-Are you a God?
- they asked the Buddha.
- No.
- Are you an angel, then?
- No.
- A saint?
- No.
- Then what are you?


"Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure of
the universe"-Albert Einstein-

Om Mani Padme Hum

Matthew 25:40

And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.

Matthew 7 1-6

1. Judge not, that ye be not judged.
2. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.
3. And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?
4. Or how wilt thou say to thy brother, Let me pull out the mote out of thine eye; and, behold, a beam is in thine own eye?
5. Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother's eye.
6. Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

A great place to hang out...years ago

As I've mentioned I'm wanting to move from upstate NY back to Calif.  Lived in the Fullerton/Anaheim area for thirty years with a few excursions to other places, but always drawn back to Fullerton. We moved there in '63, lived on West Ave and I went to Buena Park HS. Everybody loved it but my father who hated Calif. from the day he got there. No seasons, no family, too many people, too much traffic, so after two, or three false starts moving back and forth, my parents and three youngest siblings moved back here in '78 for good. I followed in '92 for several reasons, expecting to stay 6 mo. or a year...not the 18 years it's been. I've always said that my family originally moved to Calif, solely so I could meet a girl we'll just call S., but that's another story. It does kind of tie in with the book I'm reading, "Is There Life After Death?" that I talked about a couple posts ago...that each of us is the sole inhabitant of our own universe, our own reality, possibly a dream, perhaps a nightmare...    
ANYWAY...checking out Fullerton online to see what's changed, I saw that Rutabegorz is still there. Forty years old this year in fact. I used to go there with friends back in the early '70's. It was in '71 or '72 that a friend, Carol P., (who passed away at 46, from breast cancer in '98,  (ladies take the hint)), loved it, and got me going there, dragged me there really. Before she passed she'd bought a condo and  was living in Fayetteville, going to Upstate in Syracuse for chemo, when she told me they'd said it was back, and gave her another year. It's vague now, we'd made plans to go dancing on her birthday. She went back to her home in Manhatten.  I don't remember the exact timing but just before her birthday I think, husband number 5, called and told me she'd passed over. The funny thing is I still hear her talking to me. She's always here, but that's another story too.  I guess when you know and care about somebody, seeing or talking to them, almost every day for nearly thirty years, they don't just disappear...  
Back then one place I worked, right behind the bowling alley on Lincoln Ave, was a company called Anaconda Electronics, in mechanical assy. earning a whopping 2.90 an hour, and one of the guys I worked with, then Bill H., later more formally William H., also was a regular at Rutabegorz,  and got all of us in the department to drive over there after work. We usually went to our Lead Man's house to drink and play pool on Friday's after work. He turned out to be a great guy, possibly a genius in some ways, married to a wonderful lady named Jean. Unfortunately didn't recognize his brilliance until years later.
ANYWAY...Rutabegorz was like a cross between a head shop, and a coffee house in those days, when Carol dragged me there.  But I liked it. We'd go there in the afternoons or evenings and get drinks or coffee, sit for hours hanging out, there were people playing guitar and singing here, playing chess there, and just sitting at a table or in chairs reading or talking somewhere else. As I remember, it was dark, and cool, with tables and chairs here and easy chairs there. But time, and I moved on, and now it seems that 40 years later it's still there. The pictures on the website make it look a little Denny's-ish. Perhaps not the same great place to hang out now, don't know. They do now have 3 locations and a bed & breakfast in Orange.  I'll check it out when I get back. In the universe/reality where she didn't get cancer and die, and I didn't move here, probably Carol and I are still going there...who knows.

Lee Murray

Monday, February 15, 2010

Do You Remember Any of Your Past Lives...or Think You Do???

