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Spirit Faces

                        Mark Macy



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Copyright © 2001 by Mark Macy





             A miracle of profound possibilities was brought to Earth in the closing years of the Twentieth Century, as people in various countries began to receive information through their televisions, telephones, radios and computers from spirit colleagues. With the support of ethereal beings, or angels, an international team of scientists and researchers came together to nurture the development of instrumental transcommunication (ITC), under an umbrella of love and morality. Properly nurtured, the miracle could bring reassurance and understanding to our troubled world as we step into a new millennium.

            But alas, negative human tendencies began to leak into the work, threatening to destroy the miracle and to trap humanity in its present state of uncertainty. The researchers must find a way to remove the threat.

            Miracles in the Storm is a factual account of the author’s role in sustaining the international, interdimensional research and documenting the amazing results over a nine-year period. During that time, he and his colleagues worked alongside some of the most powerful forces of Light involved with our world, and they confronted various influences of negativity and darkness on both sides of the veil which nearly destroyed their valuable work.

            Miracles in the Storm is the first book that takes a close, compelling look at the fragile, young field of ITC research from the eye of the storm that nearly tore it apart. Since 1991 the author has been a key figure in world ITC—documenting the results of the most prolific receivers of ITC contacts, funding and organizing annual research seminars on both sides of the Atlantic, and opening the first enhanced ITC bridge in the States.

Currently, in the year 2000, the author is experiencing unprecedented miracles in his lab as he completes this book. The miracles include color images of spirit beings on a reliable basis and steady improvement of radio contacts toward loud, clear dialog. The book could play an important part in the resurrection of world ITC by putting things into clearer perspective. That is the author’s hope.



Chapter One

Thunder and rainbows


The storm, March 5, 1998

            This was NOT a pleasant phone call. I glanced out the window. The moon was moving behind a cloud and the trees were waving their branches wildly as winds from the north brought a chill to the air.

            “I’ll tell you something, Mark, you need to get some advice, and I’m talking about legal advice,” said Dale Palmer.

            He was telling me to get a good lawyer! An uneasiness stirred in the pit of my stomach; I sensed a battle coming. “Why do you say that?” I asked.

            “I think you’re terribly naive sometimes,” Palmer replied. “When you get stuff like that, and you reproduce that, and you send it through the United States mail, and then you use that to raise money, do you know what they call that in the United States, Mark?”

            Was he accusing me of fraud? I couldn’t believe it. Dale Palmer was a lawyer—a retired district attorney for the State of Indiana. The job of a DA is to prosecute criminals, and I was starting to feel like a criminal, even though I knew I’d done nothing wrong.

            I’m involved in a controversial field of communication research called ITC, or instrumental transcommunication. It’s not your normal, everyday type of communication; it involves the use of technical instruments to get information from the worlds of spirit in the form of voices, images and text. Effectively, my fellow researchers and I are in contact with departed colleagues and loved ones by various means—primarily telephone, radio, television, computer, and camera.

            At the time of my phone conversation with Dale Palmer, I was part of a group of scientists and researchers calling ourselves INIT (the International Network for Instrumental Transcommunication), and we were dedicated to the spread of ITC around the world in an ethical way. I was in charge of compiling the contacts from the various research stations and publishing them in a journal.

            Now Palmer seemed to me to be suggesting that my journal carried false information. I wondered if he really believed that, or if it was just a case of sour grapes. He had been voted into our research group a couple of years earlier, then was asked to leave a couple of months ago as a terrible conflict raged among several members, including him.

            I didn’t like the idea of someone implying I was involved in fraud, but ITC researchers such as myself had heard empty accusations before, and we would likely hear them again and again until the notion of ITC became more widely accepted. It was a real mind-boggler to many people—the idea that we were talking, as some would say, to “dead people” on the phone. Still, hearing those words coming from Dale Palmer—a man I’d considered a friend and colleague—was especially troubling. I thought he really should have known better.

            Palmer’s main contention seemed to be with the research results of a European couple who were friends and colleagues of mine at that time—Maggy and Jules Harsch-Fischbach of Luxembourg. Maggy was reporting by far the most miraculous contacts in the world. She was enjoying not just phone conversations, but also computer contacts, voices through radio speakers, images flashing across TV screens, and even FAXes—all purportedly coming from sources beyond the Earth.

            Palmer said, “One of the things that bothers me a great deal is that you really don’t know whether this dialog that’s coming out of Luxembourg is valid or not, and yet you reproduce that and send it out to hundreds of people.”

