Surprise Visit from Benjamin Franklin
Channeled Information in Bold Italics
I’m having a moment. It has to do with the new year, with all the resolutions I said I wanted to make, and the fact that I really do not want to do our finances for last year. I just don’t, and nothing you do will make me smile.
Was that a tantrum? Did it involve chocolate? No, but it was decidedly unworthy of my advanced age of 68, where I am supposed to have learned how to act like an adult.
I promise. Today, I will set up the new file in Quickbooks and get started on it. I will not spend more than two hours on the project, and I’ll be done by 3 pm. There. Satisfied?
This is Benjamin Franklin speaking.
I thought you were teasing me.
No, I did stop in for a chat and a few words of encouragement for you.
Me?
Do you see anybody else in the room?
Well, no, but this is a story I thought I might publish.
Why?
Well, I haven’t written anything in a week or so. At least, nothing that got finished or morphed into a full piece.
What would you consider a piece?
Beginning, middle, and end of something. An article. Not like a piece of a pie. The whole thing. You know. A piece. Something that is 1,500 or so words long.
How many pages would that be?
Two or maybe three. Three or four, if we continue talking, we both get our own line.
Sounds sensible. Do you know what I used to do?
No, what?
Well, early on, I wrote those humorous pieces. I used the people in our village as fodder. They didn’t know it, but after I’d been doing it for a while, the “pieces” I wrote caught on. Everybody was always trying to guess who I was writing about. It kept them busy at a time when there wasn’t much for entertainment.
So, you were fulfilling a need.
Yes. I was also amusing myself. It helps if you don’t always think of having your nose to the grindstone as all there is. Work fulfills a need, and humor is just what makes life fun.
You were there in the Revolutionary War.
Yes. There was a lot of intrigue going on. We were families, all from the same parent countries. British, Scots, Irish, Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, Dutch. The larger point is, however, that we got to America. We got here. Some were escaping. Others were sentenced. It was dangerous here. The Tribes did not want us here. How would you like it if somebody moved into your neighborhood and told you that you had to leave? Or that you couldn’t hunt game or fish there anymore. And, also, how you could tell did not like you much, or at least did not trust you much?
It was like that?
Yes. The years that have passed have certainly eased the tensions somewhat. The war is over, but the contentiousness that was there is still with you. If I were still a part of the game, I’d be in there writing my head off about your current affairs. About how there is even less goodwill now than there ever was when I was alive.
Does it make you angry?
No, nothing makes me angry now. It’s just that being a spook is very different from being alive and in a body.
Do you miss it?
No. Not when I get to talk to people like you. I think I’d like to try on a dress.
Really?
Yes, just to see what it was like. A dress now is certainly different from the dresses women wore in the 1700s. Then, there were lots of ribbons. The cats loved those dresses. They’d get underneath them and have sanctuary. In fact, “Sanctuary for a Cat” seems like a good title. I could write something like that. Imagine being underneath a woman’s skirts and looking up into the cathedral ceiling above you.
Do people have mental health problems in Heaven?
No, not so much. Why do you ask?
Hey, I just peeked, and we’ve made it to two pages.
Are you bored? Do you wish to stop?
No. I’m just feeling guilty about not doing our accounting for last year.
A penny saved is a penny earned.
Yes, that’s one of your sayings.
It was catchy. People liked that. They were busy enough all day, and when it came time for entertainment, sometimes things got out of hand.
Were you bawdy?
No, never. I was a most respectable gentleman of the town. In fact, I was a dignitary. I was an ambassador to France.
Yes, I heard about that.
You didn’t hear much.
Do you want to fight?
No, this is a spirited discussion.
You just made a joke.
Yes, how so?
Well, you are a spirit, and you said it was a spirited discussion.
As Gilda Radner, a delightful young woman, said to you, “I guess I haven’t lost it.”
What’s it like?
What?
Living in Heaven.
Well, it isn’t really Heaven. They would like you to think it is Heaven, but it’s just the next town over. We don’t miss anything if that’s what you’re getting at. It’s very scholarly and very much into arts and crafts sort of things, except now you get to paint with the air. With the seasons. With love. And other emotions if you want, but the overriding deal here is love.
I want to be there.
Yes, I know. A lot of people do, but your job is to live as long as you are allotted years on Earth. Do stuff. Grow stuff. Read stuff. Make a joyful noise and sing.
That’s good advice.
In order to be funny, you have to see humor in everything. You have to see humor in the dry-goods store. You have to see humor when you collect eggs. You have to see humor when you sterilize jars to preserve food. It is no help to memorize jokes other people have thought of. You need to be observant and see the light in people’s eyes. That’s when you dance. Figuratively. If you can see their light, their love, their interest you can respond.
That’s good advice, too. I see you balancing a teacup. You’re doing the pointy-finger thing. Also, you’ve got white socks and knee-high britches.
Just trying to be accommodating. By the way, it is not socks. They are called stockings. And we don’t call pants britches, either. They are pants.
Sorry.
It doesn’t matter at all. You are from one time, and I, at least in that incarnation, am from another. You are speaking to me as the person Benjamin Franklin. I’ve come around at least two more times since then and am presently living in Cincinnati. I am a young boy who, like your son, is also called Ben.
Is that a thing? Where you can be the same from life to life?
Well, it is a humorous thing. The Ben of now is not the same as the Ben of the 1700s. We just share a name. And he is funny, so I will give you that.
I’m going to have to put a disclaimer at the end of this piece. Something like it’s for entertainment purposes. Who in their right mind would think I was talking to Benjamin Franklin? Also, how is it that you are incarnated right now and still speaking to me in spirit?
That gets you into that unknowable stuff. Where the soul is so much larger than you can ever imagine. Here’s something for people to ponder. If you are thinking about loved ones who have passed on and they’ve been gone for some time, the chances of them having incarnated again are possible. Then again, sometimes you get folks who aren’t incarnating so much, and the times between incarnations stretch to hundreds and even thousands of years. It makes it seem like once you’re gone, you are not coming back. But we all return in one way or another. Take the time to smile at people. Who knows? You might have been related somewhere along the line.
So, what happened above in this piece was a spot of channeling. This is what it is like for me. I put Ben’s part in bold italics. Also, my Ben in the piece is the son I had before. My husband and I do not have children in this lifetime. It just never happened, and there are times when it breaks my heart. I just can’t help it. I mourn for the children I never had. One day, my Ben came through in spirit. I’ll put a link to his story below. I was very sad one day, and he came through to visit me and comfort me.
If you ever want to channel, there are lots of books out there that can help. Be brave. Strange stuff happens. Your view of reality gets knocked around some, but I can say personally that it’s worth it. But it is sort of odd. And you have to be brave.
Thanks for reading.
The Links: The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin — Link at Amazon. I bought my copy in 2010. I can’t remember everything, but it was a terrific read. Opening to Channel by Sanaya Roman and Duane Packer — the website.