — y la segunda abstención de Asha, que repite la del INSPEC de los primeros capítulos: pueden dar apoyo e información, no la respuesta, porque eso lo sabe él.

«behind you. You don’t know your own strength. Go find out—that’s what you should do. If you succeed, and we are sure you will, we shall be free» — lo que el comité le encarga y lo que se juega en ello: que averigüe su propia fuerza, porque si lo consigue quedan libres ellos. La frase empieza en la plana anterior.

«This drive I have … to help humankind. Where does this fit in? We can tell you something about that, though you may not like it. I need to know. Service to humankind might be classified as self-serving, but in your case, because the effect spreads so widely, this does not apply. The more we improve humankind, the more our prospects improve. One major improvement is equal to one hundred minor ones» — cómo el comité reencuadra el impulso de servir a la humanidad, avisando primero que la respuesta puede no gustarle: sería autoservicio, salvo que en su caso el efecto se difunde tanto que no aplica, y cuanto más mejora la humanidad, mejores son las perspectivas de ellos.

«infinity and through it. We take it with us as we go. It is the major energy base for our intellect. What you now perceive as love clarifies, not stultifies. It incorporates both pain and pleasure; it is the union of opposites to create a whole. And you found plenty of love this lifetime, once you dispensed with your illusions» — cómo define el comité el amor y qué función le asigna, y no es sentimental: base energética mayor del intelecto, que aclara en vez de embotar, incorpora dolor y placer, y es la unión de opuestos que hace un todo. La frase empieza del otro lado del corte de bloque, en esta misma plana.

«A thousand perhaps, or more. We stopped counting long ago. Every possible situation is here, every emotion. There is nothing you can encounter in an Earth life that isn’t stored here … in fifty different ways» — cuántas vidas hay almacenadas ahí, con la cifra dejada en aproximación por la propia voz: quizá mil o más, dejaron de contar hace mucho, y no hay nada que se encuentre en una vida terrestre que no esté ahí de cincuenta maneras distintas.

«To find one final piece. And you are very close. When you have it, we lift off. We shall be gone. Gone where? How? We don’t know. You will have to tell us» — para qué sirve entonces esta vida más, y la abstención que sigue es del propio comité, no de Monroe: buscar una pieza final, y cuando la tenga despegan; a la pregunta de adónde y cómo, contestan que no lo saben y que tendrá que decírselo él.

«I see … But—are you certain you have the right one? I have an idea that there’s another one being human here at this time—another one out of this I-There of ours. That is so. That is your reserve or substitute, you might say. A backup. But you are first in line» — el dato que Monroe plantea como sospecha propia y el comité confirma: hay otra persona humana en este mismo tiempo salida de ese *I-There*, que hace de reserva o suplente.

«This other … is it—she—female? She is. Should I arrange to meet her? Later perhaps. She would seem like a long-lost sister» — quién es esa otra y qué le contestan cuando pregunta si debería buscarla: es mujer, y más adelante quizá, porque le parecería una hermana perdida.

«It is nothing unusual. Many of us are working with it most of the time. Why don’t they just come back here of their own accord? Would you have done so fifty years ago? I don’t know … probably not» — cómo sitúa el comité el trabajo de recuperación que Monroe venía haciendo sin entender —no tiene nada de inusual, muchos de ellos se dedican a eso— y cómo desarma su pregunta de por qué no vuelven solos, devolviéndosela.

«What happens is that some become so locked up in a belief system that they never come back here, not even during sleep. We lose about nine out of every ten that way. They forget about us here completely. We keep helping anyway, hoping they will eventually remember—and sometimes they do. We are there to catch them when they fall through the cracks» — la cifra que el comité da de sus propias pérdidas, y es de las más duras del libro: nueve de cada diez quedan tan encerrados en un sistema de creencias que no vuelven nunca, ni siquiera durmiendo, y se olvidan por completo de ellos.

«Only one or two. The others you retrieved—they disappeared when their belief systems took over, didn’t they? So that’s what happened! Their belief system is all they have to hold on to. So they go where they think there is some kind of security. But they never forget our attempts to help them, even though it doesn’t fit with what they expect. In time a doubt arises, perhaps ten lifetimes later, and a representative from their own I-There retrieves them and brings them back where they belong» — la explicación que resuelve las desapariciones de los capítulos anteriores: los rescatados se esfumaban cuando su sistema de creencias tomaba el mando, porque es lo único a lo que pueden agarrarse, y los recupera un representante de su propio *I-There* cuando les nace la duda, acaso diez vidas después.

«Have I ever been lost in the belief systems? Yes, you have. Why did I finally respond to your help? It was a combination of things: more curiosity, less fear, no heavy indoctrination» — el reconocimiento que el comité le hace sobre sí mismo y a qué atribuye que esta vez sí respondiera: también él estuvo perdido en los sistemas de creencias, y lo sacaron más curiosidad, menos miedo y ninguna indoctrinación pesada.

«How many lifetimes have I—I mean, we—been locked in belief systems? Who can say? A large number, certainly» — y la abstención con que el comité responde a la cuenta de esas vidas perdidas: quién puede decirlo, un número grande sin duda.

«Enough. It was not a waste, not at all. We gained much learning from what happened. We learned so much from those other lives that this time we believe it can be made to work. Made to work? What can be made to work? The building of what you call escape velocity. So that we—all of us— may be free» — cómo el comité rechaza que aquello fuera desperdicio y para qué dice que sirvió: de esas otras vidas aprendieron tanto que esta vez creen que puede funcionar la construcción de lo que él llama velocidad de escape.

«From this point on, we are as close to you as your own skin. Now, my friend, you must do what you have to do. And above all, do it in love» — cómo se despide el comité, con la instrucción final del capítulo: están tan cerca como su propia piel, y él debe hacer lo que tenga que hacer, sobre todo con amor.

«It is impossible to describe the sum of the love energy distilled from more than a thousand lifetimes, which, as I have learned, each I-There of each human has in store. Moreover, the discovery and working knowledge of the existence of my “Executive Committee” within the I-There of me, as well as the structure of my I-There, radically altered my own Different Overview. This discovery filled in many holes in my Known file that had existed for so many years» — el balance que Monroe hace del capítulo, ya en su propia voz: la energía de amor destilada de más de mil vidas es indescriptible, y el hallazgo de su comité y de la estructura de su *I-There* le alteró radicalmente el *Different Overview*.

«So I am now sure that every human has his or her own individual I-There, complete with a particular self-grown Executive Committee» — la generalización que saca de su propio caso, dicha como certeza suya: cada ser humano tiene su propio *I-There* con un comité ejecutivo crecido por sí mismo.

«With your new Different Overview in place and operating, finding your own should not be nearly so difficult now that—perhaps—you can accept that it may exist. You need to look for your own answers and, when you have found them, put them in your personal Known file» — y con qué cautelas se lo propone al lector, dos veces marcadas en la misma frase: hallar el propio no debería ser tan difícil ahora que quizá pueda aceptar que acaso exista, y las respuestas hay que buscárselas uno.

«Maybe you will be able to understand why our personalities are so complex. More than this physical body? How much more» — cómo cierra el capítulo, en potencial y con el eco de la fórmula que atraviesa el libro: quizá así se entienda por qué las personalidades son tan complejas, y cuánto más que este cuerpo físico.

«There is a great advantage in knowing your vehicle well, especially if you plan to travel where there may be few service areas. My newfound knowledge of my I-There vehicle raised my confidence factor several levels. The extraordinary thing was that I had traveled so far without taking the trouble to find out what made it run. For some undiscoverable reason, my left brain curiosity had for once let me down» — la imagen con que abre el capítulo y el reproche que se hace: había viajado lejísimos sin molestarse en averiguar qué hacía andar el vehículo, y por una vez su curiosidad de hemisferio izquierdo le falló.

«The greatest of these responsibilities was that this I among the many that composed my I-There was expected to deliver an important answer or solution. Although I’d been told that I knew the question and was on the track of the answer, the concept still made no sense to me» — la responsabilidad que dice haber recibido y que sigue sin entender, y lo declara así: de él, entre los muchos que componen su *I-There*, se espera una respuesta o solución importante, y aunque le dijeron que ya conoce la pregunta, el concepto no le hace sentido.

«Now when I relaxed and drifted out-of-phase into sleep, my EXCOM took over and we worked together. Many of our tasks involved helping through, or retrieving, after the physical death process. In most of these instances, we became what we were perceived to be: father, mother, departed friend, even some “heavenly being.”» — qué forma dice tomar en esos rescates, y es un dato de peso para leer cualquier relato de aparición: se vuelven lo que el otro percibe que son —padre, madre, amigo difunto, incluso algún ser celestial—.

«Those who were not part of our I-There cluster slipped away and disappeared into the Belief System Territories. In these cases we were assisting as a kind of courtesy those who for whatever reason were not met by a representative of their own I-There, or who had missed the entry points to their particular belief system» — a quiénes ayudan fuera de su propio cúmulo y con qué carácter: por cortesía, a quienes nadie de su propio *I-There* fue a recibir o que erraron los puntos de entrada a su sistema de creencias.

«The major task of my I-There was to pick up previous life personalities who had been overwhelmed by Earth Life System addictions or various belief systems so that the essence of the personality was unreachable. When the individual Human Mind finally broke the grip of the belief, or found a crack in the system, one of our I-There members went on a retrieval mission. Time was not a factor in this, except that all such “rescues” took place in what we would label the past» — cuál es la tarea principal del *I-There*, según él: recoger personalidades de vidas previas que quedaron cubiertas por adicciones al sistema terrestre o por sistemas de creencias, en cuanto la mente rompe esa sujeción o le encuentra una grieta.

«The helping mode is another constant within the individual I-There member. This involves the insertion of ideas, thoughts, even physical stimuli, into the physical life of others resident in the Earth Life System. I became aware how much help each of us receives that we do not perceive or that we simply accept without question. Again, such help is not limited by our concept of time. It is never forced on anyone, but is provided as a response to a cry for help, a signal which might be translated into a prayer in various belief systems» — en qué consiste la otra función constante, con la equivalencia que él mismo establece y que conviene retener: insertar ideas, pensamientos y hasta estímulos físicos en la vida de otros, nunca por imposición y siempre como respuesta a un grito de auxilio que en varios sistemas de creencias se traduciría como oración.

«It took some effort to accustom myself to the idea that my I-There was not a sports car but rather a bus or spaceship, filled with a small universe all of its own. I came to see myself as no more than a shuttle craft or a scout probe operator for the mother ship or orbiter» — cómo corrige la escala de su propia imagen del vehículo, y de paso su lugar en ella: el *I-There* no es un deportivo sino un autobús o una nave con un pequeño universo dentro, y él no pasa de lanzadera o sonda de reconocimiento.

«In waking hours, contact with my I-There is immediate. I need only think of my EXCOM and indicate the performance desired. Instantly, memory echoes of similar events or situations from previous existences flash through my awareness. Some are very profound, others are stupid enough to illustrate perfectly the infallibility of hindsight. If I need the response to be clear-cut, moving slightly out-of-phase is all I need to do. I still wonder how» — cómo funciona el contacto en vigilia, sin idealizar lo que recibe: piensa en su EXCOM e indica lo que quiere, y le llegan ecos de memoria de existencias previas, unos profundos y otros lo bastante tontos para ilustrar la infalibilidad de la retrospectiva.

«many humans are hospitalized and drugged because they “hear voices.” From I-There» — la pregunta que deja abierta a continuación, y que es la que más lo acerca al terreno clínico: cuántos son hospitalizados y medicados por oír voces que vendrían del *I-There*. La frase empieza en la plana anterior.

«But if something as important as the I-There structure had hitherto been ignored, what other item of major significance might have slipped through» — la pregunta de método con que sigue investigando, y es la que mueve el resto del capítulo: si algo tan importante como la estructura del *I-There* le había pasado inadvertido, qué otra cosa de peso se le habría colado.

«Is it right that there are no influences in my life other than you in my I-There? We have not said that. What are they, then? One of the greatest influences is the interaction with other units» — la primera influencia que el comité le nombra al desmentir que ellos sean la única: la interacción con otras unidades, es decir, con otros humanos estructurados como él.

«You know this. There is also the total of all the human thought processes that ever were, ours included. You call it the H Band Noise. That can smother you if you let it» — la segunda influencia, que remite al término del segundo capítulo: la suma de todos los procesos de pensamiento humanos que hubo jamás, el *H Band Noise*, que puede sofocarlo si lo deja.

«Earth life consciousness in its various forms. For instance, you are experiencing a love relationship. Another: all we have to do is think of little kittens or trees and you respond» — la tercera, con los ejemplos que el propio comité elige para mostrársela: la conciencia de la vida terrestre en sus formas, de una relación amorosa a los gatitos y los árboles.

«Even the Earth itself. There are so many influences. And there are also the nonhuman intelligences. We have tried to steer you away from them, as much as we can» — la cuarta y la quinta, con una advertencia incluida: la Tierra misma, y las inteligencias no humanas, de las que dicen haber tratado de apartarlo cuanto pudieron.

«Some early encounters with some of us did not work out well. They do not regard humans in the way we thought they might. They have a sense of superiority because they have evolved in a different way» — por qué lo apartaban, y es de las líneas que más desmontan la lectura amable del contacto: encuentros tempranos que salieron mal, y unas inteligencias que no tienen a los humanos por lo que ellos suponían y que se sienten superiores por haber evolucionado de otro modo.

«So there are no big brothers in the sky? Not in the way we humans dream that there are. The difficulty is that these intelligences have abilities in the manipulation of energy that we cannot yet conceive of. And they use them without the restraints we put on ourselves» — la negativa que se ficha como hallazgo: no hay hermanos mayores en el cielo del modo en que los humanos los sueñan, y la dificultad es que esas inteligencias manipulan energía de maneras inconcebibles y sin las restricciones que los humanos se imponen.

«You may ask Talo. He is the only working nonhuman we have with us. That’s amazing! How did Talo … join us? We think it was an accident. Accidents do happen, you know» — quién es Talo dentro del comité y cómo llegó ahí, dicho como conjetura: el único no humano que trabaja con ellos, incorporado, creen, por accidente.

«Sometimes what we think of as accidents or miracles are no more than some nonhuman intelligence interfering, we don’t know why» — la lectura que el comité ofrece del accidente y del milagro, con su propia ignorancia declarada al final: interferencia de alguna inteligencia no humana, sin que sepan por qué.

«That’s what they were. But they lost interest when they realized you were too conscious to forget the incident» — por qué esos contactos no prosperaron, según el comité: perdieron el interés al ver que él estaba demasiado consciente para olvidar el incidente.

«Too many in the physical universe. Trillions perhaps. And there’s the other one» — la cifra que el comité da de esas inteligencias en el universo físico, con la aproximación puesta por ellos: demasiadas, billones quizá.

«There are others that seem to fit the category, but they are very rare—or hard to perceive. In any event, we have met only the one» — y el contraste que introduce enseguida, que es el dato del capítulo: en toda la historia de ellos y la suya se toparon con una sola inteligencia no humana cuyo origen no esté en el tiempo-espacio; las que parecen encajar en esa categoría son rarísimas o difíciles de percibir.

«No wonder we’re lonely. That may be. Now we cannot give you an answer to your next question. It lies with you» — cómo comenta Monroe esa soledad de una línea, y la abstención con que el comité corta la conversación: la respuesta a su siguiente pregunta no se la pueden dar, porque está en él.

«My pleasure. But it is only a reminder. Let me give it to you as a ROTE … Later, I rolled the ROTE I had been given. Freely translated and condensed, here it is» — la marca de estatuto de todo lo que sigue, y hay que leerla antes: el comité se lo entrega como *ROTE*, y lo que se imprime es una traducción libre y condensada hecha por Monroe, no el original.

«There is a broad field of energy which for convenience is called (M). It is virtually unrecognized in our contemporary civilization. It is the only energy field common to and operational both within and outside time-space and is present in varying degrees in all physical matter» — la definición del campo (M), y las dos propiedades con que lo distingue: prácticamente irreconocido por la civilización contemporánea, es el único campo de energía que opera dentro y fuera del tiempo-espacio y está en toda materia física en distinto grado.

«Because of the tendency of (M) to accumulate in living organisms, LIFE—or Layered Intelligence-Forming Energy—is a useful acronym for one band of the (M) Field spectrum» — de dónde sale el acrónimo que ya había aparecido en el borde del espacio INSPEC: *LIFE*, Layered Intelligence-Forming Energy, nombra una banda del espectro del campo por la tendencia de (M) a acumularse en organismos vivos.

«In the Earth Life System, (M) is present in greater concentration, ranging from “inert” matter through microorganisms to Human Minds. The variance and spectrum of (M) radiation is extremely wide by local standards, yet is only a small notch in the total breadth of the (M) Field» — cómo se reparte (M) en el sistema terrestre, con la escala relativizada al final: de la materia inerte a los microorganismos y a las mentes humanas, en un espectro amplísimo según medidas locales que aun así es apenas una muesca del campo entero.

«All living organisms use (M) to communicate. Animals are more aware of (M) radiation than humans, who, with few exceptions» — quiénes usan (M) para comunicarse y quién está peor situado para notarlo: todos los organismos vivos, con los animales más conscientes de esa radiación que los humanos; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«Thought is a much-used perturbation of (M), and emotions are bands of (M) adjacent to thought. Love is also a band of (M) adjacent to thought. Thought-induced phenomena, willful or autonomic, are side-band couplings of (M), and thought affects and modulates (M) radiation» — cómo se ordenan pensamiento, emoción y amor dentro del campo, y es la pieza doctrinal del volumen: el pensamiento es una perturbación muy usada de (M), y la emoción y el amor son bandas adyacentes al pensamiento.

«The introduction by humans of time-space forms of communication (speaking, writing, touching) greatly affected the need for and the growth of (M)-based information systems. Nevertheless, humans are subject to constant (M) input from other sources, including human sources, without the conscious knowledge of either sender or receiver» — qué le hizo el habla a esa vía, y qué queda de ella igual: al aparecer la comunicación del tiempo-espacio, los sistemas basados en (M) crecieron menos, pero los humanos siguen recibiendo entrada constante sin que emisor ni receptor lo sepan.

«The I-There is composed solely of (M), “There” being outside time-space but within the (M) Field» — cómo queda definido el *I-There* en términos de este campo, que es lo que amarra el vocabulario del libro: está hecho solo de (M), y el *There* está fuera del tiempo-espacio pero dentro del campo.

«Humans who are not mind-active in time-space, who are phased out during sleep, unconscious, or otherwise, are operating in the (M) Field with a lesser phase relationship to the physical. Except for those proficient in the process, most are fully occupied with coping in the (M) Field and have no more awareness of (M) energy systems than they had in the physical environment. Those who are proficient in (M) techniques rarely find Earth Life System applications worth the effort. There is more excitement elsewhere» — dónde está quien duerme o está inconsciente, y el desdén con que el *ROTE* despacha las aplicaciones terrenas: casi todos están ocupados en arreglárselas dentro del campo sin más conciencia de él que la que tenían despiertos, y los diestros rara vez ven que valga la pena aplicarlo aquí.

«Bonding effected during physical lifetimes is strictly (M) Field imprint. It continues between individual I-There clusters during any mind-consciousness state» — qué es el vínculo afectivo en estos términos: una impronta en el campo (M), que sigue operando entre cúmulos de *I-There* en cualquier estado de conciencia.

«Those who have moved completely out-of-phase with time-space—those who have died—may initially seek to retain contact with the Earth Life System. Their lack of skill precludes all but the most rudimentary attempts. After a short time by Earth standards, this communication drops low in priority» — qué dice el *ROTE* de los muertos que intentan seguir en contacto con los vivos, y vale como posición sobre la comunicación con difuntos: la falta de destreza les impide todo salvo lo más rudimentario, y al poco tiempo el asunto les baja de prioridad.

«However, the new bonding from life experience does add to the interaction between I-There clusters. The stronger the bonding, such as a love of major proportions, the closer the continuing interaction between the clusters» — y lo que sí perdura de esa impronta, en proporción a su intensidad: cuanto más fuerte el vínculo, un amor de gran magnitud por caso, más estrecha la interacción continuada entre cúmulos.

«The influence of (M) Field thought radiation induced by Human Minds would be overwhelming were it not for the inherent phase relationships involved. As in consciousness phasing, the entire» — por qué esa radiación de pensamiento no arrasa con todo, y la explicación es la misma del sintonizador del capítulo ocho: las relaciones de fase inherentes; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«individual system of awareness is in phase—tuned in—with only parts of this radiation. If there is no alignment of a given frequency, there is no reception» — la regla que gobierna esa recepción, y que hace del asunto una cuestión de sintonía y no de fuerza: sin alineación de una frecuencia dada no hay recepción. La frase empieza en la plana anterior.

«Through experience, methods that prevent reception of undesirable thought radiation may be learned, often painfully. It is a matter of phasing. Shut off the aligning receptor thought-form and there is no influence. This holds true both in physical and nonphysical environment» — cómo se aprende a no recibir lo que no se quiere, con el precio consignado: se aprende a menudo dolorosamente, y basta apagar la forma-pensamiento receptora que alinea.

«Group thought, especially when it is primarily emotion-inducing, can be highly contagious, owing to the extreme amplitude of the radiation. Conversely, the organized (M) Field radiation of a single individual can, if broad-banded enough, be many thousand times greater than that of the group. Whatever the source, reception can influence any mind and/or body that contains resonant receptors» — la comparación entre lo colectivo y lo individual, que invierte lo esperable: el pensamiento de grupo contagia por la amplitud de su radiación, y aun así la radiación organizada de un solo individuo, si es de banda bastante ancha, puede ser miles de veces mayor que la del grupo.

«There is an internal factor of influence to include. Emotional thoughts have the capacity to instill signals into the physical body which may be misinterpreted. These can interfere not only with the» — el factor interno que el *ROTE* añade: los pensamientos emocionales instilan señales en el cuerpo físico que pueden malinterpretarse, e interfieren con el formato del ADN; la frase termina del otro lado del corte de bloque, en esta misma plana.

«physical DNA format but also with the I-There pattern. This interference is engendered unintentionally by the physical Human Mind manipulating the (M) Field. The results may vary from strong physical health through immunity, to severe illnesses, as well as their remission, placebos, “miracle cures,” to physical death» — y hasta dónde llega esa interferencia, que es donde el volumen se mete con la enfermedad y la curación: producida sin intención por la mente humana al manipular el campo, sus resultados van de la salud robusta y la inmunidad a la enfermedad grave, la remisión, los placebos, las curas milagrosas y la muerte.

«Throughout human history, there have been those who have possessed degrees of control of their (M) Field thought radiation. In some cases this was a product of synthesis by the personality cluster selected for that particular life experience. In others, the process was developed in the individual by an accumulation of residual thought radiation and translated into a working system» — quiénes han tenido grados de control de esa radiación, y por qué vías según el *ROTE*: unos por síntesis del cúmulo de personalidades elegido para esa vida, otros por acumulación de radiación residual convertida en sistema operante.

«By control is meant the willful selection or rejection of incoming thought radiation through manipulation of receptor phasing. The quality and amplitude of the thought radiation expressed by these individuals were directed by the human mind-consciousness to serve planned purposes. The most apparent of these individuals history records as political and religious leaders. The most successful have gone unnoticed owing to the deliberate lack of continuity in their activities. The latter have the means to couple» — en qué consiste ese control y quiénes lo ejercen, con una asimetría que conviene retener: los más visibles quedan registrados por la historia como dirigentes políticos y religiosos, y los más eficaces pasan inadvertidos por interrumpir deliberadamente la continuidad de lo que hacen; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«other (M) Field bands with that of thought to produce a variety of experiences within the receptor, to alter matter both in structure and form, and to vary time-space energy fields» — y de qué son capaces esos últimos, según el *ROTE*: acoplar otras bandas del campo con la del pensamiento para producir experiencias en el receptor, alterar la materia en estructura y forma, y variar campos de energía del tiempo-espacio. La frase empieza en la plana anterior.

«Expressions of minor (M) Field control have abounded throughout recorded human history. They include medicine men, mind readers, witches, magicians, soothsayers, early kings and emperors, hypnotists, mediums, healers, psychokineticists, to mention only a few. Imitators without such control have been rife in every era» — la lista con que el *ROTE* reencuadra oficios enteros como control menor del campo, y es la línea de este volumen que más toca al corpus esotérico: hechiceros, lectores de mentes, brujas, magos, adivinos, reyes y emperadores tempranos, hipnotizadores, médiums, sanadores y psicoquinetistas, con imitadores sin ese control abundando en toda época.

«The power of beliefs and belief systems lies in various manipulations of (M) Field energy. Your beliefs become Knowns when you recognize or experience this manipulation» — de dónde sale, según el *ROTE*, el poder de las creencias y de los sistemas de creencias: de manipulaciones del campo (M), y la creencia se vuelve *Known* cuando uno reconoce o experimenta esa manipulación.