            I asked, “You’re referring to the contacts they receive?”

            “The contacts they SAY they receive,” he replied. Again, it seemed to me he was suggesting my friends were involved in some kind of a hoax, which I knew was not true.

            “Of course they’re valid...!” I said, and I explained in some detail why I believed the contacts of Maggy Harsch-Fischbach were valid.

            I was not alone in that belief. Many other discerning researchers and scientists who had witnessed the couple’s miraculous experiments had walked away believing that amazing and wonderful things were underway in this the life of this woman who woman’s life. claimed to be in touch with “Timestream,” a team of several thousand spirit beings who worked with the support and guidance of angelic beings to choreograph contacts with the Earth. Palmer had never witnessed those Maggy’s experiments, so if he was skeptical, as he seemed to me to be, then perhaps his skepticism was understandable.

            I thought that if we could now go our separate ways in peace, that would be fine. But it was not to be. We debated for more than an hour. I felt like a falsely accused criminal, defending the legitimacy of the research and the character of my friends and colleagues against what seemed to me like a pointed attack. When our conversation ended, neither of us having budged on our positions, I placed the receiver back on the hook and shook my head.

            It was dark and still outside now, but the rumble of distant thunder could be heard. A storm was approaching.


            Our story begins a decade earlier—a time when the world was preparing for a spiritual renaissance. In the 1980s, a few scientists and researchers claimed to be enjoying long dialogs with spirit colleagues by telephone and radio, and they began to report images from Beyond through TVs and computers. Those events apparently were being made possible by the collaboration of ethereal beings, or angels, and I have to make it clear that they were miracles, not phenomena.

            Phenomena and miracles are those extraordinary things that happen in our world which can be observed, but not necessarily understood. Nor can phenomena and miracles be explained completely by conventional science, as a rule. According to Webster’s Dictionary, what sets miracles apart from phenomena is divine intervention. Miracles involve the influences of higher spiritual powers.


            Back in the 1980s when all those miracles began, I didn’t believe in any sort of higher spiritual powers, so I would have rejected such claims outright. Now, as I write this book, having been immersed in this new field of spirit communication through technology for more than a decade, not only do I KNOW the miracles are genuine, but I believe that those same miracles could conceivably usher our world into a whole new era of peace and understanding as we enter a new century. We could be on the threshold of a complete spiritual transformation. That’s how I see things today.

            In the late 1980s it was a different story. I was on the threshold of my own spiritual transformation at that time, and spirit communication was the farthest thing from my mind.


Healing the world and me, late 1980s

            In the fall of 1987 I started to feel occasional twinges just below my ribcage on the left side. I hardly noticed them at first and paid little attention. One evening after dinner I was relaxing on the couch when one of the twinges occurred, and I mentioned it for the first time to my wife, Regina, who was still at the table going through the mail.

            “There it goes again,” I said with mild surprise.

            “What’s that, honey?” she asked.

            “I’ve been having these strange little feelings lately,” I replied, rubbing my upper abdomen.

            “You mean like butterflies?”

            “Not really. . .”


            “No,” I said, “I get a little twinge now and then. It’s like something is grabbing me from the inside.”

            “Maybe you’re pregnant,” she joked. I smiled. Then, more seriously she said, “Maybe you should go see a doctor.”

            “No, I’m sure it’s nothing.”

            Looking back now, I realize the twinges were like that pesky little voice in Field of Dreams that kept telling Kevin Costner, “Build it, and they will come.” The voice whispering to me was more ominous, and I believe it was saying something like, “Time is short. Find the path.”

            I started having strange dreams at that point in my life too. In one dream that was especially vivid, I was in a large building with offices, conference rooms, and a large theater. A lot of people, some with familiar faces, were busy performing various technical tasks. As I came into their presence they would look at me, and although we said nothing, I knew what they were thinking, and they knew what I was thinking. They were wondering why I was there. We all knew I was an outsider, and I had a feeling that I was supposed to give a talk or presentation in one of the conference rooms, so I started wandering about, trying to find it, encountering people along the way, all of whom regarded me as a visitor. Then I woke up with a confused, why-am-I-here, what-am-I-supposed-to-be-doing sort of feeling.

            I had been a technical writer for more than a decade, working with computer programmers and engineers in high-tech corporations. It brought in a good, steady income, but lately I had been growing weary of that career. I assumed the dream had something to do with my mixed feelings about technical writing, since some of the people in the dream reminded me of engineers I’d been working with.