In my case it's I think I do. I've always, well really since I became aware of reincarnation reading Edgar Cayce, and others, in my teens, and remembering interests and ideas I had as a kid,  thought I was a German, almost surely a pilot, in WW II.  As a kid I thought the Luger was beautiful and a .45 the ugliest slab of steel imaginable, was facinated by airplanes in general,  and by Stukas and ME109's especially, I could draw Hitler's portrait from memory. Also Lincoln, Bela Lugosi, and Boris Karloff FWIW...  I also drew pictures of airplanes and warships, with big guns. Always interested in the military, read the Blue Jacket's Manual that had been my grandfathers in the 5th grade. Read Mein Kampf and other books about Germany of the 30's and 40's in the 6th grade through high school.  Who knows, maybe just the kind of stuff any kid does.  Life went on and I learned more about the reality of metaphysics from reading dozens of books, and from lots of interesting people. In some cases from people that would have been amazed to learn they taught me anything, or even knew anything about it.   I knew a guy, from Fullerton JC, part of a group that lived in Silvarado Canyon in the 60's and 70's. They were all in their teens or twenties, looked like hippies, and said they were witches. But they were more than that. I was out there one day and saw him go outside, standing in the yard  he raised his arms, soon he was standing arms outstreached and he was covered with birds. He could do it whenever he wanted.  One of the girls taught me how to use a scrying pool to learn who I was. Hers was made out of a clear glass cereal bowl filled with black ink. She said she'd known me in several previous lives, but would never give me any details. Up to that point, my only excuse is she was 20 and a real babe, I was only 18-19, I was mainly looking down her blouse, at her  tits whenever I talked to her. None of them, I learned later, wore anything under their clothes, guys or girls. As she taught me I saw there was more to her, a lot more, her body surprisingly became unimportant, well...less important. She finally said I was ready to perform a scrying ceremony, imagine my pleasant surprise to find out we had to be naked for the scrying ceremony. Then imagine my horror two seconds later to learn it was the whole group, guys and girls.  Not a hooded robe to be found.  To answer the obvious question, I saw images of places and things, I saw people some I knew, and would know.  I still do when I do it, but saw nothing then, or since,  that I understood as pertaining to my past (or future life) lives. 
Several of them, including my scrying teacher, still live in the canyon. Last time I was in Calif, in 03 I stopped in for a visit before I headed for the plane in Ontario. She was mid fifties then, good looking, and for the record still had impressive tits.  I almost missed the plane, by the time I turned in the car, figured out how to get into the airport, took a tram around the building, got through security and headed to the gate I was late. Then I got there to find that the plane was 20-30 minutes late. She told me later that I didn't have to thank her. 
In the '80's I knew another woman who was  psychic, and taught classes on metaphysics, I still have a couple of the books she'd written and used in her classes. Unfortunately, I never attended her classes, our offices were in the same building on Gilbert Ave. for awhile, and even after she moved to another building I did her copies for her. Anyway she said that her feelings, and my aura, told her that I was an old soul, probably a soldier or a monk in previous lives. I don't know if it's true or not, nor how much I believe, but the interests in the military I had into my early twenties, my interests in religeon and psychic and occult matters, the reality of antidiluvian civilizations, etc. as an adult make me wonder.  My somehow being drawn to smallish living spaces, living and working in small houses, apartments, offices or rooms. All kind of make me think there might have been something she saw that I still don't. 
At the same time all my life I've had an interest in painting and sketching (badly), played various instruments, (badly), had a love of books and reading that developed early, photography that probably's an extention of the drawing and painting, nice clothes, fine books, good cars.  The interests were always there, my intuition, based on that, is that I was rich or well off in previous lives. Which doesn't eliminate the monk or soldier, but I could  also have been an artist or student, in business, all or any of those.
People that know me, or think they do, will say that I'm in love with my posessions. Which might eliminate wealth in past lives, at least as a second or third generation heir. Thinking about it, they may have a point, maybe I am, a little. But more, I  respect posessions for what they are, what they cost, their beauty (in some cases), their usefulness, what it would cost to replace them, and what they represent.  Also, I'm aware how much I'd lose by mistreating, losing or selling.  I'm also messy, not terribly concerned with a place for everything and everything in it's place, not terribly concerned with my pants having a crease sharp enough to shave with, or shoes like a mirror, and all that other stuff a soldier should consider important. I do like to look good, and have good suits, shirts, ties and shoes to wear when needed, but am just as happy wearing pants, moccasins, and a t-shirt.
I like good stuff, I'm attracted to the best, even pants and tshirts. My moccasins run as much as many guys spend on dress shoes. So, how does that equate to being a monk, or a soldier for that matter?   Of course the attraction to the material things may be just a new thing for this life, or perhaps I was a rich soldier or monk... A General, or an Abbot, who knows?
So that's me, what about you? Do you remember or have intuitions as to your previous life, or lives?

Lee Murray

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Something else that's weird.

Years ago I belonged to the Rosicrutian Order (AMORC). In one of their lessons, you would have the room dark, except for 1 candle.  The idea was to sit looking into a mirror, and at some point you'd see the face of a previous incarnation. They didn't say if it was the immediately previous life or just a previous life. But anyway I'm sitting, watching, and after awhile, I see the face of an old Chinese man, wizened, wrinkled, about a hundred years old by the looks.   Since then, I've told this story to everybody I know that has any mystic interests. Guess what, most, if not all have learned about this and tried it, and the weird part is pretty much everybody was a wizened, old, Chinese man in a previous life.....
Lee Murray

Thought about selling a ring.