«There are very few ways and means to learn control of (M) Field radiation within contemporary civilizations. This is because of the intense and near-exclusive preoccupation with time-space energies, especially those of the Earth Life System. However, there is some evidence, collected from all over the world, of exploration in the (M) Field with productive results. It is likely that participants would agree that it is too little, too late, and this exploration is not likely to be a factor in the possible survival of human civilization in the current context» — por qué casi no se enseña ese control y qué augura el *ROTE* de lo que se explora, y es un pronóstico sombrío puesto en boca de los propios participantes: demasiado poco y demasiado tarde para pesar en la posible supervivencia de la civilización humana.

«What could possibly be more basic than the energy field we use, I reflected after studying the ROTE. It amazed me that I had gone all these years without troubling to perceive what had been unloaded on me. It was as if one had been swimming in an ocean for years without feeling the water! There was less curiosity in me than I had thought» — cómo comenta Monroe el *ROTE*, ya en su voz y a costa suya: llevaba años nadando en un océano sin sentir el agua, y tenía menos curiosidad de la que creía.

«The idea that every thought I may have that is tinged with emotion radiates uncontrolled outward to others is heavy with implication. It is even more uncomfortable to be the recipient of such thoughts that others may emanate. This realization would support the effort of those who make the unrealistic attempt to spread love and light in a predator world, or those who hold that we are part of a Universal One» — qué implica para él ese campo, y a quiénes concede que les da apoyo sin sumarse a ellos: la irradiación incontrolada del pensamiento emocional respaldaría el esfuerzo de quienes intentan sin realismo esparcir amor y luz en un mundo depredador, y de quienes sostienen que somos parte de un Uno Universal.

«This knowledge also fills in a part of our mind-consciousness that is usually omitted. Most human (M) Field energy is not love and light. To participate openly in this energy, in phase with all of it, could be devastating. Thus a form of shielding develops automatically as insulation. When and if leaks occur in the form of inadvertent phasing—emotional thinking—we become exposed to an incredible amount of discordant and dangerous radiation» — el contrapeso que le pone a esa lectura amable, y es la afirmación más dura del capítulo: la mayor parte de la energía humana del campo no es amor y luz, participar en fase con toda ella sería devastador, y por eso se forma un blindaje automático.

«The ROTE covers other areas also. Charisma, “gut” feelings, instant likes and dislikes without surface justification, and especially the origin and power of belief systems that evoke emotion in large quantities—they all drop into place. Also dealt with is the increasing amount of unexplained phenomena in human action and behavior that cannot be measured by time-space measurement systems and therefore is automatically rejected by orthodox or conventional thinking. One clear example is the placebo effect, recognized time and again but rejected as a prime tool because it does not fit conventional standards. Perhaps this is a case of (M) Field activity» — qué más cubre el *ROTE* según él, y con qué reserva propone el caso clínico: carisma, corazonadas, simpatías y antipatías instantáneas, y el efecto placebo, reconocido una y otra vez y rechazado como herramienta por no ajustarse a los estándares convencionales.

«What of those who apparently are well versed in (M) Field techniques but are very quiet about it? There are nearly six billion humans in physical existence in this time frame. By interpretation of the ROTE it would seem that at least six thousand, who will never be publicly known, possess what may be called incredible ability. This figure can be reduced even more, leaving us with six hundred humans in physical existence at this moment who are on the loose and unrecognized and who can do covertly anything imaginable—and much that we cannot imagine» — la cuenta que saca por interpretación del *ROTE* sobre los diestros que se mantienen callados, y el cálculo es suyo: de casi seis mil millones de humanos, unos seis mil con capacidad increíble, reducibles a seiscientos que andan sueltos sin ser reconocidos.

«I believe that I may have met one of them; but I do not know. Where are they? one wonders. What are they doing? How are they using their abilities? If they keep themselves so successfully hidden, there must be good reasons. What reasons? And why are they hanging around being human? Questions with no answers» — y cómo cierra el capítulo, con la abstención declarada dos veces en la misma línea: cree que quizá conoció a uno, no lo sabe, y sus preguntas sobre dónde están y qué hacen se quedan sin respuesta.

«But I had, and in that fact was hope. Because I know I am not all that unique, there is hope not only for me but for anyone else with a good, solid Different Overview» — en qué funda la esperanza que ofrece al lector, y el argumento es de generalización desde su propio caso: sabe que no es tan singular, así que si él pudo avanzar con esos frenos, otro con un *Different Overview* firme también.

«You need not be troubled. You have learned control of enough of your receptors to manage. If your receptors were not in phase, the influences would not be received» — cómo el comité desactiva su preocupación por las influencias, aplicando la regla de fase del *ROTE*: con los receptores fuera de fase no habría recepción.

«Thinking positively helps, does it? Partly. Deliberately ignoring the input helps more. Every lifetime we have is full of such influences» — qué contesta el comité a la fórmula del pensamiento positivo, y no la respalda: ayuda en parte, y ayuda más ignorar deliberadamente la entrada.

«How far back do we go? We can’t relate it to your time measurement system. May I show you something» — la abstención con que el comité despacha la pregunta por su antigüedad: no puede relacionarse con el sistema de medida del tiempo que él usa.

«And there they were, thousands upon thousands of lines, each glowing with energy, extending outward in many dimensions from where I was … the I-There of me! Some lines were bright, some dim, but each ended in what seemed a cluster of radiation … another I-There» — lo que le muestran en lugar de contestarle: miles y miles de líneas de energía saliendo en muchas dimensiones de su propio *I-There*, unas brillantes y otras tenues, cada una terminada en otro cúmulo.

«You did not miss it. You merely perceived them in another way. These are the sum of all the personalities we have ever been, connecting with those we think of and those who think of us. The bright ones are those associated with you in this lifetime» — qué son esas líneas según el comité: la suma de todas las personalidades que han sido, conectando con quienes piensan y con quienes los piensan, y las brillantes son las de esta vida.

«My God! No, friend. No god here as you think it. Sorry» — la exclamación de Monroe ante esa vista y la corrección inmediata que el comité le hace, que es la negación más escueta del libro: ahí no hay ningún dios en el sentido en que él lo piensa.

«You understand that these are not all restraining influences, by no means. When we go, all the love connections will either go with us or will help us on our way. Your own love that you have now—she goes with us. You may be sure of that» — la salvedad que el comité le pone a esas conexiones y qué pasa con ellas al partir: no todas son ataduras, y las conexiones de amor irán con ellos o les ayudarán a irse, su amor presente incluido.

«There are some still locked into one of the belief systems and others who will be in and out of being human during the next thousand years or so, but when you give the word we shall all be assembled. So will all the others that you saw bonded to us» — quiénes faltan todavía y cuándo estarían: algunos siguen trabados en un sistema de creencias y otros entrarán y saldrán de ser humanos durante unos mil años, pero se reunirán todos cuando él dé la palabra.

«Now look at the influence you could have if there were six thousand of you! You could change the world very quickly» — el cálculo que el comité le propone a partir de la cifra del capítulo anterior: seis mil como él cambiarían el mundo muy rápido.

«They keep themselves quiet and hidden, as you said. We did not expect that you would come out into the open, but one in your personality pattern insisted that you did. You thought at one time that you would really change the world, but that was not our intention. The others who go out-of-body simply keep quiet—and exert influence» — por qué no ha ocurrido, y el dato que el comité desliza sobre él mismo: no era intención de ellos que saliera a la luz, y lo hizo porque una de sus personalidades insistió; los demás que salen del cuerpo se callan y ejercen influencia.

«That is your emotional personality speaking again, always wanting to do good. The others know that they cannot change the system and they don’t wish to. They are content to enjoy themselves in the Earth Life System and the only influence they exert is to maximize their experience. They do not want their abilities to be known by anyone» — cómo el comité desarma su reproche moral a ese silencio: los demás saben que no pueden cambiar el sistema y no quieren hacerlo, se contentan con disfrutar y con maximizar su experiencia.

«They probably already have. You were slowed down because of the influence of those who knew about you and what they demanded of you as a result. You lost some of your freedom and it took time to get it back» — qué le costó a Monroe su propia visibilidad, según el comité: lo frenaron las exigencias de quienes supieron de él, perdió parte de su libertad y le llevó tiempo recuperarla.

«You should remember only one thing. They may seem more intelligent than you, but all they have is more experience. They know more about» — la única cosa que el comité le pide recordar sobre las inteligencias no humanas, y desmonta la jerarquía de entrada: pueden parecer más inteligentes y lo único que tienen es más experiencia; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«Those who used to be human are the ones you need to watch for. They know more about being human than the others, so they can influence you if you’re not careful. But we are confident you can manage» — de cuáles hay que cuidarse según el comité, y el criterio no es el poder sino la familiaridad: las que fueron humanas, porque saben más de ser humano y pueden influirlo.

«They are unpredictable. There are two kinds. There are those who had the same origin as we did but lived physically elsewhere in the universe. They know how to work in time much better than we do, but for the most part they have only a curiosity about humans» — la primera de las dos clases de no humanas que nunca lo fueron: las del mismo origen que ellos pero vividas físicamente en otra parte del universo, que manejan el tiempo mucho mejor y que en general solo sienten curiosidad por los humanos.

«That is for you to discover. When you have done so, when you have found the right one, we shall have a new home. You will search among the Nonhuman Intelligences, and you will not be deluded or led astray» — y la segunda clase, que el comité se niega a describir, dejando ahí el objeto del viaje: eso le toca descubrirlo a él, y cuando halle la correcta tendrán casa nueva.

«Where we go next. We have been storing up knowledge and experience and now we have learned enough here. There is no reason for us to stay» — qué es exactamente lo que busca, dicho sin misticismo: adónde ir después, porque llevan acumulando conocimiento y experiencia y ya aprendieron bastante aquí.

«It is. There is one thing you should know. Whatever you encounter, nothing, absolutely nothing, can destroy you. You are (M) Field energy, regardless of a physical body» — la garantía con que el comité lo manda, fundada en el campo del capítulo anterior: nada en absoluto puede destruirlo, porque es energía del campo (M) con cuerpo o sin él.

«No, friend. Not we. You do this alone. We are your guiding beacon to help you return. We shall be waiting for you, to show us where to go» — y la corrección que le hace cuando dice *nosotros*, que fija los papeles del viaje: lo hace solo, y ellos son la baliza que lo guía de vuelta.

«But … what happens if I don’t come back? Or if I cannot find anything …? There will be another one of us, at some time» — qué pasa si falla, contestado sin dramatismo: habrá otro de ellos en algún momento; la respuesta sobre él mismo sigue en la plana siguiente.

«Thousands of hands reaching out to touch me … eyes staring at me with joy and hope … overwhelming radiance I know as love sweeping over me and into every part of my being … all of these I am … we are … and emotion, from the bittersweet smell of success to the pain of parting, mixed with fun and laughter, the anger of ignorance, the blindness of belief without foundation, the beauty, the sound of singing voices» — la demostración de apoyo que le muestran, con lo áspero incluido en la misma enumeración: manos, ojos con alegría y esperanza, la radiación que reconoce como amor, y también el dolor de la separación, la ira de la ignorancia y la ceguera de la creencia sin fundamento.

«It is our retrieval flow, retrieving our own from outside the Belief System Territories and from the inner rings» — qué es lo segundo que le muestran, y con esta pieza el libro cierra su propio circuito: el flujo de recuperación con que traen a los suyos desde fuera de los *Belief System Territories* y desde los anillos interiores.

«But this was the feed to the INSPEC area! I remember! And I was escorted by my friend … My friend? One of you! INSPEC—that was a poor label» — el reconocimiento que dispara el hallazgo del capítulo, y cómo el comité despacha el término de los primeros capítulos: aquello era la alimentación de la zona INSPEC, su amigo era uno de ellos, y el rótulo era malo.

«Tell me, who was it that I talked with, who was so patient with me and knew the answers? Why are you laughing! Who knows you best of all? I … me? I was talking with myself? But what about the time factor? You were talking with yourself—who else knew you better» — y quién era en realidad ese interlocutor, que es el giro que reencuadra el primer tercio del libro: hablaba consigo mismo, porque nadie lo conoce mejor.

«So that’s why the meetings ended! I ran out of information. And as the INSPEC I knew better! That was so. The process served a valuable and necessary function at that stage in your growth» — qué explica esa identidad y cómo la califica el comité, sin desautorizar lo vivido: los encuentros terminaron porque se le acabó la información, y el proceso cumplió una función valiosa y necesaria en esa etapa.

«It did indeed. But I don’t remember playing the INSPEC role. No. You have not done it yet. Oh … Then I will do it when … When you return» — la objeción temporal que Monroe pone y cómo se la resuelven: no recuerda haber hecho de INSPEC porque todavía no lo ha hecho, y lo hará al volver.

«Do you remember the visit you made in the period ahead? I do. Past the year 3000, I called it. Do you realize what was to happen after your visit? I’m not sure … That is when all of us will leave. All of us, together with many other I-There clusters who will go with us» — cómo encaja ese viaje con la visita al futuro que había hecho antes: lo que él llamó más allá del año 3000 es justo cuando se van todos, con muchos otros cúmulos de *I-There*.

«As you do not want to go Home anymore, you will wait here with us after you finish the physical sojourn you are now involved with. Then with us you will make the final journey» — qué le toca a él una vez cumplido el encargo, con la renuncia a *Home* ya dada por hecha: terminar esta vida física, esperar con ellos y hacer después el viaje final.

«No, this is the last meeting until you return. We have work to do and so do you. You have our love. What else do you need» — cómo se despide el comité, cerrando la vía de consulta que el libro venía usando: no habrá más encuentros hasta que vuelva, porque ellos tienen trabajo y él también.

«I accepted what I had been told. I was assured of my return, although the question of success was another matter. I had good evidence too that I was indestructible, my I-There floating in the (M) Field for thousands of years. We are made of the same stuff» — el balance que Monroe hace, con lo que no queda garantizado dicho aparte: le aseguraron el regreso, no el éxito, y tiene buena evidencia de ser indestructible porque su *I-There* lleva milenios flotando en el campo (M).

«As for my assignment, I understood now that it was beyond mere curiosity. It had all been carefully planned, even if I did not know how to identify what I was looking for. I wished that I could take a friend with me to make it less lonely. Then I realized that I wouldn’t be alone, that the (M) Field love radiation would be with me all the time. So here was the new direction, where the Basic would be found» — cómo cierra el capítulo, con la ignorancia declarada dentro del propio hallazgo: el encargo estaba planeado con cuidado y él seguía sin saber cómo identificar lo que buscaba, pero ahí estaba la nueva dirección.

«The most bemusing aspect when mapping out the route of the Interstate has been the vast number of areas that I had left unexplored. Evidently when I had enough information for a specific purpose I had ignored or glossed over any additional data. This, however, did have some advantages; if I had been aware of the potentials, I might have given way to caution and called off any further exploration» — lo que reconoce de su propia exploración anterior, y el beneficio que le saca a esa negligencia: dejó sin explorar zonas enormes por quedarse con lo que le servía, y de haber sabido lo que había quizá habría cancelado el viaje por cautela.

«Here, allowing for the usual problems of translation, is what happened. 3:00 A.M. November 27, 1987» — la marca de estatuto y la fecha con que abre el relato del viaje: lo que sigue es traducción, con sus problemas de siempre, de lo ocurrido a las tres de la mañana del 27 de noviembre de 1987.

«resist the tendency to speed up the process, keep it slow, don’t miss anything this time … relax, breathe evenly … now the beginning of differential phasing … the fading of physical input as phase separation deepens and nonphysical sensory mechanisms begin to take over … wonder why there was ever fear … this is much the same as going to sleep but without loss of consciousness» — cómo describe el arranque, con la instrucción que se da a sí mismo: ir despacio para no perderse nada, y una separación de fase que compara con dormirse sin perder la conciencia.

«the memories flood in … gently close them down, except for one … yes, as a son of sons of sons you go with me … the essence that helped me be what I am, always with me, joyfully» — el único recuerdo que deja abierto al partir, y remite al mensaje del pozo: la fórmula del hijo de hijos de hijos, la esencia que lo ayudó a ser lo que es.

«millions of tiny flashes of light moving in rite of passage in two directions … flowing inward toward and outward from where I have just emerged, each a human mind-consciousness in transit, inward for a fresh start of a new experience in physical life … outward to a predetermined sanctuary or a belief-driven illusion» — qué ve al salir de la Tierra, y cómo nombra las dos direcciones sin igualarlas: millones de destellos en tránsito, hacia dentro para una vida física nueva y hacia fuera a un santuario predeterminado o a una ilusión movida por creencias.

«deep sadness for those whose flight slows to a halt in bewilderment and confusion … the brighter lights of those who enter from outside, the retrievers, the helpers who calm the distraction of death panic … you know about this when you’ve been both screamer and consoler» — qué distingue en ese flujo y desde dónde dice saberlo: los que se detienen desconcertados, y las luces más brillantes de los recuperadores que calman el pánico de la muerte, cosa que se sabe habiendo sido las dos cosas.

«Then the Belief System Territories, with their exit ramps leading off the Interstate … move by them slowly, one after the other … too dim to see what lies beyond … next the more familiar, more discernible, leading to the great religions … accessible for those who need them … much inflow of light into these, and a sprinkle of outflow back to the Earth Life System» — cómo describe las salidas del camino, con las grandes religiones puestas entre ellas y sin condena: demasiado tenues para ver lo que hay detrás las primeras, más discernibles las que llevan a las grandes religiones, accesibles para quien las necesite, con mucha entrada y apenas un chorrito de salida de vuelta.

«open the phase shift more, slowly … yes, the Last Timer ring, there it is … do I stop?… no, pass it by, move on out, farther, farther … … clusters of light, human energy lights, a multidimensional carpet of them, endless … I-There clusters … how did I miss them before? Now I understand the inflow and outflow … mine is there but I must stay on track … the outflow of helpers, finding lost parts of their cluster … the inflow bringing them back. And that other steady outflow … thousands and thousands … the insertions of groups of personality units into single fresh humans in the Earth Life System» — qué encuentra más allá y qué entiende ahí, aplicando lo aprendido en los capítulos previos: la alfombra multidimensional e interminable de cúmulos de *I-There*, con su flujo de ayudantes que van por partes perdidas y la inserción de grupos de unidades de personalidad en humanos nuevos.

«distinct separation … nothing but (M) Field … I know this point so well … the meeting place with my INSPEC … with myself … so many times and I learned so much … no more now … just blackness … move on, on» — cómo pasa por el punto de encuentro con el INSPEC ya sabiendo lo que sabe del capítulo anterior: era el encuentro consigo mismo, y ahora ahí no hay más que negrura.

«sudden pressure all around me, encasing me … relax, don’t struggle, don’t resist … no fear … wonder … feeling of soft, gentle energy penetrating every part of me … inquisitive, asking, intelligent … let me ask … who?… energy ceases its movement … use nonverbal … make a mental line outward, flexible … … the line straightens, becomes taut … there is a picture—twin suns, a planet orbiting, glowing sparks moving in and out of the planet … one travels down the line to here … the pressure holding me shuts off … another picture of two arms extended in welcome» — el primer contacto del viaje y cómo se comunica con él, sin palabras: una presión que lo envuelve, una energía inquisitiva, y un intercambio de imágenes con dos soles, un planeta y unos brazos abiertos en bienvenida.

«restless and bored, I learned all there was to learn on the planet and began to explore outward. I have a physical form on my home planet— like a fish—no, more like a dolphin» — lo que ese interlocutor dice de sí mismo, en su voz: aprendió todo lo que había que aprender en su planeta y salió a explorar por inquietud y aburrimiento, y su forma física allá se parece a un delfín.

«a flash of warm friendliness, and then nothing. He read my love of dolphins, and like attracts like … but where was he from … he …» — y la cautela con que Monroe lee ese encuentro, que se ficha como reserva y no como dato: quizá el otro leyó su afición a los delfines, porque lo semejante atrae a lo semejante, y él no sabe siquiera de dónde venía ni si era un él.

«a sudden bright light, blue … and a voice in my head … Turn back! Is it a command or a warning? It is both. Turn back! Return» — el segundo encuentro, que se presenta como advertencia y orden a la vez cuando él pregunta cuál de las dos cosas es.

«I can’t read it … but if it reads me, I must be able to … no, it doesn’t have a mind … automatic … not physical, energy only … a device … may be dangerous … let me send … I cannot turn back, I belong past here» — cómo clasifica Monroe a esa luz azul, y la clasificación importa: no tiene mente, es automática, energía no física, un dispositivo, quizá peligroso.

«Identify! … a picture, remember KT-95 … the colored clouds, the music, the games … The blue light blinks out. It is gone. A watchdog? Who put it on duty» — cómo la despacha —enviándole una imagen de KT-95— y las dos preguntas que deja sin contestar: si era un perro guardián y quién lo puso de guardia.

«Now, this is familiar … a flash of my original home. KT-95 I called it, but that is not its real name … only a memory … move past without a backward look» — cómo pasa junto a su origen y qué aclara ahí sobre el nombre que le da: KT-95 fue rótulo suyo y no es el nombre real del lugar, solo un recuerdo.

«Well! So you have come to join me! I did not have to come back to meet you. … this radiation is unmistakable! It is Miranon! Miranon—how many times did he visit us with his serenity and his clarity … via OBEs in this lifetime» — a quién se encuentra a continuación, y es un personaje que viene del segundo volumen: Miranon, cuya radiación reconoce y que los visitó muchas veces con su serenidad y su claridad.

«Miranon! Are you still on your forty-ninth level? I am, but I am ready to move. You come at the right moment. I was not intentionally trying to find you. I know. I perceive what you are doing. You have learned much» — cómo se saludan y qué le concede Miranon: sigue en su cuadragésimo noveno nivel, listo para moverse, y percibe lo que Monroe está haciendo.

«That is true. As with you, others are performing that function, other parts of me. Now you too are searching. But I do not know what I am searching for. Is what I seek the same as your goal? We are gathering together the parts of us, up and down in time, from belief system to belief system. I cannot—we cannot—leave until we gather all in» — lo que Monroe y Miranon reconocen tener en común, y es la mecánica del libro entero puesta en boca de dos: reunir las partes propias arriba y abajo en el tiempo, de sistema de creencias en sistema de creencias, sin poder irse hasta juntarlas todas.

«That is what keeps me moving onward to higher levels. I think I see the end, but then I see greater vistas beyond» — qué contesta Miranon a la pregunta por lo que viene después de esa tarea, y la respuesta no cierra nada: cree ver el final y entonces ve panoramas mayores más allá.

«No, my friend. We move at different rates. I cannot change, nor can you. And I perceive you have found the way and I have yet to find mine» — por qué Miranon rechaza la propuesta de buscar juntos: se mueven a ritmos distintos y ninguno puede cambiarlo, y percibe que Monroe ya halló su vía mientras él no ha hallado la suya.

«You passed it by and did not consider the opportunity. Passed it by? I missed something again? Where? At the point of your first origin. That is what I am seeking. I have yet to find my original source. I am sure the answer is there for me. It may be the same for you» — qué le señala Miranon como la vía desaprovechada, y lo dice de sí mismo antes que de Monroe: el punto de su primer origen, que es lo que él mismo busca sin haberlo hallado.

«My origin—KT-95? But I know it very well. There is nothing new there. Not new. Old—no, that is not the term. First. The first and the source. Look at the source» — la corrección de término con que Miranon precisa el encargo, y de ella sale todo el resto del capítulo: no lo nuevo ni lo viejo, sino lo primero, la fuente.

«Warm radiance washes through me and fades as the glowing figure moves away. Was the meeting accidental? It came just when needed, when the distance ahead seemed endless, bringing me added strength to give increased impetus» — cómo lee Monroe ese encuentro, y lo deja como pregunta: si fue accidental, llegando justo cuando la distancia por delante parecía interminable.

«A voice in my head—a cold, admonitory voice … I am the Lord thy God, whom you serve» — el tercer encuentro del viaje, que se presenta con la fórmula bíblica; el libro lo introduce marcando de antemano el tono, una voz fría y admonitoria.

«A feeling of intense pressure, as if I am dissolving … now I am in water … my lungs are full of water … I must have air … get rid of the water … no, it can’t be, it isn’t so … there is no water … I have no lungs. I am being made to think that is where I am … it is an influence … I know it is not so» — qué le hace esa voz y cómo la desarma: le impone la sensación de ahogarse con los pulmones llenos de agua, y él razona que no tiene pulmones y que aquello es una influencia.