            In another lucid dream I was among a small group of people standing around a shoebox-sized electronic device sitting on a table. Two transparent cables were attached to the device, and rainbow-colored light was streaming to and from the unit through the cables. I leaned forward to get a closer look, resting my hands on the table, and they stuck there. It felt as though my hands were glued or powerfully magnetized, fixed solidly to the table.

            I exclaimed, “Wow! These are no ordinary energies!”

            The others all glanced at me with looks on their faces that could best be interpreted as, “Well, duh.” Again, I felt like an outsider.

            At the time I could only guess at the meaning behind those and many other strange dreams having to do with busy, high-tech places, but eventually it would be made clear to me that I was being recruited and trained at some subconscious, spiritual level for a project that would bring me closer in line with my life’s purpose.

            As months passed, the twinges beneath my ribcage slowly grew into spasms that felt like someone was reaching inside of me to give a firm twist to the muscles and ligaments. It was a strange feeling but not painful, so having no prior experience with serious illness, I wasn’t worried. I didn’t know about the malignant tumor that had been growing in my colon, probably for more than a year, and now must have been about the size of a child’s fist. I had cancer and didn’t know it yet.

            At that time I was deeply immersed in a book project. Whenever I wasn’t at the office writing technical manuals, I was usually at home or in a forest cabin somewhere laboring on a series of books—typing at the computer or talking on the phone. I was contacting bright, innovative people from around the globe, discussing the world situation with them, and gathering their best ideas for achieving sustained peace, prosperity, and happiness in the world. I was contacting those people with letters and phone calls, and I was publishing the results of our discussions and correspondence in a series of books.

            My colleagues came from all corners of the world:

-      Dutch economist and Nobel laureate Jan Tinbergen offered a revolutionary solution as to who in the world—at what level of government or society, from the personal level to the global—should be deciding what. Professor Tinbergen suggested that every decision should be made at the lowest possible level, but high enough so that the interests of everyone affected by the decision are represented fairly. The idea that one overall leader or one overall government could effectively run society like a puppetmaster was dangerously naive. The notion that an unregulated group of people, left to their own devices, could achieve any semblance of order in today’s world, was also dangerously naive.

-      Futurist Hazel Henderson of Florida warned that the world economy was flying blind and would eventually crash if outdated economic indicators in use today (such as Gross National Product) were not replaced by more modern tools such as environmental impact statements and cross-impact studies.

-      UN Assistant Secretary-General Robert Muller provided blueprints for an overhaul in global education, noting that the four elements of human nature, in descending order of importance, are the spiritual, social, mental and physical elements, but western education virtually ignores the two most important elements—the human spirit and appropriate social interactions! An immersion in spiritual understanding would be the most important step toward a healthy future.

-      Physician Bernie Siegel isolated love as the most potent healing agent not only for cancer patients, but maybe for a troubled world as well.

-      Two Chinese population officials reported in great detail how good planning would bring their crowded country into a new era with a flourishing social structure and economy, and how a good population plan could do the same for other struggling countries. The article suggested that appropriate regulation at all levels of society could help to ensure right moral decisions among individuals and groups.

            Scores of authors from scores of countries provided thoughtful solutions for our troubled world. For me, one of the most memorable authors was Dr Willis Harman, president of the Institute of Noetic Sciences (IONS). IONS was one of the best-known research facilities involved in what might be called the “frontier sciences,” especially such areas as consciousness study and energy healing. Conventional scientists ignored those subjects because there were no instruments or concepts with which to observe and measure them, but frontier scientists like Willis Harman knew that those troublesome issues would have to be patched into the scientific worldview eventually—and the sooner the better.

            When I initially contacted Dr Harman by phone and told him I would like to include some of his ideas in a book, he expressed interest. “Can you tell me a little bit more about the project?” he asked.

            “Okay.” I paused for a moment to gather my thoughts. “I want to create a series of books that take a fresh look at the world situation and help to create a better way of looking at things.”

            “That’s a pretty broad field,” he chuckled. “Can you be a little more specific, or narrow it down a bit?”

            “What I’m really looking for are a few key principles of health and happiness that apply to all levels of humanity, from the personal to the global.”

            I had read a number of his articles in various journals, and I felt confident that a project of this type would be right down his alley. I asked if he would write a chapter for the book, and he agreed. Willis Harman’s chapter was built around the idea that the most profound changes in history come about not when a few leaders made big decisions, but when vast numbers of people changed their minds just a little bit. (A decade later, with any luck, I would try to put that theory to the test with this book.)