Still raising moving money for Calif., everybody tells me have 15k or more in my pocket when I get there, to survive.  So sitting here, Blow Up, (starring David Hemmings & a young Vanessa Redgrave),  on tv, made in 66, like going back in time, excellent movie, and I'm checking closed sales on ebay. Did fairly well on ebay selling some other stuff, the two bikes I mentioned earlier among them. Wanted to sell a ring, 1/2 caret diamond, in 14k yellow gold. Yesterday took to the jeweler in Sherburne to sell on consignment, he asked how much did I want... I said it appraised for 2150, or so a few years back, (he did the appraisal), it should be worth more now, gold is way up, diamonds are supposed to be better than cash. After some conversation he basically said on estate jewelry, (meaning used), if I'm lucky I might get half that if the absolutely perfect customer walked in the door. He suggested Craigslist. So tonight I checked ebay and the reality is worse. Half caret diamonds, in 14k gold are selling, if they sell, for 5 or 6 hundred, but most have 0 bids and didn't sell at all. So I have a choice, give it away or keep it and hope the Jags sell soon.  For now I'll hang on to it, even though I already have a replacement, Lapis in 14k, being sized now, at the same jeweler.

Lee Murray

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Look in a mirror. Is that another world?

Here's something really weird I dicovered years ago. Maybe you've tried it too. Find a wall mirror that hangs on a wall with nothing under it, where you can get right up to it. I don't mean a full length I mean a mirror that hangs like a picture, chest high or slightly higher.  Now, get right up to the mirror, toes against the wall, nose against the mirror, and look down into the glass. If you have the same experience as me, you'll see your whole body, even your legs and feet.  How this can happen I don't have a clue.  You'd think, being high off the floor, you'd only get a reflection of what's in front of the mirror, I was dumbfounded to see my feet, even the toes against the wall as I remember. How is this possible?  Try it, you'll be as amazed as I was.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Just started reading a book called "Is There Life After Death?"

Picked it up at Barnes and Noble, and it's absolutely facinating and I'm only starting the second chapter. There is a happy coincidence, or maybe not who knows, in the prologue the author Anthony Peake, (never heard of him before, he's English, a graduate of the University of Warwick, the University of Westminister and the London School of Economics, also a member of the International Ass. of Near-Death Studies), talks about movies, in particular Goundhog Day, which I blogged about awhile back. The interesting thing is that while he saw it differntly, in the end his opinion was basically the same as mine.  His perception of several movies is they, by accident or design, provide a clue to the reality of reality.
To quote briefly from the Foreward, written by Dr. Bruce Greyson, "But in fact Tony Peake does not think that we survive the death of our bodies; he argues instead that we do not die at all, that bodily death as we usually think of it is in fact not possible."  and more, "What Peake suggestsis that when we appear to others to die, we in fact begin our lives all over again - and again and again and again in seemingly endless succession.  and more, another thought I've posted about, "Peake shows how the physical world around you is completely dependent on your perception of it. If your conciousness ceased to exist, so would your universe, along with any record of its existence. Thus, this understanding of quantum physics demands that you never die." and more, "In your universe other people can die, but in their universes they continue to live. Likewise, you will surely die in other peoples universes, but just as surely you cannot die in your own universe."
As I said I'm just starting the second chapter and will do more posts on the book as I go along.  But so far, I have to say I highly recommend this book, it's unlike any other book on life after death, reincarnation, or anything else occult that I've studied, but Mr. Peake has some facinating ideas and I look forward to learning more from him.