«The pressure releases … I can feel fingers of energy probing for the core of me … I can stop this … close the receptors … close tight … I remember how … You do not remember! You do not remember! But I do … I remember the tests, the training experience from my I-There … they were so real … I am ready, ready for this demanding energy» — cómo se defiende y con qué recurso, que remite a las pruebas del capítulo nueve: cierra los receptores, y dice recordar cómo por el entrenamiento de su *I-There*.

«But what is this? What god can this be? It cannot harm me or affect me … be calm, warm, friendly» — la pregunta que le queda sobre esa entidad, sin resolverla, y la conducta que elige frente a ella: calma, calidez y amistad.

«Do you not accept me as your god? … the idea of a god that threatens amuses me … I let this idea flow out … Do you not fear me? … I release a picture of me blowing apart again and again into millions of fragments, and reconstituting after every explosion» — cómo responde a las dos exigencias de la voz, y las dos respuestas son burlas antes que argumentos: la idea de un dios que amenaza le da risa, y al preguntarle si le teme devuelve la imagen de sí mismo estallando y rehaciéndose una y otra vez.

«You are damned! You are no more than wasted energy of me, who is your Lord! … the energy fades to a tiny point and vanishes. How many more like this may I encounter?… a waste of my effort» — cómo termina el encuentro y qué saldo le deja: la voz lo condena, la energía se reduce a un punto y desaparece, y a él le queda preguntarse cuántos más como ése habrá y contarlo como esfuerzo desperdiciado.

«What did Miranon say? I should go back … back to KT-95. Let me do this … close phase shift … move in slowly … it looks the same … just the same … rainbow clouds … I’ll stretch out and rest for a while, lie in the clouds and listen to the music … yes, that’s better … the origin … but it’s just the same … always the same. It’s a blind alley … there’s nothing more here … can’t phase in anymore» — qué encuentra al volver a su origen siguiendo el consejo de Miranon, y es lo mismo que había encontrado en *Home* al principio del libro: todo igual, siempre igual, un callejón sin salida.

«even the curls of energy below … I remember when I was a curl, playing skip as they are now … wait … wait … skip … roll inward … I remember … but what if? what if?… reverse it, reverse skip … what happens» — la maniobra con que sale del callejón sin salida de su origen, y de dónde la saca: recuerda haber sido uno de los rizos de energía que juegan al *skip*, y se le ocurre invertirlo.

«the movement … the music is fading … clouds dissolving … the curls are gone … nothing now, nothing but a spiraling mass of energy moving outward … moving inward bit by bit … like swimming upstream» — qué produce esa inversión: se disuelven las nubes, se va la música, desaparecen los rizos y queda una masa de energía en espiral contra la que hay que avanzar como nadando río arriba. La frase empieza del otro lado del corte de bloque, en esta misma plana.

«the spiral becomes tighter, tighter … narrowing, very narrow … the current is stronger … hard to move against … but still moving … hard, hard … takes too much strength … ahead of me the vortex point … a little more, little more … too small, can’t get through it … concentrate energy … skip … skip» — cómo describe el ascenso por esa espiral: se estrecha, la corriente se vuelve más fuerte, y en el punto del vórtice ya no cabe.

«a surge deep inside me … another, larger … taking me over … another wave … it hurts but it is beautiful … (and a part of me is left behind)» — lo que ocurre al pasar, y el paréntesis es del propio texto: oleadas que duelen y son hermosas, y con cada una queda atrás una parte de él.

«skip … skip … a larger surge … hurts terribly all through me, but so beautiful, so exquisitely beautiful … nothing can be so magnificent as this … (I lose another part of what I was) … skip … another surge … nothing can hurt so deeply … nothing can be so all-encompassing in joy … but I can’t stand much more … (not much of the old me left)» — cómo continúa esa serie hasta casi agotarlo: cada oleada duele más profundo y es más envolvente en gozo, y del yo antiguo va quedando poco.

«skip … the greatest surge … this is it, this is it … there is nothing greater than what I feel, nothing so total, total joy, total beauty, total» — la última oleada, dicha en superlativos que él mismo no completa: nada más grande, más total, gozo total, belleza total.

«What? Why did I wake up this way? I need to put my consciousness back together … There, that’s more like it! Now, what happened» — lo primero que dice al otro lado de la espiral: tiene que rehacer su conciencia antes de poder preguntarse qué pasó.

«Yes, the dream. Dream? Or did I live it? Was it real—or someone else’s dream» — y el giro que reencuadra el libro entero, planteado como pregunta triple sin respuesta: si aquello fue un sueño, si lo vivió, si fue real o si era el sueño de alguien más.

«Now everything is in place and operating … the dream is fading quickly … something about clouds and curls … and moving along an Interstate … and life and death, whatever that means … something called time-space … and a blue planet … a sun … strange, strong energy … millions of suns … and love … never forget the feeling of that even if it was only a dream … a complicated dream … took so much energy to wake up» — qué recuerda de ese sueño según se le desvanece, y lo que pide no olvidar: nubes, rizos, una Interestatal, vida y muerte, algo llamado tiempo-espacio, un planeta azul, y el amor, aunque fuera solo un sueño.

«What a strange place to wake up in. I didn’t go to sleep here. How did I fall asleep? I’d better get back where I belong … … the flow, look at the flow … all moving in the same direction, from all dimensions … must join in before I fall asleep again … the dream … parts keep coming back … … must stay moving with the others … but they are all so much larger than I am … I’m just a speck … so small» — dónde se encuentra al despertar y con qué proporciones: en un flujo que viene de todas las dimensiones, con todos los demás mucho más grandes que él, que se ve como una mota.

«You are indeed, little one. Stay with me. I will help you. … the one next to me, yes … so big I cannot see it all … a strong surge of energy coming down to me … good, that does help … my consciousness is filling out more … remembering how it happened … yes … was part of the Whole … one by one, parts were placed here and there, taken from the Whole and placed … where? Can’t see it clearly … the excitement … joy at a new adventure … one by one, those around me were placed … then it was my moment … the wrenching … the uncertainty … then the Whole was gone … what terrible loneliness» — quién lo recoge ahí y qué recuerda con esa ayuda: fue parte del Todo, y una por una las partes fueron tomadas del Todo y colocadas, hasta que le tocó a él, con el desgarrón, la incertidumbre y una soledad terrible.

«What gifts do you bring, little one? I perceive none. … Gifts? Gifts? I have only the need to return to the Whole where I belong, where there are others like me … I am what I have always been … Gifts? That means more than I am or was … there is nothing more … only the dream … There is something different with you. You bring no gifts and you are alone. You are incomplete» — la pregunta con que lo reciben, y el diagnóstico que le hacen y organiza el resto del capítulo: no trae regalos, viene solo, está incompleto.

«You do understand, but you have covered it over. We have reached under the covering. Let us help you remember how it began. … What? Not the dream but connected to it … before the dream began. It was good, but the Whole needed more … and the Whole is … yes, that is when it happened … the Whole distributing parts to grow … to reproduce … to add to the Whole … is that it? Then the gifts would be more of me …? It has to do with the dream … something in it, or the entire dream … must open my memory of the point when I was not conscious here … careful … don’t want to splinter my consciousness again … That cannot happen. It will be a blending of what you are now with the awareness of what you call the dream. It is the total of that experience which is your gift» — cómo le dicen que ya lo sabe y qué es exactamente el regalo que debía traer: el total de la experiencia del sueño, es decir, de toda su serie de vidas.

«the memory of the dream opens up, and the awakening … but now I am the observer … trying to move upstream … before … a flash of light energy as I was inserted into the play of KT-95 … the boredom … the curiosity … departure … a lonely migration, seeking, seeking … bright suns of energy in endless array … joining others like me in the search … search for what? It is inexpressible … then the radiation of a blue planet satellite of a yellow sun … entry … entry to become … what?… Human … yes, human» — qué ve al reabrir esa memoria, ahora como observador: la inserción en el juego de KT-95, el aburrimiento, la curiosidad, la migración solitaria, y la entrada en el satélite azul de un sol amarillo para volverse humano.

«Moving into a physical being composed of distorted energy … physical matter, energy» — cómo describe desde afuera lo que es entrar en un cuerpo: energía distorsionada, materia física; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«locked into limited expression … the heavy feeling of that limitation, yet the inborn drive to maintain energy in the physical matter and keep it operating … a very wonderful yet contradictory design» — y qué le parece ese arreglo visto así, con la contradicción nombrada: energía trabada en expresión limitada, con la pesadez del límite y a la vez el impulso innato de mantener el cuerpo andando. La frase empieza en la plana anterior.

«Next comes the need to search being converted into acts and reactions in another modality … not succeeding in this maintenance and trying again and again … so many passages in and out, from the first small creature with the furry face … the rise and fall of awareness and intellect again and again through millennia of passages … lifetimes … the sum of all these are the gifts brought back to the Whole, but I do not have them with me … now I see the reason for the distribution of parts … what gifts I have from the dream! And I am … I am all of those life passages, all of them. What did I call the total … the I-There of me. But I am only a part of that» — y qué son entonces las vidas sucesivas y él mismo, con la proporción puesta al final: la suma de todos esos pasajes son los regalos que se llevan al Todo, él es todos esos pasajes, y lo que llamó su *I-There* es un total del que él es apenas una parte.

«That is why you are small and incomplete. There is more. Yes … others who are waiting … clusters of other I-Theres. We go as a unit … yes … So in the dream I was an … an advance agent … a scout» — qué le falta todavía y qué papel resulta haber tenido, dicho por él mismo con vacilación: faltan los otros cúmulos que esperan, porque van como unidad, y en el sueño él era un agente de avanzada, un explorador.

«When all have been assembled you will come with your gifts. You will no longer be small, but much as we are. All of the others will come with you» — la condición del regreso definitivo: reunidos todos, vendrá con sus regalos y dejará de ser pequeño.

«Was your process the same? Did one part of you come here first? With us it was different. You act as you do because your diversification is so wide. On our planet, our entire species became aware and made the shift as one» — la comparación que Monroe pide y que devuelve un contraste, no una regla universal: con ellos fue distinto, la especie entera despertó y dio el paso como una sola, mientras que a los humanos les toca así por lo ancha que es su diversificación.

«The Aperture is just ahead. It will open soon. Beside it you can perceive the Emitter for the energy beam that creates what you call the dream» — los dos términos que el pasaje introduce y que sostienen su cosmología: la Apertura, a punto de abrirse, y junto a ella el Emisor del haz de energía que crea lo que él llama el sueño.

«The dream … The hologram would be a better term … The energy is very strong … a flaming ball of energy» — la corrección de término que Monroe se hace a sí mismo, y con ella queda dicho el estatuto que el libro le da al mundo físico: holograma sería mejor palabra que sueño.

«There they come, two figures, one glowing more than the other … I move closer to the Emitter, very close … I shield them from the energy of the Emitter … opening my receptors to help in the shielding … and I remember the two parts of me there in the dream … and I feel the full effects of the radiation, but now I can absorb it where they could not» — qué hace ahí, y es la escena que cierra el bucle temporal del capítulo: protege del Emisor a dos figuras que reconoce como partes suyas del sueño, absorbiendo él la radiación que ellas no podían.

«Yes, now I know what I am, what I have been from the beginning, what I always will be … a part of the Whole, the restless part that desires to return, yet lives to seek expression in doing, creating, building, giving, growing, leaving more than it takes, and above all desires to bring back gifts of love to the Whole … the paradox of total unity and the continuity of the part. I know the Whole … I am the Whole … even as a part I am the totality» — la definición de sí mismo con que remata, y la paradoja la nombra él: la parte inquieta del Todo que desea volver y que sin embargo vive para expresarse haciendo, creando, dando y dejando más de lo que toma, con unidad total y continuidad de la parte a la vez.

«There is something—I remember something I have to do … for us. What happens when we enter and rejoin the Whole? There is much speculation about that. We can give you a ROTE describing one probable result. It will be interesting to you when you return to the dream» — cómo introducen el *ROTE* que sigue, y la reserva es de ellos: sobre lo que ocurre al reingresar en el Todo hay mucha especulación, y lo que le dan describe un resultado probable.

«When I return? I have to go back to the dream? To lose consciousness again? You have no choice. You are incomplete. But this consciousness will return with you. You would not abandon those who are waiting, even if it were possible» — por qué tiene que volver, y no se lo presentan como elección: está incompleto, y no abandonaría a los que esperan aunque pudiera.

«I am sure it will. But I … we … need so much to know what it is to become complete. Can you say? We know this well. It can be said in your words» — la pregunta por lo que es llegar a estar completo, y cómo la contestan: eso sí lo saben bien, y puede decirse en las palabras de él.

«There is no beginning, there is no end, There is only change. There is no teacher, there is no student, There is only remembering. There is no good, there is no evil, There is only expression. There is no union, there is no sharing, There is only one. There is no joy, there is no sadness, There is only love» — la primera mitad de esa respuesta, que el volumen imprime en verso y en pares negados: no hay principio ni fin sino cambio, ni maestro ni alumno sino recuerdo, ni bien ni mal sino expresión, ni unión ni reparto sino uno solo, ni gozo ni tristeza sino amor.

«There is no greater, there is no lesser, There is only balance. There is no stasis, there is no entropy, There is only motion. There is no wakefulness, there is no sleep, There is only being. There is no limit, there is no chance, There is only a plan. This is as we know it to be» — y la segunda mitad, que cierra con una atribución y no con una verdad: ni mayor ni menor sino equilibrio, ni estasis ni entropía sino movimiento, ni vigilia ni sueño sino ser, ni límite ni azar sino un plan, y así es como ellos lo saben.

«You need to move through the other half of the circle to complete your journey» — la instrucción con que lo despiden y que da forma al resto del capítulo: le falta la otra mitad del círculo; la respuesta sigue en la plana siguiente.

«The other half of the circle? It is much easier. Goodbye, little one» — y lo único que le dicen de esa mitad antes de despedirlo: que es mucho más fácil.

«Driven by a glorious need to effect completion, I begin the return. The flow stops behind me, waiting to enter. Just the flicker of a thought of entering brings great anticipation» — con qué ánimo emprende el regreso y qué queda atrás: el flujo se detiene esperando entrar, y basta el parpadeo de la idea de entrar para producir gran expectación.

«How did I get here? What did I do? Memory begins to filter in … moving upstream against the energy, using the skip technique of the curl children … How do I start it? Yes … downstream should» — cómo reconstruye la maniobra de vuelta: había subido a contracorriente con la técnica del *skip* de los rizos, así que río abajo debería ser fácil; la frase termina del otro lado del corte de bloque, en esta misma plana.

«be easy … use the regular skip I knew so well as a child in the dream … skip … skip … … and instantly back through the narrow slit … a blur of curls playing … stop just outside the rainbow clouds … how far away it was when I lay there, starting to speculate … now the flood of memory returns, the I-Here of me … the rest is easy … just phase shifting» — y cómo ejecuta el regreso, con el orden de recuperación consignado: el *skip* corriente lo devuelve por la ranura estrecha a las nubes de arcoíris, y ahí vuelve la memoria de su *I-Here*.

«back up the Interstate, once so hard, now so easy … a blur of images and vibrations … I have the final ROTE … a wave of laughter and relief … the Fellow Traveler understood me … he knew how impatient I was» — cómo se le hace la Interestatal de vuelta y a quién agradece la comprensión: el Compañero de Viaje entendía su impaciencia.

«There is still fun … and yet I know the ultimate … unbelievable, yet it happened … a strange, bright knowing, being in the dream, knowing what it is and having the emotions of the dream … yet I am still awake, pulsating with what I am beyond the dream. Can there be any way to express that wave form in the dream without disturbing the illusion? Or is the design exactly that, to disturb the dream» — la pregunta con que sale de ese viaje y que no contesta, y es la pregunta por su propio libro: si hay modo de expresar en el sueño lo que sabe sin perturbar la ilusión, o si el diseño es justamente perturbarla.

«So I have to make one more run, to the other end of the circle. I know what it is … to move the other way on the Interstate, not out but in. If I use my quick-switch phasing and the skip, both of them» — cuál es la mitad que le falta y con qué la va a hacer: recorrer la Interestatal al revés, hacia dentro y no hacia fuera, combinando el *quick-switch* y el *skip*.

«and I move swiftly in … past the I-There clusters … they are gone … past the Belief System Territories … they wink out … past the blue planet … and watch as it reverts to a ring of» — qué ve al recorrer ese camino hacia atrás: se apagan los cúmulos de *I-There*, se apagan los *Belief System Territories*, y el planeta azul revierte; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«dust … everything moves, everything moves … going against the flow again, following back to where it began … a huge flower of particles and light folding back together … back into a beam … a beam … get into it, move with it … can I stand it? It is so strong» — y adónde lleva ese retroceso, con la imagen que usa: una flor enorme de partículas y luz que se pliega de vuelta hasta ser un haz, en el que se mete a contracorriente.

«and there it is … the Emitter! No, there was no big bang … it came from the Emitter … the creation of the hologram … and there it is, the return flow off to one side … a cycle … a closed loop … a circle! Now I know … now I know» — la afirmación cosmológica del capítulo, y va como negativa explícita de la teoría corriente: no hubo gran explosión, todo vino del Emisor, y con el flujo de retorno a un costado el conjunto es un ciclo, un bucle cerrado, un círculo.

«Ram, is that you? It is. Your scout is back. Control your radiation! You’re burning us out» — quién lo recibe al volver a su *I-There* y qué le dice de entrada, con humor doméstico: que controle su radiación, que los está quemando.

«When you broke the uplink, we did not know if you would come back. But you have! Now we can act. But first you had better … I have it! I have what you need! Stop and listen, will you» — lo que su comité no sabía mientras él viajaba, y es un límite de ellos que el libro consigna: al romperse el enlace no sabían si volvería.

«You must move back into your physical body. Now. Why? Is something wrong? We have been trying to send a thought to you. When your uplink broke, it also cut you off from your physical body. If you do not move back quickly, you may lose it. It is not yet the right time» — la urgencia con que lo mandan de vuelta, y la causa que le explican: al romperse el enlace también quedó cortado de su cuerpo físico, y podía perderlo.

«If they were concerned, so was I! They gave me a surge of energy as I began a rapid shift back to the physical phase. The body was shocked, and I was shocked—it was so cold, the blood pressure very low, the pulse rate slow, the heart near fibrillation» — el estado en que encuentra el cuerpo al volver de golpe, descrito con parámetros clínicos: frío, presión muy baja, pulso lento y el corazón cerca de la fibrilación; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«It did indeed take several days. The physical body eventually returned to reasonable operation. The essence of me, however, did not. There was not simply a Different Overview, but a remembering of unlimited freedom, an ever so slight glimpse of an Ultimate Option» — qué se recuperó y qué no, y ahí aparece el término que da título al último capítulo: el cuerpo volvió a operar razonablemente y la esencia de él no, porque le quedó el recuerdo de una libertad sin límites y un atisbo levísimo de una Opción Última.

«And I knew that I had the missing Basic! At least I now have tears I can shed, cheeks down which they can roll, and a loving hand to brush them away. As for the gifts—when the time is right, I can take them with me. It may become harder and harder to stay here. The wanderer cannot wait forever» — el hallazgo que el libro venía persiguiendo desde el capítulo cuatro, y el saldo doméstico con que lo acompaña: tiene ya el *Basic* que faltaba, y de momento tiene lágrimas que llorar, mejillas por donde rueden y una mano amorosa que las quite.

«And yet, I look around me. At the magnificent design, at the wonderfully engineered reduction of ideas into practical application. At how living mechanisms modify to changes in ambience. I look at the leaf of a tree, flexible enough to withstand changes in wind pressure, guyed and ribbed on the underside so that it always returns upward-facing, performing the function of a transducer» — qué mira al volver y con qué vocabulario lo mira, que es el de la ingeniería y no el de la devoción: la hoja de un árbol, flexible ante la presión del viento, arriostrada por el envés para volver siempre a mirar hacia arriba, funcionando como transductor.

«I look at the kitten explorer, who learns more in a week than in the rest of her lifetime, who learns how to use her built-in calculator that measures the distance from floor to table and triggers the exact amount of energy that enables her to leap five times her height and land safely on the table» — y el segundo ejemplo, medido igual: la gata que aprende a usar su calculadora incorporada para medir la distancia del piso a la mesa y disparar la energía exacta para saltar cinco veces su altura.

«My awareness reaches out to the land, air, and sea which act in profound symbiosis to provide everything that is needed for millions—no, billions—of life-forms that inhabit this place. Which came first, the need or the idea» — la simbiosis que describe y la pregunta con que la deja abierta, sin contestarla: qué fue primero, la necesidad o la idea.

«And there is the added layer on my brain that gave me the chance to think instead of merely exist. To be what I am. Was that planned» — la tercera pregunta de la serie, sobre la capa añadida a su cerebro que le permitió pensar en vez de solo existir; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«in the design—or an experiment to observe the effect? Or was there another reason not yet understood? Chaos, organization, variables—they are all one and the same» — y las tres opciones entre las que la deja, sin elegir ninguna: planeado en el diseño, un experimento para observar el efecto, u otra razón todavía no entendida. La frase empieza en la plana anterior.

«Even if it all can be replicated eventually, I would like to meet the Original Designer. Once» — cómo cierra el capítulo, y es lo más cerca que el libro está de pedir un creador: aunque todo llegue a replicarse, le gustaría conocer al Diseñador Original, una vez.

«It took me many weeks of contemplation to recover from the deep run along the Interstate. Yet to call it “along the Interstate” is only partially correct. I had to make a turn in another direction to reach my destination» — la corrección que le hace a su propia metáfora al empezar el capítulo: llamar a aquello un recorrido por la Interestatal es solo parcialmente correcto, porque tuvo que doblar en otra dirección.

«“Recover” is another misnomer. I certainly did not recover—nor will I, ever. The change is permanent» — y la segunda corrección de término, dicha sin matiz: no se recuperó ni se recuperará nunca, porque el cambio es permanente.

«I have no idea how many other humans have had the same experience and returned to tell about it. Each report would be colored by the individual and the civilization and era in which it took place. This was so with me» — el límite epistémico que se impone sobre su propio relato, y es de lo más honesto del libro: no tiene idea de cuántos han pasado por lo mismo y han vuelto a contarlo, y cada informe vendría teñido por el individuo, su civilización y su época, incluido el suyo.

«And words and analytical synthesis are inadequate to convey the whole meaning and validity of the experience» — y el segundo límite, sobre el medio: las palabras y la síntesis analítica no bastan para transmitir el sentido y la validez enteros de la experiencia.

«The Basic—the missing Basic—was now a Known to me. Not a belief, hope, or faith; not conveyed by intuition or emotion; but a Known firmly fixed in my mind-consciousness. Indeed, it had been there all along, but I had failed to recognize the many patterns of evidence for what they were. Acceptance is not the same as Knowing» — en qué estatuto queda el hallazgo, distinguido de todos sus vecinos: un *Known* fijado en la conciencia, no creencia, esperanza ni fe, y no llegado por intuición ni por emoción; y aceptar no es lo mismo que saber.

«So … the Known Basic. The physical universe, including the whole of humankind, is an ongoing creative process. There is indeed a Creator. Who or what this Creator is lies beyond the Emitter and the Aperture, and I have not been there. Therefore, that part I do not know. Not yet» — el enunciado del *Basic* y la abstención que lo acompaña en la misma frase, y las dos cosas van juntas: el universo físico es un proceso creativo en marcha y sí hay un Creador, pero quién o qué sea queda más allá del Emisor y de la Apertura, donde él no ha estado, y por lo tanto no lo sabe.

«All I have is the overwhelming experience in the ray near the Emitter, and of the evolving creative process as it takes place in this world and in myself. This I perceive with my Different Overview» — sobre qué base afirma lo que afirma, enumerada por él: la experiencia en el rayo cerca del Emisor y el proceso creativo tal como ocurre en el mundo y en él mismo.

«Because of the continuing use of the label of “God” in a myriad variations, I had resisted any attempt at identification in any descriptive form. The discoloration and misconceptions would be too great. Now I know why I had resisted. The same applies to the word “spiritual” and many other commonly used terms» — por qué se ha negado a nombrar a ese Creador, y es una decisión de vocabulario que vale para todo el libro: el rótulo de Dios se usa en tantas variantes que la coloración y los malentendidos serían demasiados, y lo mismo pasa con la palabra espiritual.

«These to me are Knowns: This, our Creator: • is beyond our comprehension as long as we remain human • is the designer of the ongoing process of which we are a part • has a purpose for such action beyond our ability to understand» — la primera parte de la lista de lo que declara saber del Creador, y las tres son límites antes que atributos: incomprensible mientras se sea humano, diseñador del proceso en marcha del que somos parte, y con un propósito que excede nuestra capacidad de entender.