            A highly regarded scientist, Willis Harman was the founder of the Futures Research Group at the Stanford Research Institute, a famous think tank in California. He had become a champion in applying steady pressure on conventional science to broaden its worldview, and though he rarely used the word “spirit” in his writing, what he was doing, as I would determine later, was building a bridge between science and spirit. His article was a cornerstone of my first book in the series, Solutions for a Troubled World.


To the threshold of death, the summer of 1988

            The gruesome details leading up to my rush to the hospital in July 1988 and the persistent efforts of the staff to get me, bloated, groaning and greenish in hue, to grope my way through a series of tests, are better left to myself.

            They finally found the tumor, by then the size of a baseball, completely blocking the colon. It was removed along with much of the surrounding tissue, leaving me (as a writer, I found it ironic) with a semicolon.

            My surgeon, John Day, was familiar with my recent book. When he visited me in my hospital room after the surgery, he said, “Mark, you better heal yourself before you try to heal the world.”

            At first I balked at the suggestion that I had some sort of flaws that needed healing, but as the weeks and months passed, I took his advice to heart. I’d always had a difficult time with addictive substances, but now I decided to give up alcohol, nicotine and caffeine completely until I was fully recovered. I made appointments with a nutritionist who convinced me to acquire a taste for greens, grains and legumes; a deep body masseuse who dug way down into my muscles and connective tissues to release tensions that had been buried since childhood; a spiritual career counselor who tapped into my spirit guides to see what kind of work I REALLY wanted to do in life; and a psychologist who helped me dredge up and heal old childhood wounds. A lot of the things these professionals were doing to me were completely alien to me, but I decided to go along for the ride, even if I didn’t understand at the time. It was like a journey into the unknown aboard a mystery train.

            Regina would support me, even guide me to some degree, in my arduous transformative healing. She had been through serious healing cycles in her own life before I’d met her, and so she had deep empathy for my pains. Also, she knew that the processes would bring me greater balance of body, mind, and spirit, and that would strengthen our family considerably.

            It all began on the morning she drove me home from the hospital. I’ll never forget her words.

            “Mark, you know I love you, and our marriage is the most important thing in my life, but if you need to get away for awhile, I’ll understand. Even if you decide that marriage is not...”

            I knew what she was going to say, and I didn’t want to hear it. It was obvious to me that she had cried a lot in the past few days, and maybe even blamed herself unjustly at some level for my illness. Apparently her tears of the previous days allowed her now to say all that without wavering. So it was my turn.

            “Let’s just go home so I can heal,” I interrupted, my voice shaky. I looked out the window so she wouldn’t see the tears streaming down my cheeks. They mixed with her brave words and formed a cement that would hold our marriage together through the challenging times that lay ahead.


Clearing my spiritual path, the early 1990s

            Eventually my agnosticism would slowly fade away while firm beliefs in God and spirit would ease their way into my life, but it would be a long and formidable process. The two techniques that would take me for a quantum leap in my spiritual search, as well as in my healing, would be breathwork to release blockages, and heart meditation to find that place of peace within.

            I was typical of many men: Throughout most of my adult life I had difficulty trying to express emotions. I kept things bottled up inside. Breathwork involved lying on my back with feet flat on the floor and knees up, breathing as quickly and as deeply as I could. After about five minutes, the breathing would take on a life of its own, and in ten or twenty minutes intense, long-buried emotions would start to pour out. The tears, the rage and the intense resentment from long-forgotten situations startled me at first, but the more I did this breathwork process, the more welcome they became, because very often when the process was finished I felt as though a ten-ton weight had been lifted off my mind and spirit! All my organs and tissues were completely relaxed. If I had trouble sleeping on a particular night, a session of breathwork would let me fall into a deep slumber.

            Heart meditation came later. I learned to clear my mind and focus my awareness on the seven chakras, or energy centers, that are located in a line from the top of the head to the tailbone. I wouldn’t just stay in my head thinking about each chakra; I would actually move my self, my awareness, so that it felt as though I were thinking from that energy center instead of from the brain.

            Being present in each separate chakra had unique sensations, but the most profound experience for me was to move into my heart and remain there, sometimes for an hour or longer. For centuries, mystics have called the heart the seat of the human soul. I was learning from my research that the soul is a piece of God, or the sacred source, so it stood to reason that if I stayed in my heart I would be as close as possible to a complete oneness with God. That seemed to be the case as my body would go through a series of gentle jerks as though I had been plugged into some form of pleasurable electricity. The more I did my heart meditations, the more blissful and less stressful became my life.