Lee Murray

Monday, February 1, 2010


I just sold two bikes on ebay. Both were Italian racing bikes vintage early 80's. One was a Bianchi a medium line bike not full Campy, but painted Celeste. The other was a red '84 Ciocc, full Campy and sewups, weight 22 lbs fully equiped, these guys have never built less that top end, at least up to then. I still have the 70's era Allegro I want to restore, and an '09 Jamis Aurora Elite touring bike I bought last year.
I started riding bikes late for a kid, I was about 11 or 12. I'd tried younger, but could never get the hang of it. Kept tipping over.  Finally after we were living on the farm in Tyner, one afternoon I decided I was going to ride or break my neck.  Our hired man had an English three speed. What in those days we called a racing bike, not knowing any better.  The road we lived on was dirt, down hill, just past the lower barn by the watering trough, (still there 50 years later last time I drove by), it curved to the left went uphill a bit, another road tee'd on to the right, then a downhill like a skislope that went straight to Buckley Falls, or turned to the left onto Winner Rd, another downhill.
Later that summer my brother John pulled off everything but handlebars, seat, and pedals and rode the same bike down the steep hill, missed the turn onto Winner Rd and went straight into the woods hitting a tree and breaking his arm, as I remember.
Anyway, I decided I was going to ride, so I got on the bike by the driveway, and started down the hill. I started to pedal and was wobbling like crazy. But I kept in control, sort of, went around the curve and just past the watering trough lost control, don't remember why, and headed for the ditch. I piled it up in the ditch, skinned a knee and picked up a few cuts and bruises. Picked up the bike and wheeled it to the house, went in and got bandaids and something to drink.  After thinking about it, I got back on the bike and tried again,  got all the way to the road on the right, turned and rode back.
Been riding bikes ever since, well except for a 30 year or so stretch where I didn't ride after breaking my anke riding over to my parents house in Anaheim Calif.  I sold bikes, parts, everything but tools, after that.
After moving to Calif when I was in the 9th grade, I had a friend, Dave, his parents were English, he had a bike, so did I and I wouldn't be exagerating to say we covered most of Fullerton and Buena Park.
A girl, Nellie, lived for awhile next door to his house at her grandmothers, she was from someplace up north.  I asked her out first, we went to Knotts, she borrowed his Mom's bike. Looking back I don't know if he ever really forgave me for that. Nellie came back a summer or two later and we all walked the two or three miles from where their houses were on Carol Dr. to our house, on Delhi Pl., to swim in the pool, she was a very pretty girl, probably 5'4" or so, tanned, long blond hair, with...well you know. She would've been 15-16 maybe 17 at the time.  We were all there swimming me, Dave, my sister and her friends Donna (who was built too) and Elaine,  my brother, my little sister, and probably my Grandmother in the house, Dave and I were hovering around Nellie, she was wearing a bikini, (this was 1966 or 67), that left nothing to the imagination. I thought she looked fantastic. She was showing off, diving into the pool, then doing acrobatics on the lawn, when she suddenly popped out of her bathing suit top, as she was doing a handstand, but that's another story. I will say she stood up, she was darkly tanned except for where her suit had covered her, she just looked at us staring at her, kind of smirked, then she unceremoneously got back in her top, before going back to the pool, with my sister and her friends, laughing. After forty some years, I can still close my eyes and see her, standing in the shade under the tree, looking at us. My mother drove us to take her home to her grandmothers a couple hours later. She left for home a few days later. I never saw her again. That's the story after all.
The summer before, we were still living on West Ave, he and I worked in a local car wash and then picking lemons. I used my money to buy my first 10 speed, a Falcon from the brother of a girl I loved or thought I did. That fall riding home from Dave's in the dark across the Catholic school parking lot, not paying attention, I rode right into the back of a parked car. It threw me unhurt for the most part up on the back of the car. The bike was hurt worse. It bent the frame and fork so badly that the wheel hit the down tube and a horozontal pedal was almost out to the hub of the front wheel.  Took to the bike store that was in the West Fullerton shopping center and he said unfixable, but he'd take in trade, went home, talked and talked, and was soon riding a new blue Bianchi. I rode that puppy for years, mistreated it, left it under the eaves in the rain, but you couldn't kill it. Dave like most guys back then got into cars, as did I, but I continued riding my bike. Whenever I was between cars, often in those days, that's how I got around. But this was long before it became fashionable.  Finally when I was 22 or 23 I parked it in front of the post office on Commonwealth near Lemon in Fullerton and went in to check my PO box.  When I came out the Bianch was gone, stolen.  I got home, walked or cadged rides, eventually got another car, then another... Finally went into a bike shop over by the college, on Placentia I think, and bought a Schwinn Sports Tourer, a bike I didn't know how special it was for years after I sold it, I learned it on line fairly recently in fact.  Rode it, sold my car a 69 Mustang Mach I, rode the bike full time as my only transportation, slowly converted it to full Campy, even had sewups on it for awhile. Then broke my ankle, as described above. Bought bikes, thought about getting back into riding, but they hung from the ceiling in the garage. Finally in the last couple years rode a little, but Italian racing frames are not as comfortable for a 60ish body, hence the Jamis.  A side benefit is it's dimensions and ride are similar to my Sports Tourer of years ago.

Lee Murray