«makes adjustments, fine tuning, in this process as needed • establishes simple laws that apply to everyone and everything • does not demand worship, adoration, or recognition • does not punish for “evil” and “misdeeds” • does not intercede or interdict in our life activity» — y la segunda parte, que es la que más se aparta de la teología corriente y va toda en negativo: hace ajustes en el proceso y establece leyes simples iguales para todos, y no exige adoración ni reconocimiento, no castiga el mal ni las malas obras, y no intercede ni interviene en la vida de nadie.

«The desire to return with gifts is an integral part of the design. Most important, I realized that no words I could write or speak, no music I could compose, would be able to transfer fully such Knowing to another human mind. As a belief it might be possible, but not as a Known. This could come only through direct individual experience» — lo que sí forma parte del diseño según él, y el límite que se pone como escritor: ningún texto ni música suyos podrían transferir ese saber a otra mente como *Known*, a lo sumo como creencia, porque solo llega por experiencia directa.

«Then I became aware that the process of transfer was two-thirds completed—in place and operating within the learning system we had devised at our Institute» — dónde dice que ya estaba resuelto el problema de la transferencia, en dos tercios: dentro del sistema de aprendizaje del instituto.

«I remembered the human civilization of thousands of years ago that I had visited. They were more than a million in number; they had received their Signal and were preparing to depart as a completed unit. I remembered too the sudden “winking out”—the disappearance of hundreds of thousands of assembled humans, no longer in a physical state, in the nearby I-There clusters bonded together. Lastly I remembered the visit I made a few years ago, when I traveled some fifteen hundred years into the future to a nonphysical human civilization of which I was a part. They—or we —were on the verge of departure as a unified whole. My visit was some form of final closure they had been waiting for, which I did not then understand» — los tres recuerdos con que se explica el asunto de los regalos, y son los tres episodios del propio libro: el valle de más de un millón que había recibido su Señal, la desaparición súbita de cientos de miles ya no físicos, y la visita a mil quinientos años en el futuro a una civilización humana no física de la que él formaba parte.

«It was not ego gratification; I had no desire to become a guru or “spiritual” leader. It was not fame; my other life activities had taken care of that. It was not fortune; I had done well enough in this respect long before my first OBE. Nor was it the many personalities of me in the I-There of me. Individually they were as unknowing as I. They were simply part of the mosaic» — la serie de motivos que descarta para explicar su propia obra, y el deslinde del segundo importa: no gratificación del ego ni ganas de ser gurú o líder espiritual, no fama, no fortuna, y tampoco las personalidades de su *I-There*, tan ignorantes como él.

«It was the Basic; the collection and unification of the “parts,” not only the errant and missing ones in my own I-There, but the parts of the entire I-There cluster to which I am bonded. I have no idea how many others are in the cluster. It may be thousands or hundreds of thousands» — cuál era entonces el motivo, con la magnitud dejada en incertidumbre: reunir las partes, no solo las de su propio *I-There* sino las del cúmulo entero al que está vinculado, cuyo tamaño dice no saber.

«Why is there this need for total unification? So that we can become truly One. Complete, and with a multitude of gifts of experience and love. Then we as a totality can wink out and pass through the Aperture» — para qué sirve esa reunificación en su esquema: para volverse verdaderamente Uno, completos y con multitud de regalos de experiencia y de amor, y poder desaparecer de golpe por la Apertura.

«And what then? The answer is unknown» — la abstención con que corta el asunto justo donde otro libro seguiría: qué hay después de eso, no se sabe.

«The schedule for this Earth departure is apparently in the thirty» — la fecha que le pone a esa partida, marcada por él como aparente y no como dato; la cifra del siglo queda partida por el salto de plana.

«fifth century. But we cannot leave until we have gathered back all of the parts of each I-There in our cluster—a massive task. So we shall be in the retrieval mode as needed, as parts of us drop out of the physical bewildered and uncertain, or fall through a crack in a belief system that has held them entrapped for so long» — por qué no pueden irse todavía, y de ahí sale la tarea de rescate que ocupa medio libro: hay que recobrar todas las partes de cada *I-There* del cúmulo, a medida que caen fuera de lo físico desconcertadas o encuentran una grieta en el sistema de creencias que las tenía atrapadas. La cifra empieza en la plana anterior.

«My role, I could see, was that of a facilitator. The Basic needed to be incorporated into our activities and learning systems. I had been unaware of what we had been leading up to. I was unaware also of the probability that within our methods and techniques to improve human consciousness there was some kind of Signal that may have alerted and attracted those who are from their own I-There bonded within our cluster. I wondered how many of the thousands who had participated in our programs belong to our particular cluster. There is no way of knowing, yet» — qué papel se adjudica y con qué reservas, tres veces marcadas: facilitador, ignorante de adónde llevaba lo que hacían, y de la probabilidad de que sus métodos contuvieran alguna Señal que atrajera a los vinculados a su cúmulo, sin modo de saber cuántos de los participantes lo estén.

«I had to start with Knowns. What I have called the entry ramps to the Interstate is physical death as perceived by most Human Minds. These ramps lead past the edge of their Known map, and the road signs are contradictory» — a qué corresponden en su mapa las rampas de entrada a la Interestatal: la muerte física tal como la percibe la mayoría, más allá del borde de su mapa conocido y con los letreros contradictorios.

«Culturally, we know very little about death and beyond at this time. We may believe different premises and prospects, but that is not Knowing. The only thing that we all do know is that physical death is going to happen to each of us and to those we love sooner or later. But that is all, and hence comes the fear» — el balance cultural del que parte, y de dónde deriva el miedo: lo único que todos sabemos es que la muerte física va a ocurrirnos a nosotros y a quienes amamos, y nada más.

«In the matter of physical death, our sciences can provide only those approaches that somehow relate to physical matter. Specifically we are looking at a system of measurement of Something. If there is no electrical signal in the brain, if there is no chemical action, if there is no physical movement, then you have Nothing. So death equals Nothing» — cómo reconstruye el razonamiento científico sobre la muerte, y lo presenta como un asunto de medición: sin señal eléctrica en el cerebro, sin acción química y sin movimiento, se tiene Nada.

«And if you ask whether the Human Mind disappears when the electrochemical reaction ceases, much like the magnetic field around an electromagnet when the electricity is shut off, you will almost certainly receive a positive answer. But, you may continue, such magnetic fields don’t really disappear, because they leave measurable imprints on sensitive matter in or near them—so what about the mind? Of course, comes the scientific reply, humans do much the same; they live in the memory of their remaining loved ones or in the physical artifacts they caused to be formed—their work, their books, buildings, and so on. But that is all» — y la objeción que él le opone dentro del mismo razonamiento, con la respuesta que le atribuye: los campos magnéticos dejan improntas medibles, y a eso se contesta que los humanos sobreviven en la memoria de sus seres queridos y en sus obras, y nada más.

«It is easy to see why so many scientists and medical professionals are nihilist or atheist in their public stance. But even so, many are forced into a belief image of survival owing to cultural pressure or hidden hopes and guilts. Moreover, scientific and medical researchers are inadvertent participants in the Earth Life System predator process. As such, they are prone to adjust their data to suit their needs as much as anyone else. Nevertheless, some of our greatest scientists have deduced that we are more than our physical bodies, or at least that our mind is more than the output of our brain» — cómo juzga a los científicos, y el juicio corta para los dos lados: entiende su nihilismo o ateísmo público, señala que muchos son empujados a una imagen creída de supervivencia por presión cultural o culpas ocultas, y les imputa ajustar los datos a sus necesidades como cualquiera, aunque algunos de los más grandes hayan deducido que somos más que el cuerpo.

«The bulk of our scientific knowledge is not germane to any approach that tries to make Something out of Nothing, and so we must reluctantly set it aside. Scientific endeavor is almost wholly enmeshed in the Earth Life System and physical time-space, and very little is applicable in this arena» — por qué aparta la ciencia de este terreno, sin descalificarla en el suyo: está casi toda enredada en el sistema de vida terrestre y el tiempo-espacio, y poco de ella aplica aquí.

«Nor do religions and philosophies provide us with much help. For thousands of years men of religion in particular have been trying to persuade us to believe in subsequent-to-death existence. A vast number of» — el juicio sobre religiones y filosofías, que es la negativa más dura del capítulo: no ayudan mucho, y los hombres de religión llevan milenios tratando de persuadirnos de creer en una existencia posterior a la muerte; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«techniques have been utilized in the attempt to help followers into the Knowing stage, but very few, if indeed any, have succeeded» — y el resultado que les atribuye, del otro lado del salto: muchísimas técnicas empleadas para llevar a los seguidores a la etapa del saber, y poquísimas, si acaso alguna, lo han conseguido.

«So we come back to personal experience. If it were possible to cross the border, to visit the area of so-called Nothing and return, and to describe it as it is in clear terms uninhibited by belief systems, then this would in time lead to worldwide Knowing and consequently the elimination of fear. But so far we do not know how to do this. Yet there is the possibility that we are already doing it—and we simply don’t remember» — qué haría falta y qué reconoce que aún no saben hacer, con la posibilidad dejada abierta al final: cruzar la frontera, volver y describirlo sin creencias llevaría a un saber mundial y al fin del miedo, no saben cómo, y quizá ya lo estén haciendo sin recordarlo.

«If I knew with no trace of doubt what I would be and do after I died, it would change me radically. I could live my physical life to the fullest, without the shadow lurking behind every second, the shadow that says one wrong move and your time is up» — qué le cambiaría a él saberlo sin sombra de duda: poder vivir la vida física a fondo, sin la sombra detrás de cada segundo.

«If we knew that each of us had the option to depart when we were certain our physical future held no more light for us, how our lives would be transformed! If we had the assurance that, no matter what happens, we can continue our love bonding beyond the Earth Life System and time-space—if we were certain that when a loved one departs we would know beyond doubt where we can find him or her—what a wonderful freedom we would have» — y qué le cambiaría a cualquiera, en dos condicionales que el libro deja sin desarrollar: saber que uno puede irse cuando su futuro físico ya no tenga luz, y tener la certeza de dónde encontrar a quien parte.

«Having reviewed as best as I could the very little that was available on the subject of life beyond in the Earth Life System data, I decided that reversion to a personal inventory was the only way. What I was seeking had become a kind of death insurance, and personal circumstances now indicated that the need for this was pressing. My Core Self told me it was not as difficult as I seemed to think it was and with this in mind I began my search» — por qué vuelve al inventario personal, y el motivo que declara es doméstico y urgente: lo que buscaba se le había vuelto una especie de seguro de muerte, y las circunstancias personales apremiaban.

«There was a small group of those whom I knew well that I had actually contacted, after their physical exit, during an out-of-body experience. This group included my father, who died after a year of incoherent suffering as a result of a stroke. I had found him in a small room with one window, apparently recuperating, and he had extended warm greetings. There were also an engineer friend, Charlie, who died after a heart attack and whom I discovered in a cabin on an ocean shore; my pilot and research friend, Agnew, whom I met months after his fatal plane crash in what appeared to be a research laboratory, very excited about a new project» — la lista de muertos conocidos que dice haber contactado fuera del cuerpo, cada uno con su causa y su escenario: su padre, tras un año de sufrimiento incoherente por un derrame, en un cuarto pequeño con una ventana; Charlie, ingeniero, tras un infarto, en una cabaña junto al mar; y Agnew, piloto e investigador, meses después de su accidente aéreo fatal, en lo que parecía un laboratorio.

«and Dick, my MD friend, who died from abdominal cancer and whom I found looking younger and fit talking with two other men in what seemed an office. I also briefly met my mother, although this was not during an OBE. She appeared in the front passenger seat of my car as I was driving to work, just a few minutes after she died in an Ohio hospital» — los dos restantes, y el segundo con una salvedad que él mismo pone: Dick, su amigo médico muerto de cáncer abdominal, más joven y en forma; y su madre, que se le apareció en el asiento del copiloto camino al trabajo, no durante una salida del cuerpo, minutos después de morir en un hospital de Ohio.

«There were others, but none I knew as well as these. As I traced what they were … as I knew them, an interesting fact emerged. Not one had been locked into a postmortem belief system. But where had they gone and how did they get there? After all those years I had not taken the trouble to find out» — el dato común que extrae de esa lista y lo que no había averiguado: ninguno había quedado encerrado en un sistema de creencias post mortem, y en todos esos años no se había tomado la molestia de saber adónde fueron ni cómo.

«While considering this, I came to realize how very few wrought-in» — lo que se reconoce a sí mismo de su crianza al pensar en eso, y explica en parte su propio caso: sus padres le impusieron poquísimos sistemas de creencias fraguados en acero; la expresión queda partida por el salto de línea.

«steel belief systems my parents had forced on me. There had been no fire and brimstone, no devils or angels, no preaching about an afterlife; only the process of self-determination. Neither they nor I at the time realized how valuable their attitude was» — y en qué consistió esa crianza, enumerada por lo que faltó: ni fuego y azufre, ni demonios ni ángeles, ni prédica sobre el más allá, solo el proceso de autodeterminación, cuyo valor ni ellos ni él advirtieron entonces.

«Charlie came first to mind, and with a light quick-switch focus I was in his self-created nonphysical cabin by the ocean. It was like being in a still picture. The sandy beach appeared normal but the cabin was empty. The clouds were immobile in the sky and the sun seemed stationary. There was no ocean breeze. Charlie was gone. If he had been there, everything would have been in motion» — qué encuentra en la cabaña de Charlie y con qué criterio lee esa ausencia: todo detenido como en una fotografía, las nubes y el sol quietos, sin brisa; con él ahí, dice, todo estaría en movimiento.

«Then I noticed what to me was an anomaly. I could feel sand under my feet. I looked down. My feet were there—bare feet. I wiggled my toes and dug them in the sand. It was altogether natural. To one side was a stretch of grass. I walked, not floated, over to the grass and stepped on it. It felt just like real grass. I bent down and plucked a blade, belatedly realizing I also had a hand. I put the grass in my mouth and chewed. The taste and texture were real. It was indeed grass, living and growing» — la anomalía que consigna y que es el hallazgo del capítulo: tenía pies descalzos que sentían la arena y una mano que arranca una brizna, y al masticarla el sabor y la textura eran reales, con el pasto vivo y creciendo.

«The Charlie I knew never indicated he could create living organisms. Yet here was the evidence. And there was my automatic assumption of a physical form, which was unusual to say the least. What kind of energy field had Charlie generated? It was certainly not a belief system, as I had not been conditioned to expect what I found» — las dos cosas que le extrañan y el descarte que hace de la explicación fácil: que Charlie pudiera crear organismos vivos, y que él asumiera forma física automáticamente; no puede ser un sistema de creencias porque nada lo había condicionado a esperar lo que halló.

«As I left, slowly and deliberately, my sense of a physical body faded. I checked the “location” and found it was just inside the H Band Noise barrier, within the human radiation band of the (M) Field» — dónde sitúa ese lugar en su propio mapa, y la localización importa: justo dentro de la barrera del *H Band Noise*, en la banda de radiación humana del espectro del campo (M).

«In the following weeks I tried to discover where Charlie had gone. Try as I might, I could find no trace of him anywhere» — y la negativa con que cierra esa búsqueda, que se ficha como lo que es: semanas de intentos sin hallar rastro de Charlie en ninguna parte.

«The room was empty. But I could reach out and touch the wall with my hand. Why did I suddenly materialize my hand? The wall was rough, like concrete or adobe. The father I knew could not have built it. So either I didn’t know my father as well as I thought I did, or someone else created the room» — qué encuentra en el cuarto de su padre y las dos ramas que deja abiertas sin decidir: la pared era rugosa, como de concreto o adobe, y el padre que él conoció no pudo construirla, así que o no lo conocía tan bien o el cuarto lo hizo alguien más.

«Later I tried but failed to find where my father was. Had both he and Charlie returned to the Earth Life System? Or had their I-There retrievers picked them up? And what was this place where both cabin and room stood empty since their departure? As I felt before, it was too real for a belief system. My curiosity was on the alert» — las preguntas que le quedan tras no hallar a su padre, y ninguna se contesta: si él y Charlie volvieron al sistema de vida terrestre, si los recogieron los recuperadores de su *I-There*, y qué es ese sitio donde cabaña y cuarto siguen vacíos.

«It was at Agnew’s funeral in North Carolina where a vivid and hitherto unexplained event had happened. Just as his casket was being lowered into the grave, a low-flying Twin Beech aircraft flew over the site. It was exactly the same model, with the same color and markings, as the one Agnew had flown. It waggled its wings and flew off into the distance» — el episodio que intercala del entierro de Agnew, contado como hecho presenciado por varios: al bajar el ataúd pasó volando bajo un Twin Beech idéntico en modelo, color y matrícula al que él pilotaba, meneó las alas y se alejó.

«His widow broke into sobs and all of us who knew him were moved to tears. Later we checked all airports within a radius of three hundred miles. There were no records of any Twin Beech takeoffs or landings» — y la comprobación que dice haber hecho después, que es una negativa verificable y por eso vale doble: revisaron todos los aeródromos en un radio de trescientas millas y no había registro de despegue ni aterrizaje de ningún Twin Beech.

«I was right. This time the platform and rigging were there, but not Agnew. I didn’t try to locate him; there were too many possibilities» — qué halla en el sitio de Agnew y por qué desiste, con la abstención dicha: estaban la plataforma y el aparejo pero no él, y no intentó localizarlo porque había demasiadas posibilidades.

«Excuse me, but could you give me any information about Dick Gordon?” They turned and stared at me wide-eyed. Then the taller one spoke. “I’m sorry, we weren’t expecting you. Do you need to sit down? Are you tired» — cómo lo reciben los dos hombres del cuarto de Dick, y la pregunta que hacen dice qué esperaban: si necesita sentarse, si está cansado.

«You still have a living physical body?” I hesitated. “Well, yes, I do. But …” “And you know you’re not dreaming» — qué descubren en él, y son las dos cosas que lo distinguen de los demás que llegan ahí: sigue teniendo cuerpo físico vivo y sabe que no está soñando; la escena sigue en la plana siguiente.

«vigorously. “I’ve heard about people like you but you’re the first we’ve met» — y la reacción del otro, que da la medida de lo raro que es: había oído de gente así y nunca había conocido a ninguna. La frase empieza en la plana anterior.

«This is a place where certain people come when they’ve died. With a little help sometimes. Most of them don’t know it exists.” “What people?” “Medical types. Physicians, surgeons, and so on» — qué es ese lugar y para quién, en voz de sus residentes: un sitio adonde llegan ciertos muertos, a veces con algo de ayuda, que la mayoría ignora que exista, y son médicos y cirujanos.

«To calm down after the big change,” George explained. “They need it especially because they have been so locked in to keeping patients alive. But they recover quickly in a familiar environment» — para qué van, con el motivo profesional puesto en la respuesta: para calmarse tras el gran cambio, que a ellos les cuesta más por haber estado tan atados a mantener vivos a los pacientes.

«I became aware that I was in a typical doctor’s office—waiting room, with chairs, coffee tables, and stacks of old magazines. Through a glass window I could see the nurse’s desk and file cabinets. An inner office with desk and chairs was visible through an open doorway, and on the far side of this I glimpsed a room with examining table, scales, and other equipment» — cómo es el sitio, montado pieza por pieza con lo que le resulta familiar a un médico: sala de espera con revistas viejas, el escritorio de la enfermera, los archiveros, el consultorio y la sala de exploración.

«We don’t know,” Fred replied. “It was here when we arrived. It’s an artifact created simply to help the medical mind adjust to the change. It’s so familiar. That’s why it works» — quién lo construyó, y la abstención es de sus propios residentes: no lo saben, ya estaba ahí, y es un artefacto hecho para que la mente médica se ajuste al cambio, que funciona por familiar.

«There are several hundred at least, just in the receiving area. They are the ones that stay and help. They come and go all the time» — cuántos hay ahí según ellos: varios cientos al menos solo en el área de recepción, los que se quedan a ayudar, entrando y saliendo todo el tiempo.

«He must have seen the shock on my face as the wave of memory flowed into me. The Park! Years ago, I had arrived at the Park. But how or why I got there I could not recall. There had been a welcoming group of ten or twelve men and women, who greeted me warmly and explained where I was. It was a place to calm down in after the trauma of physical death—a way station, for relaxation and decision as to what to do next» — qué es el Parque según lo recuerda de una visita de años atrás: un sitio para calmarse tras el trauma de la muerte física, una estación de paso para descansar y decidir qué hacer después, donde lo recibió un grupo de diez o doce personas.

«He waved his arm at the door behind him. “Just go out, turn left, and follow the path through the woods. It’s not far» — la indicación con que lo mandan al Parque, dicha como quien da una dirección de calle: salir, doblar a la izquierda y seguir el sendero por el bosque.

«I went outside, turned left, and there indeed was a woods with tall trees, most of them familiar to me. A path led through an opening, and I followed it. Although I was eager to hurry, I decided to remain walking. The feel of the leaves and grass against the soles of my feet was much too good. My feet were bare! As I walked on, a gentle breeze touched my head and chest. I could feel! Just as with my bare feet, I could feel. I passed oaks, poplars, hickories, sycamores, chestnuts, pines, and cedars, even an incongruous palm tree, and trees I never knew existed» — qué encuentra en ese bosque, con lo que no encaja consignado en la misma lista: robles, álamos, nogales, sicómoros, castaños, pinos y cedros, una incongruente palmera y árboles que no sabía que existieran.

«the blooms mixed with that of rich loam was wonderful. I could smell» — cómo va inventariando los sentidos que le funcionan ahí, uno por uno: el olor de las flores mezclado con el del mantillo. La frase empieza del otro lado del corte de bloque, en esta misma plana.

«And the birds—about half of them were species I had never seen before! They were singing, chirping, calling, flying from tree to tree» — y las aves, con la proporción que le llama la atención: cerca de la mitad eran especies que nunca había visto; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«and sweeping across my path. Hundreds of them. And I could hear! I walked more slowly in wonderment. My hand—yes, my physical hand again—reached out and plucked a leaf from the low branch of a maple. It felt alive and flexible. I put it in my mouth and chewed. It was moist, and tasted exactly like the maple leaves of my childhood» — cómo comprueba el sabor, repitiendo el experimento del pasto de Charlie: arranca una hoja de arce, la mastica y sabe exactamente como las hojas de arce de su infancia.

«Suddenly I knew what had happened—what was probably still taking place. This was a human creation! Many of those who walked this path created and added their own favorite bird or tree to the woods. They were alive—living creations, created by humans! They were not the standard reproductive mode followed in the Earth Life System, which is really not human-created but the idea and plan of Someone else» — la conclusión que saca, y es el hallazgo del capítulo con su distinción incluida: el bosque es creación humana, con cada caminante añadiendo su ave o su árbol favorito, vivos y creados por humanos, y no el modo reproductivo del sistema de vida terrestre, que no es de hechura humana sino idea y plan de Alguien más.

«And all the rest of it behind me in my search was the same, the product of a human mind-consciousness. The medical haven, Agnew’s rigging, my father’s recuperation room, and Charlie’s cabin by the ocean. Charlie, I remembered, had even demonstrated how he put it together» — y cómo esa conclusión reordena todo lo que había visto antes: el refugio médico, el aparejo de Agnew, el cuarto de convalecencia de su padre y la cabaña de Charlie son producto de conciencia humana, y Charlie hasta le había mostrado cómo la armó.

«All human creation! The Basic! I know of the existence of our Creator, but are all of us really creators out of the same mold? Is my Core Self I accepted so casually a minuscule replica or clone of the Original? How far can we take this only partially expressed idea» — lo que se pregunta a partir de ahí, y conviene leerlo como preguntas y no como doctrina: si todos somos creadores del mismo molde, si el *Core Self* que aceptó tan a la ligera es una réplica minúscula del Original, y hasta dónde puede llevarse una idea solo expresada a medias.

«As if to prove the point of reality, a large orange parrot flew over my shoulder, chirped, and released a white dropping in my hand as he passed. I laughed as I tested the warm consistency of it between thumb and forefinger. It was certainly real» — la prueba de realidad con que remata el pasaje, y el libro no la solemniza: un perico naranja le suelta un excremento en la mano al pasar, y él prueba entre los dedos la consistencia tibia.

«Before me was the Park. It was the same as when I had visited many years ago, with winding walks, benches, flowers and shrubbery, different-colored grass lawns, clusters of stately trees, small streams and fountains, and» — cómo describe el Parque, igual que en su visita de años atrás: paseos sinuosos, bancas, flores y arbustos, céspedes de distintos colores, arboledas, arroyos y fuentes; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«As I walked down the slope to the nearest bench, I wondered what human mind or group of humans put this together. It was a magnificent creation for a lowly human. Yet I knew this was the way it had come into existence. But I had not thought of such things on my previous visit those years ago. Now I remembered—I knew— why it was here» — la pregunta que se hace por su autoría y lo que ya sabe al hacérsela: qué mente humana o qué grupo lo armó, una creación magnífica para un humano cualquiera, y esta vez sí sabe por qué está ahí.

