I offer the following only as my experience, because it is a great comfort to me, and, I hope, to others...”

Martyrs For Peace

I offer the following only as my experience, because it is a great comfort to me, and, I hope, to others.

On Tuesday morning, Sept. 11, I was awakened at 6:00 AM (PDT) by the telephone. The call didn't last long. Since it was already dawning, I knew I'd need a little help to get back to sleep, which I needed badly because I'd been up late the night before. So I turned on the TV, figuring I'd get something innocuous to lull me back to sleep. The TV was on NBC, and before I could change the channel, I saw what must have been an instant replay of the second jet hitting the WTC. My first thought was, "Is this some kind of weird movie?" and then I noticed the NBC logo on-screen, and thought, "Oh, my God, this is real!" I then sat transfixed for the next couple of hours, barely able to absorb the horror of what was happening.

I began to get restless; something else was going on. About 9:30, when I couldn't take it any more, I decided to get my morning exercise. My guides, however, had other ideas, metaphorically tapping me on the shoulder, bugging me to meditate. I asked them, "Can't it wait till I'm done walking?"

"NO! Meditate now!'

"Okay, I get it," I replied, and lay down to meditate. No sooner had I closed my eyes and said my standard prayers than I found myself in this... *place*. It was all white. I can't call it a room exactly, because it didn't have a floor or walls or ceiling. It was more like being inside a white balloon with a flat bottom. And it was crowded! Thousands of people, both sexes, though slightly more men than women, all races and ethnicities, mostly ages 20-60, though I did see one child. I can't say that I got a good look at each person; it was as if I were sitting on someone's shoulders temporarily so I could scan the crowd. The mood was mostly bewilderment or confusion: "Where am I?" "What is this place?" "What am I doing here?" A few people seemed very calm, and a few others were crying or scared. But most were just confused.

Then I "knew" that my job was to explain to people that they were dead, but they were fine, and were supposed to go through a door off to my left at 45 degrees to get "processed". The door was open, the frame was very ordinary, like the interior door of a house, and through the doorway, all I could see was a radiating light.

I tried doing this one on one, which was fine, but I was in despair over how slow it would be. I tried making a general announcement, but no one paid any attention. Then I tried small groups, and that worked best. When I explained to people that they were dead, they would generally think something along the lines of "Oh, no, my family!", but I had to tell them that they had to "get processed" before they could go help their families.

As I was doing this, I was told that each of them was a martyr for peace, that each had chosen, at a soul level, to take part in this, and that each would be coming back to help with the cause of peace, either with a body or without. I believe this, because in talking with many people in the New York metro area, I heard quite a number of stories of people missing the train, or a bus being late, or a meeting rescheduled, etc., each of which may have saved the life of the person concerned.

I was also told that, in the very long run, this event could be seen to have ushered in a greater peace, and thus be both a terrible and good thing.

In love and light,

Hollis

PS - Feel free to send this on. If you do, please send it in its entirety, with attribution.