«A woman rose from the bench as I approached. She was of medium height, slender, with large brown eyes and dark brown, slightly wavy hair down to her shoulders. Her face was smooth and lightly tanned, with features that seemed to have touches of the Orient, the Middle East, and Europe» — a quién encuentra ahí, descrita sin adjudicarle procedencia: rasgos con toques de Oriente, del Medio Oriente y de Europa.

«At last you are here! Welcome back, Ashaneen.” Ashaneen—my name, remembered from another lifetime. It told me a lot about her» — cómo lo saluda ella y qué deduce Monroe de ese saludo: lo llama por el nombre que Heshe le había dado en el capítulo cuatro, recordado de otra vida.

«I am only the messenger. I am to tell you that you may by all means bring people to us, those who are newly physically dead. We will take care of them. That is why we are here. And you may teach others to do this» — el encargo que ella declara traer, y es el que da origen al programa del capítulo siguiente: puede llevarles a los recién muertos, ellos se encargan, y puede enseñar a otros a hacerlo.

«We are sure you can. Many of them are probably doing it now. All you need to do is help them remember. It is a wholly objective way to remove the fear of physical death» — cómo desactiva ella la objeción de que eso sonará extraño, y para qué sirve según su propio criterio: muchos probablemente ya lo hacen y solo hay que ayudarlos a recordar, y es un modo enteramente objetivo de quitar el miedo a la muerte física.

«There are many even you have not considered, Ashaneen. Or would you prefer we call you Robert?” “Robert or Bob, please. My physical friends call me Bob. The name Ashaneen might trouble them» — cómo negocian el nombre, y el motivo que Monroe da es de trato con sus lectores: prefiere Robert o Bob, porque Ashaneen podría inquietar a sus amigos físicos.

«I am becoming aware of that. And I’m trying to recall your name. You are … the wife of … Ileon—yes, Ileon!” “Mate is a better word.” “You are … Nevisse» — cómo la identifica él, y los dos nombres se consignan tal como el troceo los imprime: la pareja de Ileon, que se llama Nevisse. Ella corrige que compañera es mejor palabra que esposa.

«That is so. But if they have a strong belief, they will follow that» — cómo empieza la regla de no interferencia que ella enuncia: quien tenga una creencia fuerte seguirá esa directiva; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«directive and go where that belief leads them. There will be others of the same belief waiting to help them. You let them go and leave them alone. That is where they belong» — y cómo la completa, que es la posición del libro sobre los sistemas de creencias ajenos: habrá otros de la misma creencia esperándolo, y hay que dejarlo ir y en paz porque ahí es donde pertenece. La frase empieza en la plana anterior.

«But all this … this is not just another belief, is it?” Nevisse laughed. “Not in the usual sense. There are no beliefs involved, only experience. The design here is only to provide a familiar surrounding to ease the anxiety» — cómo distingue ella al Parque de un sistema de creencias, que es la objeción obvia: ahí no hay creencias sino experiencia, y el diseño solo provee un entorno familiar que alivie la ansiedad.

«Is a creation that is here and will be here whatever your beliefs. It will not disappear if you don’t believe it exists.” “Who made it?” “A human civilization many thousands of years ago. They have been gone long since» — la prueba de independencia que ella ofrece y a quién le atribuye la obra: el lugar no desaparece si uno no cree que existe, y lo hizo una civilización humana de hace miles de años que se fue hace mucho.

«What about those who simply want—or need—to return to what I have called their I-There? I’m sure you understand what I mean.” “I do. That is the destination of most who depart from here» — adónde va la mayoría de quienes salen del Parque, según ella: a su propio *I-There*.

«So, when we bring people here, you calm them down and give them the opportunity to consider what they want to do next.” “That is so. We show them what opportunities do exist. The Park is but a starting point. You will be astounded when you see all of the little individual places that residents have created» — qué hacen ahí con los recién llegados y qué hay más allá: los calman y les muestran las oportunidades que existen, porque el Parque es solo un punto de partida rodeado de los sitios que cada residente se ha creado.

«Are there rules?” “Only one. No imposition of one will upon another» — la única regla del lugar, y es lo más parecido a una ley moral que el libro enuncia: ninguna imposición de una voluntad sobre otra.

«This knowledge … of here, of where to go at death … where to meet … this knowledge before the event … it gives ultimate» — qué le atribuye Monroe a ese saber anticipado, y el término queda partido por el salto de plana: tener este conocimiento antes del hecho da libertad última.

«No need to ask. The creative processes whose results you have observed are already known to us as human. And your father did construct his own room» — cómo se resuelve, sin que él llegue a preguntarlo, la duda que había dejado abierta sobre la pared de adobe: los procesos creativos que observó ya les constan como humanos, y su padre sí construyó su propio cuarto.

«There was no need to ask. Ta na sen!” “You have remembered. A goodbye phrase from one hundred thousand years ago. Ta na sen» — la fórmula de despedida que a él le sale sola y que ella le confirma, con la datación que da el propio texto: una frase de adiós de hace cien mil años.

«Now that I knew what had to be done, one further question arose. How could I organize all that I had experienced into such a shape that it could be absorbed and put into practice by others? Not only that: how could those experiences, which for me had stretched over years, be compressed into a time-frame which others would find practical and appropriate? This was not a process that could be established by trial and error, for what we were shortly to be handling was, quite literally, a matter of life and death. It had to be as nearly right as possible the first time. And events in my personal life were telling me that there was little time to spare» — el problema práctico con que abre el capítulo y la urgencia que lo aprieta: cómo comprimir en un plazo practicable lo que a él le llevó años, sin poder proceder por ensayo y error porque se trata literalmente de vida y muerte.

«But I was fortunate—or perhaps it was not good fortune but the fulfillment or completion of a design begun more than three decades ago when we first commenced research into human consciousness. For at my disposal I had all the resources of our Institute, which for many years had shown that it was possible to bring individuals right up to that transitional point between physical life and death and enable some of them at least to see into the beyond. That our procedures were safe and that our participants benefited enormously and in so many ways had been proved beyond doubt» — con qué contaba para hacerlo, y cómo evalúa lo ya probado: los recursos del instituto, que llevaba años llevando gente hasta el punto de transición entre vida y muerte, con procedimientos seguros y beneficios que da por demostrados.

«My left brain told me that two things were needed. The first was research into the frequencies of brain waves translated into sound that would permit the individual mind-consciousness to travel safely beyond the transitional point and to return when the task was accomplished. The second was a program that would be suitable and effective for the wide variety of people who might be attracted by the prospect of service to those no longer in physical existence. So, with my closest colleagues, I set to work. The simplest thing was to find a title for the program: Lifeline» — las dos piezas que se propuso construir y el nombre que les puso: investigación de frecuencias de ondas cerebrales traducidas a sonido para viajar más allá del punto de transición y volver, y un programa apto para gente muy diversa.

«The first Lifeline program took place at the Institute during the week beginning June 22, 1991. In the following fourteen months, some two hundred people participated in the six-day intensive learning process. Among those attending were physicians, psychologists, engineers, researchers, business executives, psychiatrists, writers, attorneys, educators, therapists, musicians, and artists. All were graduates of at least one previous Institute program, as this was a prerequisite for attendance at Lifeline» — los datos duros del programa: arrancó la semana del 22 de junio de 1991, y en catorce meses pasaron unas doscientas personas por un proceso intensivo de seis días, todas egresadas de al menos un programa previo del instituto.

«Apart from that, they represented widely divergent backgrounds, interests, lifestyles, and previous experiences with the exploration of consciousness. Yet at the end of each program almost all attested to their ability to visit the Reception Center—the Park—and many also acknowledged that they now knew for certain that they would survive the physical death process» — qué reporta de los resultados, y conviene el verbo que usa: casi todos declararon poder visitar el Centro de Recepción, el Parque, y muchos reconocieron saber ya con certeza que sobrevivirían a la muerte física.

«I was indeed surprised. It was clear that the process could be taught. Following the first session, I had reasoned that the phenomena reported might possibly have been unique to that particular group. The reports from the second session might, again possibly, be coincidental. With the third session, however, it really did seem as if the process was viable. Ten sessions later, I do not see how there can be any doubt. We have been able to accomplish what we set out to do» — cómo razona su propia serie, y el razonamiento vale más que la conclusión: tras la primera sesión pensó que el fenómeno podía ser propio de ese grupo, tras la segunda que podía ser coincidencia, y tras la tercera le pareció viable.

«Lifeline is designed to be effective without respect to any specific belief held by the individual participant, and to instill knowledge through direct experience. It is a “Know” system and does not of itself negate any currently held beliefs, with the possible exception of nihilism» — cómo se sitúa el programa frente a las creencias del participante, con la única excepción que él mismo consigna: no depende de ninguna en particular, es un sistema de saber y no niega por sí mismo las creencias que se tengan, salvo quizá el nihilismo.

«to release all fears related to the physical death process; to establish a familiarity with different states of consciousness until these states become Knowns instead of beliefs; to generate ongoing communication and relationships with other Human Minds active in other states of consciousness; to incorporate such acquired knowledge both consciously and at the» — los primeros objetivos declarados del programa: soltar los miedos ligados al proceso de la muerte física, familiarizarse con estados de conciencia hasta volverlos *Knowns*, comunicarse con otras mentes humanas activas en otros estados, e incorporar ese saber a la vida física; la lista sigue en la plana siguiente.

«to insure upon the cessation of physical life existence, for whatever reason, that such knowledgeable human mind-consciousness will shift without interruption to other forms of existence» — y el último objetivo, que es el que da nombre al programa: asegurar que al cesar la vida física la conciencia informada pase sin interrupción a otras formas de existencia.

«One of the hallmarks of these methods and techniques is the use of the term “Focus level” to indicate and identify, in a convenient and easily understood way, a particular state of consciousness. Hitherto, programs had taken participants through Focus 3 (mind-brain synchrony), Focus 10 (mind awake and alert, body asleep), Focus 12 (state of expanded awareness), Focus 15 (state of no time), to Focus 21 (the edge of time-space where it is possible to contact other energy systems» — cómo nombra el instituto los estados de conciencia y qué cubre su escala anterior: *Focus 3* como sincronía mente-cerebro, *Focus 10* mente despierta y cuerpo dormido, *Focus 12* conciencia expandida, *Focus 15* estado sin tiempo y *Focus 21* el borde del tiempo-espacio.

«Focus 22. Where humans still in physical existence have only partial consciousness. In this state would be those suffering from delirium, from chemical dependency or alcoholism, or from dementia. It would also include patients who were anesthetized or comatose. Experiences here might be remembered as dreams or hallucinations» — la definición de *Focus 22*, y es la que más toca al terreno clínico: humanos todavía físicos con conciencia parcial —delirio, dependencia química, alcoholismo, demencia, anestesiados o en coma—, cuyas experiencias podrían recordarse como sueños o alucinaciones.

«Focus 23. A level inhabited by those who have recently left physical existence but who either have not been able to recognize and accept this or are unable to free themselves from the ties of the Earth Life System. It includes those from all periods of time» — la de *Focus 23*, que es donde ocurre casi todo el capítulo: quienes acaban de dejar la existencia física y no lo reconocen o no logran soltar las ataduras del sistema terrestre, de todas las épocas.

«This covers the Belief System Territories, occupied by nonphysical humans from all periods and areas who have accepted and subscribed to various premises and concepts. These would include religious and philosophical beliefs that postulate some form» — la definición del tramo *Focus 24–26*, donde el esquema ubica a las religiones y filosofías: los *Belief System Territories*, ocupados por humanos no físicos de cualquier época y región que suscribieron premisas sobre alguna forma de existencia posterior a lo físico; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«Focus 27. Here is the site of what we may call the Reception Center or the Park, which is the hub of it. This is an artificial synthesis created by human minds, a way station designed to ease the trauma and shock of the transition out of physical reality. It takes on the form of various earth environments in order to be acceptable to the enormously wide variety of newcomers» — la de *Focus 27*, con la naturaleza del Parque dicha sin rodeos: una síntesis artificial creada por mentes humanas, estación de paso para aliviar el trauma de la transición, que toma formas de entornos terrestres para resultar aceptable.

«Focus 28. Beyond not only time-space but human thought. Residence in 28 or beyond limits any return to a physical human body» — y la de *Focus 28*, con la restricción que trae: más allá del tiempo-espacio y del pensamiento humano, y residir ahí o más lejos limita el regreso a un cuerpo humano físico.

«Each individual is invited to create his own personal and special place within Focus 27, a place to which he may return at will. The forms that these places take are as varied and unique as the participants themselves, ranging for example from log cabins by quiet streams to clumps of trees, South Sea islands, palaces of crystal, and corners of one’s heart» — qué se le pide a cada participante en *Focus 27* y qué sale de ahí: crear su propio lugar, tan variados como ellos mismos, de cabañas junto a arroyos a islas del Pacífico, palacios de cristal y rincones del propio corazón.

«Return to one’s place in Focus 27 is facilitated by the use of a personal identification signal code, a self-chosen symbol or representation which the individual creates and installs. It functions as a kind of resonant homing device to guide the individual back» — cómo se vuelve a ese lugar propio, con la pieza técnica del método: un código de señal de identificación personal, símbolo elegido e instalado por uno, que funciona como radiofaro resonante.

«Once participants are familiar with the range of Focus levels they are advised how to assist those no longer in physical existence who need help. They phase gradually into Focus 27 and there they may ask for help and guidance for themselves. Then they return to Focus 23, sometimes accompanied by a guide or helper, where they may be attracted to a situation in which their assistance is needed in order for someone to move onward» — el procedimiento de rescate tal como lo enseñan: se pasa gradualmente a *Focus 27*, ahí se pide ayuda y guía para uno mismo, y se vuelve a *Focus 23* a veces acompañado, donde uno se ve atraído a una situación que requiere asistencia.

«It may be that the someone refuses to accept the fact of his or her physical death, or is unwilling to let go owing to some perceived gain from continuing to be attached to the physical. The participant seeks to communicate with this individual, encouraging him to release and move onward» — qué retiene a quien hay que mover, según el manual del programa: la negativa a aceptar la propia muerte, o el no querer soltar por alguna ganancia percibida en seguir atado a lo físico.

«If this encouragement is successful, as it often is, the two, perhaps accompanied by the guide, move together toward Focus 27. On the way, some individuals will slip away into the Belief System Territories of Focus 24–26, where they will be welcomed by those» — adónde van los rescatados, y el desvío se consigna sin juicio: algunos se escurren en el camino hacia los *Belief System Territories* de *Focus 24–26*, donde los reciben los de su propio credo; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«With regard to this next step, several options are available to the new arrivals, among them the following: reunion with loved ones who have previously made the transition; communication with those who are still alive in the physical state; renewal of contact and return to the Original Self (the I-There); return to experience another Earth human life; meeting and discussion with those of the same belief, which may involve departure to that Belief System Territory; assuming temporarily the “retrieving” role; assuming physical life activity in other forms (nonhuman) at other sites (elsewhere in this universe); participating in studies and exploration of other phases of the Consciousness Continuum» — el catálogo de opciones que el programa le atribuye al recién llegado, y la reencarnación es una entre ocho: reunirse con los suyos, comunicarse con los vivos, volver al *I-There*, vivir otra vida humana terrestre, irse a su Territorio de creencias, hacer de recuperador, tomar vida física no humana en otro sitio del universo, o explorar el continuo de conciencia.

«One further element in the process needs to be mentioned. Lifeline participants are encouraged to seek as much information as they can from the subjects of their retrievals. By this are meant personal details, such as name, age, address or state or country of origin, date and cause of death (road accident, illness, natural disaster, warfare, and so on), occupation, and any other details that may seem relevant. Communication is generally nonverbal and often by means of a ROTE—a ball of thought» — qué se les pide averiguar a los participantes, y es lo que hace verificable al asunto: nombre, edad, domicilio o país, fecha y causa de muerte, oficio y cualquier detalle relevante, comunicados casi siempre sin palabras y a menudo por *ROTE*.

«Where the information received is sufficiently full, it is passed later to the Lifeline Research Department, which sets a process of verification or validation in motion. In most instances it has not so» — qué se hace con esa información: pasa a un departamento de investigación del programa que echa a andar un proceso de verificación; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«But on a few occasions enough information has become available for secure verification to be made: a person of that name, age, and place died in that manner at that time. For most participants this does not matter; they are so convinced of the reality of the process that they are not concerned about this kind of checking. The Institute, however, feels that it is important for this to happen, although once twenty or thirty instances have been verified there would seem little purpose in looking for more» — lo que sí se ha conseguido y con qué criterio se acota, y el criterio conviene retenerlo: en unas pocas ocasiones se verificó que alguien de ese nombre, edad y lugar murió así en esa fecha; a los participantes no les importa porque ya están convencidos, y al instituto le parece que con veinte o treinta casos verificados basta.

«Participants in the program sometimes make contact in Focus 23 with someone they recognize, a relative or friend who died recently and who recognizes them also. When this happens, there is a noticeable difference in the “feeling” of the encounter, much like the difference between walking into a room of strangers and walking into a room where one is surprised to find a sister or brother. Recognition is immediate and there is a heightening of the energy in the exchanges which follow. More often the participants are drawn to someone whom they have never met before. It may be someone from a different culture or epoch of time, of any age, color, or creed» — cómo distingue el programa entre encontrarse a un conocido y a un desconocido, con la comparación que usa: reconocer a un pariente o amigo recién muerto se siente como entrar en un cuarto y hallar a un hermano en vez de a extraños.

«What surprises many participants, however, is that while they are engaged in their mission they discover that at the same time they are retrieving lost parts of themselves. These may appear as past-life selves who remained in Focus 23. Some are found who settled in the Belief System Territories of Focus 24–26 and who had begun, through gradual doubt of the beliefs they once had held, to “fall through the cracks,” as it were, of that particular system. Others may appear as fragments of current life personalities, aspects which had fled or been torn away from the Core Self; for example, child selves who had escaped from the trauma and pain of physical or emotional abuse in their families and now seek to be reunited» — lo que a los participantes los sorprende, y es la misma estructura que Monroe describió de sí mismo: mientras rescatan a otros recuperan partes propias, que aparecen como yoes de vidas pasadas, como los que se asentaron en los Territorios de creencias y empiezan a dudar, o como fragmentos de la vida actual desprendidos del *Core Self* por trauma o maltrato.

«The guidance that may be requested in Focus 27 manifests, according to our participants, in many different forms. It may appear externally or sensed internally; it may be constant through all the experiences or may change from time to time» — cómo se presenta la guía que se pide en *Focus 27*, según los propios participantes: en formas muy distintas, externa o sentida por dentro, constante o cambiante.

«include mention of “a glowing white shape,” an individual called “Sam,” a hooded figure who revealed himself as a famous film star, a little dog, the color blue, a human hand, and voices saying “we are here.” Some participants do not see guidance as separate from themselves in any way; “guidance and I are one,” as one report says» — y la lista concreta de esas formas, que el libro imprime sin ordenarlas ni jerarquizarlas: una forma blanca luminosa, un individuo llamado Sam, una figura encapuchada que se reveló como una estrella de cine famosa, un perrito, el color azul, una mano humana y voces que dicen estar ahí; algunos no la ven separada de sí mismos.

«At this point I must make it clear that a very large number accept their transition without difficulty and are not to be found in Focus 23. This number includes those who have prepared themselves beforehand, or been prepared by others, so that they may easily sever their ties with the Earth Life System, as well as those who are strongly fortified by their beliefs. They move past Focus 23 of their own accord, to Focus 24–26, 27, or beyond» — la aclaración que el propio autor se apura a hacer, y acota el alcance de todo el capítulo: muchísimos hacen la transición sin dificultad y no están en *Focus 23*, sea porque se prepararon o los prepararon, sea porque sus creencias los sostienen.

«The denizens of Focus 23 vary as much as humanity itself. Setting aside those who are known to their “retrievers,” they are reported as originating from anywhere in the world. A few have been “waiting” for two or three centuries or more, but most have left physical existence quite recently, during the last twenty or thirty years. Many of them were victims of accidents or natural or man» — quiénes están ahí y desde cuándo, con la distribución que el programa reporta: de cualquier parte del mundo, unos pocos esperando dos o tres siglos y la mayoría de los últimos veinte o treinta años, y muchos víctimas de accidentes o desastres; la palabra queda partida por el salto de línea.

«made disasters, and sudden deaths figure frequently. For the most part they are ready and willing to leave, although some show concern about loved ones, relatives, or comrades and refuse to depart until they are reunited or reassured» — y con qué disposición están, que es lo que hace excepción a la mecánica del rescate: en general listos y dispuestos a irse, aunque algunos se preocupan por los suyos y se niegan a partir hasta reunirse con ellos o quedar tranquilos.

«Reports by participants of those they have encountered include mentions of several youngsters killed in road accidents, a forty» — cómo empieza la lista de rescatados que el libro imprime, y su factura es de crónica y no de doctrina: varios jóvenes muertos en accidentes de carretera; la edad del siguiente queda partida por el salto de línea.

«old man who choked on food, a classical pianist from Prague who died from AIDS-related complications, a mother and two children from Cambodia who stepped on a mine, a number of babies from the Nigerian province of Biafra who starved to death, a soldier killed in the Gulf War, a stillborn baby from Milwaukee, and a teenage girl who overdosed on pills» — y cómo sigue esa lista, sin ordenarla ni jerarquizarla: un hombre que se atragantó con comida, un pianista clásico de Praga muerto por complicaciones del sida, una madre y dos hijos de Camboya que pisaron una mina, bebés de la provincia nigeriana de Biafra muertos de hambre, un soldado de la Guerra del Golfo, un bebé nacido muerto de Milwaukee y una adolescente por sobredosis.

«In some instances much detailed information is gathered: one participant came across a woman born March 22, 1922, died in Ogden, Utah, March 15, 1972, who gave her own name, her husband’s, and the names of her three children. Another example is the pianist from Prague mentioned above, who disclosed his name and age, twenty-eight, that he lived with his parents, studied at the Conservatoire in Paris» — los datos concretos que algunos rescatados dieron, y son los que el programa manda a verificar: una mujer nacida el 22 de marzo de 1922 y muerta en Ogden, Utah, el 15 de marzo de 1972, con su nombre, el de su marido y los de sus tres hijos, y el pianista de Praga con su nombre, sus veintiocho años y sus estudios.

«A third involves a fifty-seven-year-old female graphic designer (name given) who died in December 1991 of cardiac arrest during bypass surgery at a hospital in Scottsdale, Arizona» — y el tercer caso detallado: una diseñadora gráfica de cincuenta y siete años, con nombre dado, muerta en diciembre de 1991 por paro cardiaco durante una cirugía de derivación en un hospital de Scottsdale, Arizona.

«During the retrieval process participants have no sense of fear and generally are unaffected by emotion. Exceptions to the latter may occur when contact is made with a relative or loved one, or with what the participant realizes is a lost part of himself. The following extract from a report illustrates this» — cómo describe el tono emocional del procedimiento y dónde se rompe: sin miedo y en general sin emoción, salvo al topar con un ser querido o con lo que el participante reconoce como parte perdida de sí mismo.

«During an experience, I found a small boy three years old in a pool of light in Focus 23. There were no other people visible except for this young boy. I felt such emotion, anguish, and pain at seeing this small child. When I went to take him up, my guide told me that all the emotion was not necessary. After the guide and I took the child up, I felt a sense of completion and on some level a sense of homecoming, as if another piece of me was at rest now. When the child was led away by those who would ‘process’ him, I knew he would be cared for and that everything was absolutely as it should be. After the tape experience I felt that things indeed had shifted round. I’m slowly becoming all of who I am» — el testimonio de un participante que el libro firma, y en él la guía corrige la emoción en vez de acompañarla: encuentra a un niño de tres años en un charco de luz, siente angustia, y su guía le dice que tanta emoción no hacía falta; al subirlo siente terminación y una especie de regreso a casa.

«Often it is when the participant returns to normal consciousness at the end of the experience that the emotions flood in. There may be a delayed response to the shock of meeting a loved one whom you might have thought never to have seen again, or to the sadness and desperation of some of those in Focus 23. But as you become more accustomed to the process, the more natural it seems to be. That this young child was killed in a road accident, or that mother died leaving two young children, becomes somehow acceptable, and the reports contain very few references to misery or tragedy. In Focus 27, all will be as it should be, and the only emotion is love» — cuándo llega la emoción y qué le pasa con la práctica, y es una observación que el libro no atenúa: llega al volver a la conciencia normal, y con la costumbre se vuelve aceptable que un niño muriera atropellado o que una madre dejara dos hijos chicos.

«As I had discovered previously, those who had met with disabling accidents or illnesses, who had been injured or maimed in some way, recovered their wholeness when they arrived in Focus 27» — lo que dice ocurrir con los cuerpos dañados, y remite a lo que él mismo había hallado antes: quienes quedaron heridos o mutilados recobran su integridad al llegar a *Focus 27*.

«One report referred to a man whose mother had been prescribed the drug thalidomide during pregnancy and who had been born with» — el caso con que lo ilustra: un hombre cuya madre tomó talidomida durante el embarazo; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«only the vestiges of legs. He had lived for nearly thirty-five years— he was English and the drug had been introduced into England in 1958. In Focus 23 he was still deformed; in 27, where he was welcomed by his mother, he was whole and fit, as he had never been in physical life» — y la diferencia entre los dos niveles, que es el dato: nacido con vestigios de piernas y muerto a los treinta y cinco años, seguía deforme en *Focus 23* y estaba entero y sano en el 27, donde lo recibió su madre. La frase empieza en la plana anterior.

«Not all those who are brought out of Focus 23 do arrive at 27—at least, not immediately. Some move into the Belief System Territories and others may simply disappear. Perhaps they find that their connections with Earth are not yet broken, or that they have not yet reached full acceptance of their state» — lo que el propio autor consigna como falla del procedimiento, con la explicación puesta en condicional: no todos llegan al 27, algunos se van a los Territorios de creencias y otros simplemente desaparecen.

«One participant reported encountering a girl who had died in childbirth. She conveyed to him that her baby had died and she had to stay to take care of it. Another account referred to an African boy aged nine, who starved to death in the desert in October 1990. He would not leave Focus 23 until he had found his three younger brothers and his two-year-old sister, who had predeceased him. On occasions the participant may return and find the reluctant traveler more willing at the second attempt, although this happens rarely» — los dos casos de negativa que reporta, y en ambos el motivo es un lazo pendiente: una muchacha muerta de parto que se queda a cuidar a su bebé muerto, y un niño africano de nueve años, muerto de hambre en el desierto en octubre de 1990, que no se va sin hallar a sus tres hermanos menores y a su hermana de dos años.

«What we could not predict at all was how the participants themselves would react to the Lifeline experience. We felt it was very unlikely that there would be any adverse effects, especially as all participants were well versed in the Institute’s methods, having attended one or usually more courses previously. How they did react is best told in their own words» — lo que dice no haber podido predecir y por qué no lo temía, y de ahí la decisión de forma que ocupa el resto del capítulo: cómo reaccionarían los participantes, cuyas voces prefiere imprimir en lugar de resumirlas.

«The program as presented was excellent for me because I was led to realize how limiting belief systems are and how enclosed we are in them—mostly without our prior conscious knowledge. It has been a week of growth and expanding for me in many areas. The very thin phase between what we know as reality now, here, and there becomes apparent. Life as a whole has begun to take on a different perspective» — el primero de los testimonios firmados, en voz de un participante: dice haber llegado a ver lo limitantes que son los sistemas de creencias y lo encerrados que se está en ellos sin saberlo.

«The most important learning that took place for me in Lifeline was the realization that I see aspects of myself in others, and the acceptance and subsequent embracing of those aspects, both positive and negative, is the retrieval process for me. I feel that» — el segundo, que reinterpreta el rescate en clave psicológica: ver en otros aspectos de uno mismo y aceptarlos, positivos y negativos, es para esa participante el proceso de recuperación; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«the experienced objective reality of the imaginal realm, which I had ‘believed’ was only a metaphor for personal issues in need of integration. The several retrievals were so unexpected and palpable they have forced an opening through experience (I always thought and behaved as if they were real) into other realities. Because this happened in the context of getting my mother into 27 and cutting the shroud-like bonds to her and my belief systems, it has been wonderfully disencumbering and gives me a keen awareness of parallel modes of processing of parallel consciousness. Issues of death and beyond feel very comfortable now» — el tercero, y es el que mejor nombra el cambio de estatuto que el programa produce en quien lo pasa: había creído que el ámbito imaginal era solo metáfora de asuntos personales por integrar, y los rescates le resultaron tan palpables que forzaron una apertura.

«I learned that ‘rescue and retrieval’ is not necessarily about performing a service to others, but rather about performing a service for ourselves, thus performing for others as well» — el cuarto, que invierte el orden del servicio: rescatar no sería tanto un servicio a otros como un servicio a uno mismo, y por eso también a otros.

«Never before had I felt like I had handled my mother’s death. This week has truly freed me from my emotions surrounding this loss and I believe it has freed her» — el quinto, con la doble liberación que la participante consigna y la segunda dicha como creencia: la semana la liberó de sus emociones por esa pérdida, y cree que la liberó a ella.

«A piece of me now exists in Focus 27. There’s no more question in my mind where I will go when I die and what I will be doing the rest of my life» — el sexto, que es el más rotundo de la serie: ya no le queda duda de adónde irá al morir ni de qué hará el resto de su vida.

«The ‘other side,’ as it were, does not have to be perceived as a strange, eerie place beyond imagination, for it is just a phase away. A shift of perception along with a subtle awareness is all that is needed» — el séptimo, que rebaja deliberadamente el tono de lo extraordinario: el otro lado no tiene que percibirse como sitio raro e inquietante, porque está a una fase de distancia.

«I have a new realization of truly being part of a whole.” (K.S.C., Paris, France) “I have learned that we can be of service beyond this reality and in this reality using psychic gifts» — los dos últimos de la serie, firmados desde París y desde Sevilla: sentirse parte de un todo, y poder servir más allá de esta realidad y dentro de ella.

«Perhaps because I believe that one cannot give meaningful guidance without being balanced and whole oneself, I viewed that Lifeline process of retrieval as reuniting with aspects of my Total Self to which, for one reason or another, I had no conscious access. These aspects would include past lives or simply powerful emotional thought forms that were keeping some of my energy blocked and limiting my awareness. The definition of the three levels beyond Focus 21 was highly suitable to this application, whereby Focus 22 and 23 were a reflection of any type of turmoil, Focus 24 and 25 were the source of the belief system or misinformation on which the confusion was based, and then Focus 27 provided the pure clear light of one’s essence. By going to Focus 27 first and reclaiming my own light, I was more able to face my own darkness than ever before. I feel a new sense of completion, peace, and harmony. And maybe next time I’ll resonate in sufficient balance to help others who are lost in chaotic thought forms and darkness» — el testimonio que el libro destaca aparte, y es el de alguien que no rescató a nadie: leyó el proceso como reunión con aspectos de su Yo Total sin acceso consciente, con los niveles de *Focus* como mapa de su propio desorden, y dice que al reclamar su luz en el 27 pudo encarar su oscuridad.

«The Institute has a growing file of participants’ accounts of their retrieval experiences. These are not confined to instances during the programs. Many find that when they return home they are able to continue with the process, usually during sleep. And there are some who were involved in the process before joining the program—and there may be many more who have also been involved but do not remember. These accounts make a fascinating collection, much of it highly poignant and moving. Outside the context of the program itself, many of the reports may seem to stretch into the realms of fantasy. But it is impossible to convince those who experienced these events that they were anything but absolutely real» — qué hace el instituto con esos relatos y cómo el propio autor sitúa su credibilidad, sin resolverla a su favor: fuera del contexto del programa muchos parecerán rozar la fantasía, y a quienes los vivieron es imposible convencerlos de que no fueron absolutamente reales.

«The following extract from the files comes from a participant in one of the earliest programs: “I picked up my helper in Focus 27 and went to 23 to wait. Just when I was about to give up finding anyone, a little Irish lady» — cómo abre el primero de los tres relatos de archivo que el capítulo transcribe: el participante recoge a su ayudante en *Focus 27* y espera en el 23 hasta casi darse por vencido; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«looked up at me and said, ‘Wait … wait! Don’t you go back without me!’ She immediately jumped into my vehicle (a double pyramid emerald) and talked all the way to 27» — y quién aparece entonces, con el vehículo puesto por el propio participante: una viejita irlandesa que le pide que no se vaya sin ella y se sube a una doble pirámide de esmeralda.

«When we arrived and stepped out into the Park she told me her name was Elizabeth McGowan (or McCowan). She was well aware that her physical life was over and she had been waiting for me to take her to her husband and daughter, who were already in 27 to meet her when she arrived. She said she was from County Cork, and corrected me when I referred to it as Cork County. Her death occurred in 1919» — los datos que la mujer da de sí misma, y el detalle que el participante consigna como prueba de carácter: el nombre, con la grafía dudosa anotada por él mismo, que era del condado de Cork y que lo corrigió cuando él invirtió el nombre, y que llevaba esperando a que la llevaran con su marido y su hija.

«and she had been a seamstress. Her husband was Richard and her daughter, who appeared to be about thirteen, was Amy. Before I could find out any more, they all disappeared» — el resto de esos datos y cómo se corta el intercambio: costurera, su marido Richard, su hija Amy de unos trece años, y desaparecieron los tres antes de que pudiera averiguar más. La frase empieza del otro lado del corte de bloque, en esta misma plana.

«I was trying to decide what to do next when my father appeared. This was unexpected and very emotional for me, as he and I had not resolved a lot of issues when he died in 1985. He had spent eight years drinking heavily after my mother died. I tried to support him as best I could for five years, but felt he was going to destroy me. I had no contact with him for the last three years of his life» — el segundo encuentro del mismo relato, con la historia familiar dicha sin adorno: un padre muerto en 1985 tras ocho años de beber en exceso desde la muerte de la madre, al que el participante dejó de ver los últimos tres años por sentir que lo destruía.

«When he appeared I went through a range of emotions, the strongest being love, guilt, and sadness that I could not stay with him. He did, however, give me a gift. When I asked if we could stay together, he replied, ‘I love you, but you need to remember why you came here, and never forget your focus» — qué le dice ese padre cuando el participante le pide quedarse juntos, y es lo único que se transcribe de su voz: que lo quiere, pero que recuerde a qué vino y no olvide su foco.

«At this point, Bob told us to leave 27. I left with very mixed emotions, but realized that my father had given me forgiveness, freedom, and love. What more could I ask for» — cómo termina esa sesión —el propio Monroe manda salir de *Focus 27*— y qué se lleva el participante: perdón, libertad y amor de parte del padre.

«Another file report demonstrates a fascinating connection between events in Focus 23–27 and an episode in the participant’s earlier life when he was a hospital intern» — cómo presenta el segundo relato, anunciando de antemano la conexión que lo hace valer: entre lo ocurrido en *Focus 23–27* y un episodio de la vida anterior del participante como interno de hospital.

«In my first attempt at retrieving I met a little girl at Focus 23 who was about eleven years old. She said she had recently died of leukemia at a hospital in Ohio. I explained to her that I was there to help her in her transition to another level. She seemed to understand and trust me, and she stretched out her arms to reach toward me. I did the same, and as we hugged I suddenly» — la escena que el participante relata: una niña de unos once años que dice haber muerto de leucemia en un hospital de Ohio, a la que él explica que viene a ayudarla en su transición; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«experienced an overwhelming feeling of love that engulfed my whole body. It was a feeling I have experienced only a few treasured times in my life» — y qué siente al abrazarla, medido contra su propia vida: una sensación de amor que dice haber sentido pocas veces. La frase empieza en la plana anterior.

«I never checked to see if the name and address she gave me were real. The experience was real and meaningful beyond measure. I understood shortly thereafter that I had been given the opportunity to complete an episode in my life which had been unresolved for twenty-five years» — lo que el propio participante declara no haber hecho, y el libro lo imprime sin corregirlo: nunca comprobó si el nombre y la dirección eran reales, porque la experiencia le bastaba.

«It began when I was a medical student. I had befriended a little girl with leukemia. She was in and out of the hospital repeatedly during the three years I knew her. “At the end of one very busy Sunday afternoon during my pediatric internship, I was writing orders in charts when she came in and asked if she could talk to me. I told her I couldn’t at the moment because I was busy, but maybe later. She went back to her room alone» — el episodio antiguo que ese rescate le devuelve: una niña con leucemia a la que conoció tres años, que un domingo ocupado de su internado en pediatría fue a pedirle hablar y a la que dijo que después, tal vez.

«But she could not wait for me. Shortly thereafter, one of the nurses came to tell me that the little girl had been found lying in her bed in her room. She was dead. Had I taken just a few moments, I could have helped her in the transition that she knew was coming. “Finally, twenty-five years later, I was given another opportunity» — y cómo terminó aquello, con el reproche que el participante se hace y que da sentido al relato entero: la niña murió sola poco después, y con unos minutos él habría podido ayudarla en la transición que ella sabía que venía.

«The next report is taken from the transcript of a tape made not in the Lifeline course itself but during a laboratory session» — la procedencia del tercer relato, que el libro distingue de los otros dos: transcripción de una cinta hecha en sesión de laboratorio y no en el curso.

«It’s nighttime and I’m in a boat, approaching a rocky coast—it might be the west coast of Ireland, or Cornwall. The rocks are tall and upright, with water slapping against them. I might be just above the boat. Ahead there is a cleft or shaft in the rocks. I’m going into this—I’m not afraid. The walls are black with wetness shining on them. I’m turning into a tunnel or narrow cave … now I’m in a cave … there’s light reflected off the rocks so that I can» — cómo transcurre esa transcripción, en presente y con la localización dejada en duda por la propia participante: una costa rocosa que podría ser el oeste de Irlanda o Cornualles, una hendidura en la roca, un túnel y una cueva; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«see … I’m going down—there’s a fissure in the roof above … There’s the little dog that I’ve seen before» — y qué aparece ahí, que enlaza con la lista de formas de la guía del capítulo: el perrito que ya había visto antes. La frase empieza en la plana anterior.

«Now I’m being shown what it’s like to have the weight of a rock on my chest—it doesn’t hurt but it’s as though a big piece of rock is lying across me. It’s showing me what someone would experience if a mine shaft or something like that collapsed on them … “Energy is pouring in … I must relax … I’m being shown what it’s like to be trapped in a confined space deep inside a rock formation» — qué se le muestra antes de encontrar a nadie, y es una comunicación por sensación y no por palabras: el peso de una roca sobre el pecho, lo que sentiría alguien sepultado por el derrumbe de un tiro de mina.

«It feels as if someone is holding my left hand … there may be somebody there, if I can reach him … Yes, his name is Gregory—he’s coming loose from a place he’s been stuck in, low down to my left in the rocks. He’s sliding out—he’s very relieved to come out. He didn’t think that anyone would find him» — a quién encuentra ahí y cómo: alguien que le sostiene la mano izquierda, que sale de un sitio donde estaba atorado entre las rocas, se llama Gregory y no creía que nadie lo hallara.

«I feel he was climbing on the rocks and the tide came in. He found the opening, like I did, and went down. I feel that because I was shown the compression of rock—the weight—that there must have been a rockfall and he was trapped» — cómo reconstruye la participante lo que le pasó, y marca cada paso como inferencia suya: habría estado trepando, subió la marea, entró por la abertura y quedó atrapado por un derrumbe.

«He’s still holding my hand. I’m trying to find out … Black—is that his surname? He wants a hug—he’s been there a long time … since 1948» — los datos que alcanza a sacarle, y los dos van con duda: un apellido que pregunta sin confirmar, y que llevaba ahí desde 1948.

«What shall I do? Take him to the Center? But how do I know …? Fix the idea of the Center in my mind, extend for it. He’ll be comfortable there and looked after—he understands. “He’s leading me now. He knows where to go. I tell him I love him and he’s free to go … he’s moving away now» — cómo procede sin estar segura, y el método es el que enseña el programa: fija en la mente la idea del Centro y se extiende hacia él, y al final es Gregory quien la guía porque sabe adónde ir.

«I’m being taken to a more comfortable place … It’s strange—when I asked to be moved after Gregory had left I picked up on the fear he’d experienced when he entered the cave … when he died. It was as though his fear had permeated the rocks, and after he left the fear left also—I felt it brush past me, as if I were in its slipstream» — lo que la participante consigna al final, y es la observación más rara de las tres: al pedir que la movieran captó el miedo que él había sentido al entrar en la cueva, como si ese miedo hubiera permeado la roca y se hubiera ido con él.

«The Variable, my wife Nancy’s illness, seemed under control for the moment. It had indeed forced a new direction, the beginning of a close understanding of the effect of perhaps the greatest Variable each human mind-consciousness must face—the transition from physical life to another energy system we label death. It was astounding that I had passed over it so casually» — cómo nombra la enfermedad de su esposa con el término del primer capítulo, y qué le atribuye: la Variable que forzó la nueva dirección, el paso de la vida física a otro sistema de energía que llamamos muerte, por el que dice haber pasado antes con demasiada ligereza.

«I wonder about the Signal that I may have brought back with me from my exploration. If it is there, I cannot perceive any result. Did the thousands of human I-There units bonded to our cluster receive the Signal? I am sure some in my own I-There will know. At least it will be fun playing the INSPEC role» — la abstención con que despacha el gran encargo del libro, y conviene retenerla porque desactiva cualquier lectura triunfal: no sabe si trajo la Señal, y si está ahí no percibe resultado alguno.

«It was the end of hospital visiting hours. In Nancy’s room, I bent over and kissed her forehead. “Are you sleepy?” “Mmmmmm.” “You look better tonight.” “Mmmmm. I’m fine.” “Want to go play later?” “In, in 27?” “For starters» — la última conversación con Nancy que el libro transcribe, y el vocabulario del programa aparece ahí como cosa doméstica: le pregunta si quiere ir a jugar más tarde y ella pregunta si en el 27; el intercambio termina en la plana siguiente.

«At around eight in the evening, we received an urgent call from the hospital, and were at her bedside by nine. It had been extremely devastating for me to visit her in the hospital before this for several reasons. Now it was different. Her arms and hands were limp and cold, and she was breathing in short, deep gasps followed by a long pause. But it was looking into her unblinking eyes that told me. Nancy was no longer there. At twelve-fifteen in the morning, her body finally stopped breathing» — cómo cuenta la muerte, con la hora y el signo por el que lo supo: los brazos fríos, la respiración entrecortada, y sobre todo los ojos sin parpadear que le dijeron que Nancy ya no estaba.

«Later, the Lifeline team reported they had taken her to 27 sometime between seven-thirty and eight, and that she was safe and warmly greeted there. This was approximately the time the hospital noted the beginning of her terminal breathing» — el cotejo de horarios que el libro presenta como corroboración del programa: el equipo de Lifeline reportó haberla llevado al 27 entre las siete y media y las ocho, hora aproximada en que el hospital anotó el inicio de la respiración terminal.

«It was later that I realized such breathing was familiar to me. It was the same breathing that I heard when the old man was dying in the St. Louis flophouse back when I was a vagrant teenager. The same breathing I heard when my favorite cabin cat Fusby died of leukemia while lying in my arms, three days before Nancy’s exit» — con qué enlaza esa respiración en su memoria, y los dos términos del enlace son de este mismo libro: el viejo que murió en el asilo de San Luis cuando él era un adolescente vagabundo, y su gata Fusby, muerta de leucemia en sus brazos tres días antes.

«I was shocked how unprepared I truly was. The biggest glitch/ Variable in my life, I saw it coming, plenty of portents, all the backup experience, and still» — lo que reconoce de sí mismo, y es lo que impide leer el libro como manual eficaz: lo vio venir, hubo presagios de sobra y tenía toda la experiencia detrás, y aun así estaba sin preparar.

«Hundreds, no, thousands knew/know her for the bright, warm and joyful personality that she was/is. Nancy Penn Monroe. Her ancestry went back to a Virginia family in the years before the American Revolution, living on land granted to them by the King of England» — cómo la presenta, y conviene notar la doble forma verbal que el capítulo sostiene todo el tiempo —conocieron y conocen, era y es—: Nancy Penn Monroe, de una familia de Virginia anterior a la Revolución.

«Her upbringing led her to live the life of a Southern Lady in its most gracious form: always thinking of others first» — cómo describe su crianza y su carácter, en los términos de su medio: la vida de una dama sureña en su forma más gentil, pensando siempre primero en los demás; la enumeración sigue en la plana siguiente.

«any form, always giving of herself. There never was/is any hate in her for anyone» — y cómo cierra ese retrato, con la doble forma verbal que el capítulo sostiene todo el tiempo: nunca hubo ni hay odio en ella para nadie. La enumeración empieza en la plana anterior.

«In reality, she truly was/is the co-founder of The Monroe Institute. Were it not for her, there probably would not have been any such organization. She participated in all major and minor discussions and decisions, activities, and even research. Thus her thoughts are sprinkled through everything that the Institute has produced and represents—the programs, the tapes, the public policy, and certainly the many friends worldwide» — qué papel le adjudica en el instituto, y es una atribución que corrige el registro público: sin ella probablemente no habría existido la organización, y su pensamiento está repartido en todo lo que el instituto produce.

«We had known each other in a casual social manner for seven years, and had been married for twenty-three. Even before we met, Nancy had a deep interest in the paranormal. She also had been a schoolteacher, music and piano teacher, an interior decorator, real estate manager, and was raising four children. She had commenced writing on two books, one a modern version of Scarlett O’Hara, the other a post-physical story about “The City Not Made with Hands.” Both remain unfinished, in spite of a waiting typewriter and word processor. She didn’t have time» — los datos de su vida y los dos libros que dejó sin terminar: maestra de escuela, de música y de piano, decoradora de interiores, administradora de bienes raíces y madre de cuatro hijos, con una versión moderna de Scarlett O’Hara y una historia posfísica sobre la ciudad no hecha con manos.

«It is impossible to be at the Institute without encountering the result of her thoughts. As you enter, the bushes and flowers around the gatehouse are her selection. The interior design of the building itself is her adaptation of a plan started by others. As you start up the hill, the tall row of trees on the right is there because of her idea. At the Center itself, all of the trees and shrubbery were selected and placed by her. Inside all three buildings, most of what you see is Nancy Penn Monroe. The carpets, the walls, the fixtures, the tables and chairs, the plates, the silverware, the mugs, even the napkins» — el inventario con que documenta esa presencia, y la enumeración es deliberadamente material: los arbustos y flores de la caseta, el diseño interior, la hilera de árboles de la subida, las alfombras, los muros, las mesas, los platos, los cubiertos, las tazas y hasta las servilletas.

«So now the main building has a new name: The Nancy Penn Center. She was too self-effacing to permit it before this moment» — el cambio de nombre del edificio principal y por qué no se hizo antes: ella era demasiado modesta para permitirlo.

«To make a very long story very short, when she developed breast cancer, Nancy accepted the orthodox route for treatment. This meant surgery to remove the tumor and a number of lymph nodes, chemotherapy, and radiation. Each slowed up the process but no more» — qué tratamiento siguió Nancy y con qué resultado, y el dato importa porque el libro no propone ninguna alternativa: la vía ortodoxa, con cirugía, quimioterapia y radiación, que retrasaron el proceso y nada más.

«Two nights after her departure, I thought I had cooled down enough to attempt to visit her. Which I did. The result was an emotional explosion that included every nuance existing between two humans deeply in love, all up-front and simultaneous, without the limitations of time and physical matter. It was a great effort to return, and it took days to recover» — qué le pasó al intentar visitarla, y es lo contrario de lo que su propio programa promete: una explosión emocional con todos los matices posibles entre dos personas enamoradas, sin los límites del tiempo ni de la materia, y días para recuperarse.

«A second attempt a week later brought the same result. It was simply too much to handle. Until I learned more, I had to put up a shield that restricts any kind of nonphysical activity on my part. No more Interstate pro tem or contacts with friends in that area. Only the I-There of me. I begin to drift in Nancy’s direction even in the deepest sleep, so the barrier had to include this state too. Thus my rest is greatly impaired» — la decisión que toma tras el segundo intento, y es la más fuerte del capítulo porque suspende su propia práctica: levantar un escudo que le restringe toda actividad no física, hasta en el sueño más profundo, con el descanso muy dañado.

«I now have a new challenge, a massive adjustment to make. One I hadn’t considered. A very new direction. Can I live in two worlds at the same time? With Nancy in 27, and Here with our lonely fur family—seven cats and two dogs—in a lonely house? I don’t know» — cómo cierra su propia voz el capítulo, con la pregunta sin contestar: si puede vivir en dos mundos a la vez, con Nancy en el 27 y él aquí con siete gatos y dos perros en una casa sola.

«Once the transition is made, only the heavily addicted remain closely attached to the physical life they have just departed, according to your data and others. For most, the resonance/ interest/attachment begins to fade almost immediately, some slowly, some rapidly. But it does. All of your data show this, except for the rare “ghost” application. Even with your Big L as binding as it is» — qué le responde a eso una voz de su *I-There*, apoyándose en los datos del propio programa: tras la transición solo los muy adictos siguen atados a la vida recién dejada, y para casi todos el interés se desvanece pronto, salvo la rara aplicación del fantasma.

«How long will your Silver Queen lady remain in and around your» — la pregunta que más le importa a él, planteada por la propia voz de su *I-There*: cuánto tiempo se quedará ella por su *Focus 27*; la respuesta viene en la plana siguiente.

«Focus 27? You don’t know and we don’t know. Like all of the others, she is exposed to attractive freedoms you of all humans are very aware of. But you can’t leave here. Not at this time; you have too many things to complete» — y la abstención con que esa voz la contesta, sin consolarlo: no lo saben ni él ni ellos, porque ella está expuesta a libertades atractivas que él conoce mejor que nadie; y él no puede irse todavía porque le quedan demasiadas cosas por terminar. La pregunta empieza en la plana anterior.

«And don’t forget: at the very least, you know that your Silver Queen will be with you at final departure when we wink out in the thirty» — con qué remata la voz el cuerpo del libro, y es lo único que le concede por cierto: que ella estará con él en la partida final; la cifra del siglo queda partida por el salto de plana.

«fifth century. What more do you want» — y la línea con que se cierra el cuerpo del libro, que es una pregunta y no una promesa. La cifra del siglo empieza en la plana anterior.

«Animal Sub-Self All human communication, inward and out, is filtered and distorted by the predator and physical survival drives, which I think of as ASS—Animal Sub-Self—brought about by existence in the Earth Life System» — la definición de glosario del *Animal Sub-Self*, con el acrónimo que el propio autor eligió: toda comunicación humana, hacia dentro y hacia fuera, pasa filtrada y distorsionada por los impulsos de depredación y supervivencia física.

«Aperture Entry point into the beyond, the source of the creative force that organized our physical universe» — la definición de la Apertura: punto de entrada al más allá y fuente de la fuerza creativa que organizó el universo físico.

«Baseline The operating level of the mind at any point of growth according to active Knowns, Unknowns, and Beliefs contained therein» — la definición de línea base, que es lo que el libro llama medir dónde está uno: el nivel operativo de la mente en un punto dado de crecimiento, según los *Knowns*, *Unknowns* y creencias que contenga.

«Basic In developing a Different Overview, the knowledge and application of certain Basics are essential. A key Basic, for instance, would be the knowledge that you are more than your physical body and that you do survive physical death. Such Basics must be absolute Knowns, not just beliefs, to complete the growth. If one or more of the key Basics is missing, the development is inhibited» — la definición del *Basic*, con su ejemplo y su condición: saber que uno es más que su cuerpo y que sobrevive a la muerte física, y ese saber tiene que ser un *Known* absoluto y no una creencia, o el desarrollo queda inhibido.

«Belief A mental-emotional mind-set containing a mixture of Knowns and Unknowns in various percentiles. Belief system A belief that is prevalent in more than one human. The greater the number holding to a belief, the more powerful the system» — las definiciones de creencia y de sistema de creencias, y la segunda mide por número: una disposición mental y emocional con mezcla de conocido y desconocido en distintas proporciones, y un sistema es tanto más poderoso cuantos más lo sostienen.

«Belief System Territories Parts of the (M) Field spectrum adjacent to the Earth Life System where many Human Minds reside after completing physical life experiences. Each is attracted to a particular segment in accordance with a deep attachment made during the life just finished to a seemingly powerful belief» — la definición de los *Belief System Territories*, con el criterio de reparto: partes del espectro del campo (M) contiguas al sistema de vida terrestre donde residen muchas mentes humanas tras la vida física, cada una atraída al segmento de la creencia a la que se apegó.

«Beyond Indefinable in current human thought» — la entrada más corta del glosario, y es una abstención puesta como definición: el más allá es indefinible en el pensamiento humano actual.

«Core Self The original (M) Field energy vortex of each living physical being» — la definición del *Core Self* en términos del campo: el vórtice original de energía del campo (M) de cada ser físico vivo.

«Different Overview The gathering of knowledge minus the glitter of beliefs and animal commands» — la definición del *Different Overview*, por sustracción: reunir conocimiento quitándole el brillo de las creencias y los mandatos animales.

«Emitter The opening in the beyond, through which (M) Field energy radiates that organized and operates our Earth Life System and the physical universe» — la definición del Emisor, distinguido de la Apertura: la abertura en el más allá por la que irradia la energía del campo (M) que organizó y opera el sistema de vida terrestre y el universo físico.

«EXCOM The Executive Committee of our I-There (IT), emerging from the many life personalities that each of us contain» — la definición del EXCOM: el comité ejecutivo del *I-There*, surgido de las muchas personalidades de vida que cada quien contiene.

«H Band The wave of disorganized human thought modulation of (M) Field energy» — la definición de la banda H, ya en términos del campo: la onda de modulación desorganizada del pensamiento humano sobre la energía del campo (M).

«Hemi-Sync The trade name for an audio wave system developed by The Monroe Institute over the past thirty years. Listening to these wave systems on tape helps bring synchronization of electrical brain wave forms between the two hemispheres of the human brain. Specific sound patterns help the listener achieve various states of consciousness that may be desired» — la definición del Hemi-Sync, y conviene el término con que el glosario la abre: es un nombre comercial, de un sistema de ondas de audio que ayuda a sincronizar las formas de onda eléctricas entre los dos hemisferios.

«Hologram These are commonly products of intersecting light rays which form a visible image in an empty area. The theory put forth herein is that (M) Field energy may be performing the same process in a far more sophisticated manner to create time-space and our Earth Life System» — la definición del holograma, y el glosario la marca como teoría y no como hecho: la energía del campo (M) estaría haciendo, de manera mucho más sofisticada, lo mismo que hacen los rayos de luz que se cruzan, para crear el tiempo-espacio y el sistema de vida terrestre.

«Human Mind What we are, individually and collectively. INSPEC Acronym for Intelligent Species, one presumed greater than the human version» — las definiciones de mente humana e INSPEC, y la segunda lleva la presunción dentro: acrónimo de *Intelligent Species*, presumiblemente mayor que la versión humana.

«Interstate A play on a familiar term in the American road system. Here it is used to indicate a route to follow from one stage of consciousness to another, both within time-space and along the seemingly endless energy spectrum of the (M) Field» — la definición de la Interestatal, con el origen del término declarado: un juego con el nombre del sistema carretero estadounidense, usado aquí para una ruta de un estado de conciencia a otro.

«IT The I-There that each of us has, containing all previous and present life personalities» — la definición de IT en el glosario, que es la abreviatura con que el libro nombra al *I-There*: contiene todas las personalidades de vida previas y presentes.

«Known What has become an absolute fact to an individual, but not necessarily to the culture. Generally speaking, it should take at least three or more verifications to produce a Known. When this testing is completed, the Known can be added into Overview thinking» — la definición de *Known*, con el criterio de prueba que el libro fija aquí y en ningún otro lado: hecho absoluto para un individuo aunque no para su cultura, y en general hacen falta al menos tres verificaciones.

«KT-95 Arbitrary label given by the writer to his original Home outside our solar system» — la definición de KT-95, y el propio glosario la marca como rótulo arbitrario del autor para su *Home* original fuera del sistema solar.

«Last Timer ring Located in the outermost area of human influence in the (M) Field, it is here that many who have experienced numerous Earth life sojourns retire momentarily. Knowing they have decided to take only one more run as a human, and with the broad life experience they have in their possession, each enters a moment of contemplation. Each then decides what and when that final Earth life will be» — la definición del anillo de los últimos, que es una pieza que el relato solo menciona al pasar: en la zona más externa de influencia humana en el campo, quienes han decidido hacer una sola vida humana más se detienen a contemplar y a decidir cuál y cuándo será.

«Left brain Current cultural designation of the intellectual, logical, and rational segment of our conventional thought processes. LIFE In the context used herein rather than the Webster definition: Layered Intelligence-Forming Energy» — las definiciones de hemisferio izquierdo y de *LIFE*, y de la segunda el glosario avisa que no es la del diccionario: Layered Intelligence-Forming Energy.

«(M) Field Nonphysical energy field that permeates time-space including our Earth Life System, but is not a part of current human scientific knowledge or study» — la definición del campo (M), con el deslinde respecto de la ciencia puesto en la propia entrada: campo de energía no física que permea el tiempo-espacio y no forma parte del conocimiento científico actual.

«New direction This indicated that the writer-explorer would be active in an entirely different area, one that was essential but ignored. The discovery of the IT (I-There) was the Basic, the penetration to the edge of the beyond was the fulfillment, both new and unexpected» — cómo el glosario resume el argumento del libro entero en una entrada: el descubrimiento del *IT* fue el *Basic*, y la penetración hasta el borde del más allá fue el cumplimiento.

«Nonhuman Intelligences That they do exist is a Known to the writer. How many there are, no one knows. How many different species there are, no one really knows. Some apparently are from the same galaxy as we are. Others seem to be from other energy systems and times. There are even those that suggest the possibility that they once were human. All have certain elements in common» — la entrada sobre las inteligencias no humanas, y sobre lo único que el autor no duda es sobre su existencia: cuántas hay y cuántas especies son, nadie lo sabe, y hay quienes sugieren que alguna vez fueron humanas.

«they know far more about (M) Field energy than we do, they have scarcely any interest in who and what we are, and finally, communication with them is almost an impossibility because we don’t understand their methods of doing so» — los tres rasgos que sí les atribuye en común, y ninguno halaga al lector: saben mucho más del campo (M), apenas les interesa quiénes y qué somos, y comunicarse con ellas es casi imposible porque no entendemos sus métodos. La entrada empieza en la plana anterior.

«Phasing A method of measuring the percentile of the Human Mind directly involved in physical matter at any point of mental/physical activity. The purpose is to demonstrate the flickering of our consciousness between Here and There with very little awareness and control on our part» — la definición del faseo, que es una medida y no un estado: el porcentaje de la mente humana implicado en la materia física en un momento dado, para mostrar el parpadeo de la conciencia entre el aquí y el allá.

«Quick-switch A faster method of moving human consciousness from one location to another without time-space limitations. Take your consciousness and stretch it like a rubber band to your destination: then let go of it where you are and you snap to a new site. This must begin in a state of consciousness focused away from the physical body, and it does take practice» — la definición del *quick-switch*, con instrucción de uso y su condición: estirar la conciencia como una liga hasta el destino y soltarla donde uno está, empezando siempre desde un estado enfocado fuera del cuerpo físico y con práctica.

«Right brain That portion of our mind-consciousness that emanates from our Core Self which was present when we began the human experience» — la definición de hemisferio derecho, que lo hace anterior a lo humano: la porción de conciencia que emana del *Core Self* y que ya estaba al empezar la experiencia humana.

«ROTE Acronym for Related Organized Thought Energy, transmitted from one mind to another. A mental book or recording, complete with emotional and sensory patterns» — la definición del *ROTE*, con la comparación que da su alcance: un libro o una grabación mental transmitida de una mente a otra, con patrones emocionales y sensoriales incluidos.

«There The (M) Field energy spectrum in nonphysical form separate from time-space» — la definición del *There*, ya sin metáfora de lugar: el espectro de energía del campo (M) en forma no física, separado del tiempo-espacio.

«Time-space No change in the standard meaning, i.e., our physical universe. However, it may help to illustrate how very small our domain is relative to the great mass of energy systems that do not fit this category» — la definición de tiempo-espacio, que no cambia el sentido corriente y solo lo relativiza: nuestro universo físico, con la aclaración de lo pequeño que es su dominio frente a la masa de sistemas de energía que no caben ahí.

«Unknown That of which nothing is really known: the ultimate in this category is a phenomenon that has no historical data, and is not repeated or repeatable. All fear is generated by Unknowns» — la definición de *Unknown* y la tesis del primer capítulo repetida como entrada de glosario: lo máximo en esa categoría es un fenómeno sin datos históricos, que no se repite ni es repetible, y todo miedo lo generan los *Unknowns*.

«Uplink The means by which an information source transmits to a receiver which either stores or utilizes the data provided. A system in common practice in our cultural communication network. In this context, it is the nonconscious and constant transfer of life experience from the physical organism into the memory bank of our I-There (IT)» — la definición del enlace ascendente, con el préstamo técnico declarado: la transferencia no consciente y constante de la experiencia de vida del organismo físico al banco de memoria del *I-There*.

«Variable As utilized in Ultimate Journey, it is a change that occurs in an individual life experience that was not planned or necessarily foreseen. In many cases, such a change may pass unnoticed until the effects thereof accumulate to massive proportions and force a response. Immediate and strong Variables that force attention and action might be labeled by some as glitches, caused by good or bad luck or simply fate. Examples: reading a book that changes your life; winning a major lottery; a career change; moving to a different area» — la definición de Variable, con ejemplos deliberadamente banales: un cambio no planeado ni previsto en una vida, que puede pasar inadvertido hasta acumularse, y que algunos llamarían un contratiempo o simple suerte —leer un libro que le cambia a uno la vida, ganarse la lotería, cambiar de carrera, mudarse—.

«The Monroe Institute had its origin in the Research and Development Division of a family-owned corporation whose specialty was the production of radio network programs. In the mid-1950s we had begun investigating methods of accelerated learning during sleep through the use of sound patterns. By 1968 we had developed means by which sound could be used not only to keep the mind awake and concentrating but also to induce sleep» — la versión que el apéndice da del origen del instituto, con las fechas que el cuerpo del libro no precisa: una división de investigación de una empresa familiar de programas de radio, que a mediados de los cincuenta ya investigaba aprendizaje acelerado durante el sueño mediante patrones de sonido.

«Then a discovery in that year changed the entire direction of investigation: that certain patterns of sound will induce distinct states of consciousness not ordinarily available to the human mind» — el hallazgo fundacional fechado aquí en 1968, con una discrepancia que conviene retener: el capítulo ocho lo sitúa en 1958, el mismo año de sus primeras salidas del cuerpo, y este apéndice lo pone diez años después.

«In 1971 The Monroe Institute was created out of the R & D Division to supplement the research effort. In 1976 the Esalen organization invited the Institute to run a workshop demonstrating its methodology at Big Sur, California. Other workshops followed, and an Educational Division was created to develop and administer learning programs. In 1979 the Institute moved to its present premises in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, Virginia» — la cronología institucional: creado en 1971 desde la división de investigación, invitado por Esalen en 1976 a dar un taller en Big Sur, con una división educativa propia después, y mudado en 1979 a las estribaciones de las Blue Ridge en Virginia.

«Here a residential center (now known as the Nancy Penn Center), research laboratory, lecture hall, and seminar rooms were designed specifically to enhance the unique learning process that had been developed» — qué se construyó ahí y con qué propósito declarado: un centro residencial —ahora Nancy Penn Center—, laboratorio, sala de conferencias y salones diseñados para el proceso de aprendizaje propio.

«In-home study courses are also available, using training manuals and albums of audiotapes and compact discs» — la última vía de difusión que el apéndice enumera: cursos de estudio en casa con manuales y álbumes de casetes y discos compactos.

«This six-day program is a step-by-step absorption of phase-shifting» — cómo define el apéndice al Gateway Voyage: seis días de absorción paso a paso de métodos de cambio de fase; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«methods related to human consciousness. The purpose is, in the first instance, to help the participant release inherent fears through exploration of self and environment by converting Unknowns into Knowns. Once this is achieved, the student is free to evoke controlled phase shifts into other states of consciousness among other nonphysical energy systems» — y en qué orden opera, que es lo que el apéndice subraya: primero soltar los miedos inherentes convirtiendo *Unknowns* en *Knowns*, y solo logrado eso queda uno libre de provocar cambios de fase controlados. La frase empieza en la plana anterior.

«Focus 10. The first step in separation of human mind-consciousness from physical matter reality. A simplistic definition is “mind awake and alert, body asleep.” The mind is slightly out-of-phase with normal physical wakefulness. It is a stage where all five physical senses seem detuned or reduced in strength and is the beginning of objective perception in (M) Field energy» — la definición de *Focus 10* en el apéndice, más técnica que la del capítulo dieciocho: mente despierta y alerta con el cuerpo dormido, los cinco sentidos como desafinados, y el comienzo de la percepción objetiva en la energía del campo (M).

«Perhaps the first major discovery in Focus 10 is that human mind-consciousness can operate, think, reason, “feel” without the strong physical sensory input signals previously deemed necessary. Hence a new kind of freedom is born. The key implication is that one is indeed “more” than the physical body, that one can exist with or without it» — qué se descubre ahí, según el apéndice, y es la fórmula que atraviesa los tres volúmenes: que la conciencia opera, piensa, razona y siente sin la entrada sensorial física que se creía necesaria, de donde se sigue que uno es más que el cuerpo.

«Focus 12. This may be loosely identified as a state of expanded awareness. Induced by additional sound patterns, Focus 12 is a phase state with still less attention to the physical body and more movement into (M) Field energy. With the continued lessening of physical sensory input, perception of (M) Field patterns becomes progressively clearer» — la definición de *Focus 12*, y el apéndice la da como identificación laxa: estado de conciencia expandida, inducido por patrones de sonido adicionales, con menos atención al cuerpo y más movimiento en el campo (M).

«It is not unfamiliar territory. In physical waking consciousness, the overwhelming sensory input from the physical body covers over most, if not all, of such perception. The only penetration usually occurs during sleep or other states where human physical consciousness has been abandoned. The difference in Focus 12 lies in the fact that physical consciousness remains active and alert, under your own control» — qué distingue a ese estado de los conocidos, y es la única diferencia que reclama: no es territorio nuevo, porque en vigilia la entrada sensorial tapa esa percepción y solo se cuela durante el sueño; lo distinto es que ahí la conciencia física sigue activa y bajo control propio.

«In early exploration, colors, shapes, mental pictures both still and moving may appear—the stuff that dreams are made of. As the mind takes charge and begins to learn the (M) Field language, as it were, an entirely new vista is opened, waiting to be experienced and assessed. Unknowns become Knowns at a rapid rate in this new context» — qué aparece al principio, con la cita shakespeariana que el apéndice desliza sin atribuirla: colores, formas e imágenes mentales, la materia de la que están hechos los sueños.

«Focus 15. This marks another step in the phase relationship, with a smaller percentage of attention in physical matter and more in the (M) Field. The concept, or illusion, of time is dropped from the pattern; thus Focus 15 may be identified as a state of “no time.”» — la definición de *Focus 15*, con el término del tiempo puesto en duda por el propio apéndice: se cae del patrón el concepto, o la ilusión, del tiempo.

«Focus 21. This state is the equivalent of deep (delta) sleep in ordinary physical life activity. However, the mind is fully “awake” and conscious, directing the action. Focus 21 seems to be the maximum range of comfortable phase relationship between time-space and (M) Field participation, the “edge” as it were» — la definición de *Focus 21*, con la equivalencia fisiológica declarada: el equivalente del sueño profundo delta, con la mente despierta y dirigiendo, y el máximo alcance cómodo de relación de fase entre el tiempo-espacio y el campo (M).

«From Focus 21 it may be possible to verify individually at a personal level the contents and concepts included in this volume» — lo que el apéndice ofrece desde ahí, y va en potencial: que se pueda verificar a nivel personal el contenido y los conceptos de este mismo volumen.

«A week-long intensive course where the exploration of self is the major thrust. It is a turning inward to meet, know, and understand the relationship between the conscious I and the Core Self (the “Inner Self Helper”), and the many personalities that compose the single individual. Learning exercises are included for controlled out» — qué es el programa Guidelines, y el término entre paréntesis lo toma prestado de otro vocabulario: una semana intensiva de exploración de sí, para conocer la relación entre el yo consciente y el *Core Self*, al que llama ahí Ayudante del Yo Interior.

«For graduates of Lifeline, Exploration 27 offers a systematic series of planned visits to Focus 27 in order to obtain information, data, and direct experience beyond what is explored in the Lifeline program. Participants also learn to access new states of consciousness (Focus 34/35), identified as the area of the» — qué es Exploration 27 y hasta dónde llega: visitas planeadas a *Focus 27* para obtener información y experiencia directa más allá de lo que explora Lifeline, con acceso a nuevos estados; el nombre de esa zona sigue en la plana siguiente.

«“Gathering” in Monroe’s Far Journeys» — y cómo se nombra esa zona, con la remisión explícita al segundo volumen de la trilogía: la Reunión de *Far Journeys*. La frase empieza en la plana anterior.

«The goal of this newest residential program is to provide opportunities for participants to open to the greatest energy of all, Universal Love. Principles are introduced which are directed toward expediting the growth and empowerment of participants whose conscious intent is to know, and to express, the full potential of love as a richly integrated part of their daily lives» — qué es el programa Heartline y qué nombre le da a su objeto: abrirse a la mayor energía de todas, el Amor Universal.

«Timeout is a major expansion of human purpose into that area of life activity which consumes one third of our existence, about which little is known and of which little use, apart from the obvious, is made. This area is sleep, the periods when we take “time out” from the physical world» — qué es el Proyecto Timeout y sobre qué franja de la vida se propone actuar: el tercio de la existencia que consume el sueño, del que poco se sabe y poco se aprovecha.

«to develop conscious control of the sleep state, so that one is able to “go” to sleep when and if desired and to awaken or stay awake as the need arises; to make useful and practical application of the sleep state not only as physical and mental regeneration but as a period of profound and intensive learning; to gather knowledge and understanding of the sleep state using a different base from the present historical perspective» — los tres objetivos del proyecto: controlar conscientemente el estado de sueño, darle aplicación práctica como periodo de aprendizaje intensivo y no solo de regeneración, y estudiarlo desde una base distinta de la histórica.

«Currently it appears that roughly 30 percent of the world population suffer with sleep dysfunction in one form or another. In the United States alone, it is estimated that over 30,000,000 persons use prescription medication in order to get to sleep» — las cifras con que el apéndice justifica el mercado del proyecto, y las da como estimaciones: alrededor del 30 por ciento de la población mundial con alguna disfunción del sueño, y más de treinta millones de personas solo en Estados Unidos con medicación prescrita para dormir.

«The Project does not attempt to replace services offered by sleep disorder clinics and does not deal with sleep problems due to various psychological dysfunctions. However, it is designed to assist in cases where psychological factors disturb the sleep process. It is a learning system rather than a method of treatment» — el deslinde clínico que el propio apéndice escribe, y conviene retenerlo porque es el único de su tipo en el libro: no pretende sustituir a las clínicas del sueño ni atender disfunciones psicológicas, y es un sistema de aprendizaje y no un método de tratamiento.

«This set of exercises is designed for use during surgery, serious physical injury, or illness. Cassettes and CDs are provided for use by the patient prior to surgery, in the operating room, and during recovery and recuperation. Recorded results with well over two hundred patients indicate a marked reduction in fear and anxiety, a reduced requirement of anesthesia, minimal pain during recovery, and up to 50 percent less recuperative time» — qué es la Serie de Apoyo Quirúrgico y qué resultados se le atribuyen, con la cifra que el apéndice imprime: en más de doscientos pacientes registrados, menos miedo y ansiedad, menos anestesia requerida, dolor mínimo en la recuperación y hasta la mitad de tiempo de convalecencia.

«A series of exercises that teach methods for accessing inner» — cómo abre el apéndice el Programa de Inmunidad Positiva: ejercicios para acceder a recursos internos; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«This series provides a dynamic set of “tools” with which to enter the miracle of childbirth. Through these exercises an understanding of one’s vast creative potential leads to the ability to face pregnancy and birth with confidence and serenity. Support for beginning stages of pregnancy through labor and breast-feeding» — qué ofrece la serie para el embarazo y el parto: herramientas para enfrentarlos con confianza y serenidad, desde las primeras etapas hasta la lactancia.

«Designed to be listened to at bedtime, these exercises help to develop one’s lifetime learning skills through teaching how to continuously re-create one’s self-concept; redefine stress and find joy in every day; develop the skills, attitudes, and habits of a lifelong learner; use gratitude to enhance and increase the positive aspects in one’s life» — y la última serie del catálogo, que ya no toca ninguno de los temas del libro: ejercicios para escuchar al acostarse, orientados a rehacer el autoconcepto, redefinir el estrés y usar la gratitud.

«The Monroe Institute’s Hemi-Sync process. F. Holmes Atwater. The theoretical, physiological effects of Hemi-Sync on humans» — la entrada que abre el catálogo de trabajos de investigación, y conviene el adjetivo que ella misma usa: los efectos fisiológicos teóricos del Hemi-Sync sobre los humanos.

«Use of Monroe Hemi-Sync relaxation tapes to decelerate maladaptive behavior. Ronald W. Brill, Ph.D., and G. Rex Walker, Ph.D. Effects of Hemi-Sync in treatment of patients with self-injurious behavior» — una de las aplicaciones clínicas que el catálogo consigna, firmada a dos manos: cintas de relajación con pacientes de conducta autolesiva.

«Palliative for wandering attention. Devon Edrington. Hemi-Sync in the classroom to maintain student attention» — la vertiente escolar del catálogo, con el título que su autor le puso: un paliativo para la atención que se va, usado en el aula.

«The facilitation of learning. Suzanne Evans Morris, Ph.D. Speech-language pathologist uses Hemi-Sync to facilitate learning with developmentally disabled children» — otra aplicación educativa del catálogo, esta con población clínica: una patóloga del habla y el lenguaje usando Hemi-Sync con niños con discapacidad del desarrollo.

«The effects upon adolescent behavioral outburst as a function of the administration of audiotapes containing subaudible sound frequencies. James M. Thomas, Ph.D. Hemi-Sync as an intervention with seriously emotionally disturbed adolescents in a residential treatment facility» — una intervención con adolescentes en internamiento, y el título declara el mecanismo que se prueba: cintas con frecuencias sonoras por debajo del umbral audible.

«Healing from within: AIDS and Hemi-Sync. Michael Dullnig, M.D., Lawrence Falk, J.D., and Ann Martin, M.A. Overview of an eight-week seminar for HIV-positive individuals, using Hemi-Sync tapes, including HUMAN-PLUS Function tapes» — el seminario de ocho semanas para personas seropositivas que el catálogo registra, firmado por un médico, un abogado y una maestra en artes.

«Explorer Project. Rita Warren, Ph.D., and Dave Wallis, M.S. Update on The Monroe Institute’s Explorer Project, including the new Gifted and Talented Subjects Program» — la entrada que conecta este catálogo con el segundo volumen de la trilogía: una actualización del Explorer Project, cuyas sesiones son el material de *Far Journeys*.

«Hemi-Sync and snoring. J. Edwin Carter. A successful strategy of using Hemi-Sync to reduce the snoring habit» — una de las entradas que muestra hasta dónde se estira el catálogo, y se ficha por eso: una estrategia contra el ronquido.

«Hemi-Sync aids in stroke recovery. Frank Anders, Jr., M.D. Report on a patient with complete right hemiplegia, and the beneficial results of using the Hemi-Sync Stroke Recovery Series for the recovery of both motor and speech functions» — un informe de caso neurológico: un paciente con hemiplejia derecha completa y los resultados que se le atribuyen a la serie de recuperación tras un ictus.

«Hemi-Sync workshop development and presentation. Jill Russell, L.C.S.P., and Ronald Russell, M.A. Use of Hemi-Sync in remedial therapy sessions and as the basis of adult education classes» — la entrada firmada por Jill Russell y Ronald Russell, y conviene retener quiénes son en este mismo volumen: él firma el prólogo y ella el tercero de los relatos de rescate del capítulo dieciocho.

«EEG and subjective correlates of alpha frequency binaural beats stimulation combined with alpha biofeedback. Dale S. Foster, Ph.D. Abstract excerpted from the doctoral dissertation of the same title» — la entrada del catálogo con mayor pedigrí académico declarado: un resumen extractado de una tesis doctoral del mismo título sobre estimulación con pulsos binaurales en frecuencia alfa.

«Hemi-Sync and the brain entrainment process: Myth or reality? Mohammad R. Sadigh, Ph.D. Investigation of synchronous brain states promoted by Hemi-Sync and the possibility that it fosters the ability to produce these states at will» — la entrada que plantea la duda en su propio título, y por eso vale más que las demás: si el arrastre cerebral es mito o realidad.

«What can chaos theory tell us about consciousness and brain function? Glenn Pearce. Discussion of chaos theory and its possible application to the investigation of brain states facilitated by Hemi-Sync» — una entrada teórica y en potencial: qué podría decir la teoría del caos sobre la conciencia y la función cerebral.

«Hypnosis, Hemi-Sync, and how the mind works. Robert Rosenthal, M.D. Discussion of the similarities and differences between Hemi-Sync and hypnosis and their usefulness as aids to spiritual growth and consciousness development» — la entrada que compara el procedimiento con la técnica de la que el libro se deslinda en el capítulo ocho: semejanzas y diferencias entre Hemi-Sync e hipnosis.

«Studying Hemi-Sync effects on animals. Helen N. Guttman, Ph.D. Hemi-Sync as a possible environmental enrichment tool for animals» — la extensión del asunto a los animales, dicha en potencial: una posible herramienta de enriquecimiento ambiental.

«Hemi-Sync sounds for synchronizing brains of horses. Helene N. Guttman, Ph.D. Hemi-Sync mediated synchronization of the equine brain and possible applications» — y su caso más concreto, con la misma firma: sincronización del cerebro equino y sus aplicaciones posibles.

«Hemi-Sync uses in military settings: Education and counseling. Raymond O. Waldkoetter, Ph.D. A review of Hemi-Sync use by the Army since 1978 for stress» — la entrada de mayor peso institucional del catálogo, con su fecha: una revisión del uso de Hemi-Sync por el Ejército desde 1978.

«Hemi-Sync as a subtle starting point in experiential psychotherapy with individuals with cancer. Howard Schachter, Ph.D. Alleviating the fear and anxiety surrounding a diagnosis of cancer so an individual can begin healing at all levels—Hemi-Sync as a tool to support wellness» — la entrada más cercana a la historia personal del libro, publicada el mismo año en que muere Nancy: aliviar el miedo y la ansiedad que rodean a un diagnóstico de cáncer.

«Hemi-Sync Tool Kits. Collections of anecdotal reports on the uses of» — cómo el propio catálogo clasifica su otra mitad, y el adjetivo lo pone él: colecciones de informes anecdóticos sobre los usos del procedimiento; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«Learning Stress Personal Growth Surgery Wellness Emotional Well-being» — las categorías bajo las que se agrupan esos informes anecdóticos, y el rango dice a qué aspira el procedimiento: aprendizaje, estrés, crecimiento personal, cirugía, bienestar y bienestar emocional.

«Throughout human history, there has been a common yearning and nostalgia for something deep in ourselves—our true identity, our origin. Our busy, practical minds, appropriately focused upon accomplishing things in this life, have trouble with this yearning. It seems irrational and emotional, so many of us interpret it as a desire to revisit the site of our physical origin, our birthplace and childhood. Of those who do, many come away unsatisfied and unfulfilled» — cómo abre la serie Going Home, y su diagnóstico es el mismo que Monroe aplicó a su propio caso en el capítulo tres: la nostalgia por el origen se interpreta como ganas de volver al sitio del nacimiento, y quienes van vuelven insatisfechos.

«They expected more but cannot define what they mean by “more.” Some begin a search for an answer, not realizing they are already searching as they become astronomers, researchers, space shuttle pilots, microbiologists, psychologists, ministers, therapists, philosophers, to name the obvious. Then there are all of us ordinary people who sometimes pause for a moment to reflect about what it all means. But just for a moment» — quiénes serían, según este texto, los que buscan sin saberlo: astrónomos, investigadores, pilotos del transbordador, microbiólogos, psicólogos, ministros, terapeutas y filósofos, más la gente común que se detiene un momento a preguntarse qué significa todo.

«A growing number of us finally become astute enough to realize one way or another that each of us will eventually be “going home.” To our original point of origin, not Here but There. It’s only a matter of time. Thus we begin and continue to identify with an exploratory, seeking attitude» — qué se propone que se reconozca, con el vocabulario del libro: que cada quien acabará yendo a casa, a su punto de origen, no aquí sino allá, y que es solo cuestión de tiempo.

«Going Home is a series of audio learning exercises on cassette tape or compact disc (CD), designed for use in a place of residence, in hospitals, hospices, and nursing care facilities. The Project has designed a special kind of help for those with life-threatening illness or injury and for their family and loved ones» — qué es la serie y para quién está hecha, y ahí el proyecto se sale del ámbito del taller: ejercicios en casete o disco compacto para usarse en casa, hospitales, hospicios y casas de cuidados, para quienes tienen enfermedad o lesión que amenaza la vida y para sus allegados.

«This set of recorded learning exercises offers a means whereby the individual can reduce dramatically the common fear of physical death. The result can be, at the least, greater tolerance of the situation, including awareness that humans are indeed more than their physical bodies. At most, the Going Home user may learn to control willfully and calmly the sequence of physical death» — qué promete la serie, con el mínimo y el máximo declarados por separado: al menos mayor tolerancia de la situación y la conciencia de ser más que el cuerpo, y a lo más aprender a controlar a voluntad y con calma la secuencia de la muerte física.

«Concurrently, Going Home also helps family and friends understand» — la otra mitad del propósito, dirigida a los que se quedan: que familia y amigos entiendan el proceso de la muerte física; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«and accept the physical death process so as to provide badly needed specific support at critical moments. It also includes methods that can be employed to help family and friends as they adjust to and recover from the loss of their loved one» — y para qué, del otro lado del salto: dar el apoyo específico que hace falta en los momentos críticos, con métodos para ayudarlos a recuperarse de la pérdida.

«Going Home takes the following positions. The Principal identifies one who is in the last and incontrovertible stages of a terminal illness or injury. Family and Friends identify those who are in close loving and loved contact with the Principal» — los dos papeles que la serie define, y el primero se acota con dureza: el Principal es quien está en las etapas últimas e incontrovertibles de una enfermedad o lesión terminal, y Familia y Amigos quienes lo rodean.

«The Primary Purpose is to provide the Principal with an interesting prospect of valuable knowledge achieved through direct experience, rather than a dull and distasteful event» — el propósito primario, formulado como sustitución de un marco por otro: darle al Principal la perspectiva interesante de un conocimiento valioso obtenido por experiencia directa, en vez de un suceso deslucido y desagradable.

«To release the Principal from the fear of physical death. This is achieved by developing the knowledge that one is more than the physical body, and one does survive physical death» — el primero de los propósitos secundarios, que es el *Basic* del libro puesto como objetivo terapéutico: liberar del miedo a la muerte física desarrollando el saber de que uno es más que su cuerpo y de que sobrevive.

«To help the Principal release emotions, guilts, and obligations that are no longer needed and bind one to the present physical life experience. C. To help the Principal recognize and remember some of the possibilities subsequent to this present physical life experience» — el segundo y el tercero: soltar emociones, culpas y obligaciones que ya no hacen falta y que atan a esta vida, y reconocer y recordar algunas de las posibilidades posteriores.

«To provide the Principal an opportunity to exercise calmly and rationally the option to depart this physical existence when one so desires» — el cuarto propósito, que es el más delicado de la lista y el libro lo enuncia sin rodeos: darle al Principal la oportunidad de ejercer con calma y racionalidad la opción de partir cuando lo desee.

«To instill in the Principal the knowledge that after the physical death transition, it is possible to send messages and signals to Family and Friends, if so desired» — el quinto: inculcarle que después de la transición es posible mandar mensajes y señales a familia y amigos, si así lo quiere.

«To provide Family and Friends of the Principal with enough exposure to Going Home learning exercises so as to assure their understanding, encouragement, and support to the Principal engaged in the process» — y el sexto, que cierra el circuito: exponer a familia y amigos a los ejercicios lo bastante para asegurar su comprensión y su apoyo.

«Going Home is based upon the success of the Lifeline Program, which has demonstrated the practicality of the process. The» — de dónde se deriva la serie, y el verbo es del propio texto: se apoya en el programa Lifeline, que habría demostrado la practicidad del proceso; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«ROBERT A. MONROE was the founder of the Monroe Institute, a nonprofit educational and research organization devoted to the exploration of human consciousness and practical methods of accelerated learning through expanded forms of consciousness. The institute is internationally known for its work in the effects of sound wave forms on human behavior» — cómo presenta al autor la nota biográfica, y el tiempo verbal delata que se escribió después de su muerte: fue el fundador de un instituto no lucrativo dedicado a la exploración de la conciencia humana y a métodos de aprendizaje acelerado.

«Mr. Monroe, the son of a college professor and a medical doctor mother, received his degree from Ohio State University after studies in engineering and journalism» — los datos de origen y formación que la nota consigna, y no coinciden del todo con lo que el propio libro cuenta: hijo de un profesor universitario y de una madre médica, titulado por la Ohio State University tras estudios de ingeniería y periodismo, cuando el capítulo once relata que reprobó ahí en segundo año antes de ser readmitido.

«He then entered the radio broadcasting industry as a writer and director of programs. In 1958, as a broadcasting executive in New York, he began to undergo spontaneous experiences that drastically altered his life and are documented in his first book, Journeys Out of the Body (Anchor Press/Doubleday)» — cómo data la nota el arranque de todo, con el sello editorial del primer volumen: ejecutivo de radiodifusión en Nueva York, empezó en 1958 a tener experiencias espontáneas que le alteraron drásticamente la vida.

«In 1985 his second book, Far Journeys (Doubleday), was published. In astonishing detail, this book describes Monroe’s work with people who travel in time and space with illuminating results through the use of the process known as Hemi-Sync. The book offers a new awareness, a different overview, of the untapped resources and limitless possibilities of the human mind» — cómo describe la nota el segundo volumen de la trilogía: publicado por Doubleday en 1985, sobre su trabajo con personas que viajan en tiempo y espacio mediante el Hemi-Sync.

«In addition to his interest in human consciousness and his accomplishments as an author, Mr. Monroe owned and operated radio stations in Virginia and North Carolina. He later formed Jefferson Cable Corporation and as president guided the construction and operation of cable-TV systems in Charlottesville and Waynesboro, Virginia» — la otra carrera que la nota le acredita, y es la que financió todo lo demás: dueño y operador de estaciones de radio en Virginia y Carolina del Norte, y después presidente de una empresa de cable que construyó y operó sistemas de televisión por cable.

«Since 1976, Mr. Monroe has devoted his life to exploring the potentials of human consciousness at the Monroe Institute through research and education using his patented audio sound technology, Hemi-Sync» — a qué dedicó la nota su vida desde 1976, con la naturaleza jurídica del procedimiento declarada: una tecnología de sonido patentada.

«Mr. Monroe made his transition on March 17, 1995» — el dato que fecha esta nota después de la edición de 1994 que el libro declara, y que usa para la muerte el término del propio autor: hizo su transición el 17 de marzo de 1995.

«The Monroe Institute is located in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. The institute continues to offer residential programs in human development and continues to research the effects of the Hemi-Sync technology on human behavior. The legacy of Mr. Monroe is limitless and the institute will continue to explore and» — cómo cierra la nota: el instituto sigue ofreciendo programas residenciales e investigando los efectos del Hemi-Sync, y el legado de Monroe se declara ilimitado; la frase termina en la plana siguiente.

«expand his vision Here through his guidance There» — y con qué fórmula, que adopta el vocabulario del propio libro para hablar de su autor muerto: expandir su visión aquí mediante la guía de él allá. La frase empieza en la plana anterior.

«Laurie A. Monroe President The Monroe Institute The internet address for the Monroe Institute is» — quién firma esa nota como presidenta del instituto, y el nombre importa para la atribución de este aparato: Laurie A. Monroe.

«Ultimate Journey. Copyright © 1994 by Robert A. Monroe. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the» — el aviso de derechos: el texto es de 1994 y el titular es el propio Robert A. Monroe, no el instituto. La frase queda cortada por el salto de plana.

«It is here reprinted by arrangement with Doubleday.» — y la genealogía del ejemplar que se ficha: una reimpresión de Broadway por acuerdo con Doubleday, que fue quien publicó la edición en pasta dura.

«First Broadway Books trade paperback edition published 2000.» — la fecha que la página de derechos le pone a esta impresión —2000—, distinta del 2014 con que el corpus registra el ejemplar; se consigna lo que imprime la fuente y no se arbitra.

«The Library of Congress has catalogued the hardcover edition as: Monroe, Robert A. Ultimate journey / Robert A. Monroe. p. cm. 1. Astral projection. I. Title. BF1389.A7M667 1994 93-32139 133.9—dc20» — cómo cataloga la obra la Biblioteca del Congreso, con un dato que vale la pena retener: el único encabezamiento de materia que le asigna es *astral projection*, justamente el término que Monroe rechaza en los tres volúmenes.

«ISBN 0-385-47208-0 eBook ISBN: 978-0-8041-5398-0» — los dos ISBN que la plana declara, el de la pasta dura y el del libro electrónico del que sale la capa de texto que se cita.

«Dedicated to Nancy Penn Monroe Co-Founder, The Monroe Institute and the Hundreds of Supporting Friends Who Have Provided Assistance and Love over the Past Thirty Years in the TMI Pursuit of Obscured Knowns» — la dedicatoria entera: nombra a Nancy Penn Monroe como cofundadora del instituto y a cientos de amigos a lo largo de treinta años, y define la empresa con el vocabulario propio del libro, la persecución de *Knowns* oscurecidos.

«Contents Cover Other Books by This Author Title Page Copyright Dedication Foreword 1 The Variable 2 The Long, Long Trail 3 Along the Interstate 4 Hail and Farewell 5 Recoup and Regroup 6 Inside and Outside 7 Tour Guide 8 Recall and Review 9 The Hard Way 10 Detached Retinue 11 Turning Inward 12 Inside the Inside 13 Fine Tuning 14 The Sum and the Parts 15 Long Trail A-Winding 16 The Roadside View 17 More Work in Progress 18 The New Direction 19 Taking Timeout Glossary The Monroe Institute Research Papers and Reports Going Home Series» — el índice tal como lo imprime la plana: diecinueve capítulos numerados y cuatro piezas de cierre —glosario, el instituto, los informes de investigación y la serie Going Home—; la lista sigue en la plana siguiente con la nota biográfica.

«Robert Monroe is a mapmaker. In Ultimate Journey he seeks to chart that area which lies “over the edge,” beyond the limits of the physical world. He presents us with a map of the “Interstate”—the route that opens to us when we leave our physical lives, with its entry and exit ramps, its signposts and its hazards. This he is able to do because he has traveled the route himself; he writes from knowledge, not from belief.» — abre el prólogo, que no es de Monroe sino de Ronald Russell: lo presenta como cartógrafo de la zona de más allá del borde y le atribuye escribir desde conocimiento y no desde creencia.

«Monroe’s first book, Journeys out of the Body, was published in 1971. Since then, according to Dr. Charles Tart, one of the leading experts on consciousness and human potential, “innumerable people have found comfort and help in the knowledge that they weren’t alone and weren’t crazy just because they had had out-of-body experiences.” In that book and its successor, Far Journeys, Monroe recorded his out-of-body experiences over three decades and established a reputation as a trailblazer in the exploration of the far reaches of human consciousness.» — Russell encadena los tres volúmenes y apoya la recepción del primero en una frase que atribuye a Charles Tart; la valoración es del prologuista y la frase entrecomillada, de Tart.

«There is one major difference between this book and its predecessors. Until now, the story has been Monroe’s alone; it has been his own adventures he has described, his own meetings, dialogues, perils, and discoveries. In Ultimate Journey, he tells how he found the route—the new direction—traveled it, and uncovered the reason and the purpose for this pioneering expedition. And, most important, he includes the reports of others who, through his new teaching program, have been able to read the map, follow the direction, and fulfill the same purpose.» — Russell señala qué cambia en este tercer volumen respecto de los dos anteriores: deja de ser solo la aventura de Monroe e incorpora los informes de otros participantes de su programa.

«All may know that it is possible for anyone to follow this new direction if belief systems are set aside and the mind is open and willing.» — la condición que el prologuista le pone al lector para seguir la nueva dirección: dejar de lado los sistemas de creencias y mantener la mente abierta.

«Monroe says that nothing in this book negates the validity of its two predecessors, “which represent stages of growth and are accurate according to the Knowns available through personal experience at the time.” His personal experience while working on his third book, however, took a sad and unforeseen turn when his wife Nancy was diagnosed with cancer. His search for the missing Basic was intensified by the knowledge that for Nancy’s sake there was little time to spare.» — Russell cita a Monroe para que los dos volúmenes anteriores no queden invalidados —los llama etapas de crecimiento, exactas según los *Knowns* disponibles entonces— y sitúa el motivo personal del libro, el cáncer de Nancy.

«It is good to record that he completed his exploration and found both the new direction and the missing Basic while Nancy was still with him in physical reality, and that he and others were able to apply the knowledge he gained to help her in her own ultimate journey. —Ronald Russell» — el cierre del prólogo, firmado por Ronald Russell desde Cambridge: da por hallados la nueva dirección y el *Basic* que faltaba mientras Nancy vivía todavía.

I There — El IT que cada quien tiene, con todas las personalidades de vida previas y presentes; está hecho solo de campo (M) y reside fuera del tiempo-espacio.

I Here — El yo que funciona en el mundo físico; durante la sesión queda como un cuerpo en operación sin conciencia, con enlace ascendente constante hacia el I-There.

Excom — Comité ejecutivo del I-There, surgido de las muchas personalidades de vida; el nombre lo eligió Monroe entre los acrónimos que la propia voz le propuso.

Core Self — Vórtice original de energía del campo (M) de cada ser físico vivo, y capa más interna del modelo de cebolla de la mente humana.

Animal Sub Self — Cerebro mamífero, reptiliano y sistema límbico; toda expresión y todo dato pasan filtrados y distorsionados por ahí.

M Field — Campo de energía no física que permea el tiempo-espacio y que declara fuera del conocimiento científico actual; el pensamiento es una perturbación suya, y la emoción y el amor bandas adyacentes.

H Band — Cima del pensamiento descontrolado que emana de todo lo vivo en la Tierra, con la amplitud de cada segmento fijada por la emoción del pensamiento.

Belief System Territories — Anillos del espectro del campo (M) contiguos al sistema terrestre donde residen mentes humanas tras la vida física, cada una atraída al segmento de la creencia a la que se apegó.

Basic — Conocimiento esencial que da argumento al libro; el que faltaba resulta ser que el universo físico es un proceso creativo en marcha y que hay un Creador, con lo que ese Creador sea declarado desconocido.

Different Overview — Reunir conocimiento sin el brillo de las creencias ni los mandatos animales; Monroe advierte que para el lector no puede pasar de creencia hasta que lo pruebe.

Oobe — Estado de conciencia en que uno se percibe distinto y separado del cuerpo físico, a dos pulgadas o a dos mil millas.

Segundo Cuerpo — Término del primer volumen que este reutiliza sin fundirlo con los nuevos: extremadamente plástico, no físico, parte de otro sistema de energía entreverado con el terrestre pero fuera de fase.

Quick Switch — Estirar la conciencia como una liga hasta el destino y soltarla donde uno está; hay que partir de un estado enfocado fuera del cuerpo, y requiere práctica.

Phasing — Medida del porcentaje de la mente humana implicado en la materia física en un momento dado; el sueño, la desatención y el soñar despierto son desplazamientos de fase.

Rote — Related Organized Thought Energy: bola de pensamiento e ideas condensados, un libro o grabación mental con patrones emocionales y sensoriales.

Inspec — Acrónimo de Intelligent Species elegido entre broma y hecho; al final del recorrido el I-There le dice que aquel interlocutor era él mismo, y llama malo al rótulo.

Earth Life System — Área organizada de tiempo-espacio que habitamos; sistema depredador de cadena alimentaria y a la vez máquina de enseñanza exquisita, sin que el libro concilie las dos descripciones.

Interstate — Juego con el nombre del sistema carretero estadounidense, usado para la ruta de un estado de conciencia a otro; sus rampas de entrada son la muerte física.

Home — Punto individual de entrada al campo (M) o al tiempo-espacio; Monroe vuelve a él y lo halla en bucle repetido, y renuncia a la meta por su propia experiencia.

Kt 95 — Rótulo arbitrario que el propio autor le pone a su Home original fuera del sistema solar, y del que advierte que no es su nombre real.

Apertura y Emisor — La Apertura es el punto de entrada al más allá y el Emisor la abertura por la que irradia la energía que organizó el universo físico; Monroe declara no haber pasado de ahí.

Holograma — Teoría marcada como tal por el glosario: el campo (M) crearía el tiempo-espacio como los rayos de luz que se cruzan crean una imagen.

Hemi Sync — Nombre comercial de un sistema de ondas de audio que sincroniza las formas de onda eléctricas entre los dos hemisferios.

Lifeline — Programa residencial de seis días para viajar más allá del punto de transición y acompañar a los recién muertos hasta el Centro de Recepción.

Focus 27 — Centro de Recepción o Parque: síntesis artificial creada por mentes humanas, estación de paso que toma forma de entornos terrestres para resultar aceptable.

Big L — Amor indestructible y eterno que no depende de hábitos ni costumbres locales, y que Monroe llama el Core Self en su destilación más fina.

Last Timer Ring — Zona más externa de influencia humana en el campo, donde quienes han decidido hacer una sola vida humana más se detienen a decidir cuál y cuándo será.

Miedo — Barrera del crecimiento humano; solo dos miedos son de nacimiento, y todo miedo lo generan los Unknowns.

Inteligencias No Humanas — Su existencia se declara Known; saben mucho más del campo (M), apenas les interesa quiénes somos, y comunicarse con ellas es casi imposible. Una sola de todas las encontradas tendría origen fuera del tiempo-espacio.