            As I did breathwork and heart meditations on a fairly regular basis over a period of several years, my life came into greater balance than I could ever have hoped a decade earlier. I found happiness that I thought was reserved only for others. Negative spiritual influences would seem to be repelled by the positive feelings that were becoming a constant part of my life.

            But that process would take several years. Meanwhile, early in my recovery stages my psychologist showed me a book by Dr. Stephen Levine, titled Healing Into Life and Death to see if I wanted to read it, and I think he was surprised by my reaction.

            “What the hell is that?” I demanded. “A book on dying? Who said I’m going to die? Where do you get off suggesting I read a book on how to die!”

            I was just starting to tap into my emotions after many years of repression, so I was still a little clumsy at it. The psychologist seemed to understand. He put the book away and I never saw it again. It’s too bad my fear of death was so strong; I learned later that it is an excellent book, and I would have benefitted from reading it at that point in my life.

            When you’re gripped by a chronic fear of death, it creates many imbalances in your life. As months passed after the removal of the malignant tumor from my colon, I came to realize that I was in a quandary; my mind was entwined with my body, and it assumed that the body was the source of life and security. If the body died, the life and security would be gone. That’s what I had always believed, but as months passed I realized I would have to question that belief if I wanted to come to terms with my fears. If there were a higher spiritual self within me, as many people suggested, it was apparent that I had somehow severed ties with it. I was living in a society whose collective worldview had been reduced by science to a comprehensible picture of material existence. What if there were more to the picture than just the material world? What if we, as a society, had severed ties with a higher reality?

            Those questions began to consume me as I healed. But the biggest question of all was, What happens to us after we die? For I now had a personal, immediate stake in the answer to that question.

            I started reading books that approached the subject from various angles—Christian, Buddhist, metaphysical, and Yogic—but nothing resonated within me. All these explanations, while appealing, seemed like wishful thinking, and I couldn’t buy them. They all required faith, but what I needed was hard evidence.


Meeting my spiritual mentor, the autumn of 1991

            I was still a recovering agnostic in search of meaning in this fleeting life on Earth. I WANTed to believe in life after death, but the whole notion seemed like wishful thinking to me. Those who believed in it—regardless of whether they were Christians, New-Agers, Moslems, Hindus or Buddhists—based their beliefs either on faith or on personal experience. I had never had an out-of-body experience, nor had any departed loved ones ever come to me in the middle of the night to stand smiling radiantly beside my bed to assure me that life goes on. I had read about such experiences, and I WANTed to believe them all, but a skeptical little voice inside refused to take it on faith alone. I needed hard evidence.

            That’s when I crossed paths with George W. Meek. George was a retired industrialist who had revolutionized the air-conditioning industry and had made a small fortune on a series of patents. With a commanding presence at six-foot-three, he possessed a powerful intentionality that was apparent whether watching him march straight to the podium for a speech or whether observing him quickly chunk down a complex research project into tasks that he could delegate to his staff. Like all men of good character, George had learned to still that little inner voice that advocates bad choices from day to day, until the voice had become weak and ineffective. He had learned to make the right choices again and again until they had become habit. I would get to know him well, and he would become a role model for me. Over the years his intentionality had shaped a comfortable and pleasant lifestyle for his family. It had also spurred the creation of the Metascience Foundation, Meek’s highly regarded, nonprofit enterprise to explore the human spirit from a scientific angle.

            As he had planned for many years, George retired on his sixtieth birthday to fulfill a life-long dream. He began traveling the world with his wife Jeannette to explore the deepest and richest spiritual truths hidden along the backroads of the Twentieth Century world. Something inside him was driving him to get to the bottom of life’s mysteries. He organized and funded research teams of medical doctors and scientists to travel to the forests of Southeast Asia, to crowded hospitals in China, and elsewhere to observe such phenomena as energy healing and the use of acupuncture as a sole painkiller during major surgery. He had written two pioneering books that had opened up new markets and blazed the way for a new breed of writers on spiritual matters. George Meek’s two break-out books were Healers and the Healing Process, published in the 1970s, and After We Die, What Then?, published in the 1980s.

            When I met George Meek in 1991, I was well on my way to healing from cancer. I was giving a small address to the International Association for New Science at their annual Fall conference in Fort Collins, Colorado. I was introducing principles of healing that could be applied at all levels of humanity, from the personal to the global. About 30 people attended my talk and found it interesting.

            George Meek delivered a keynote address which drew a standing ovation from a crowd of hundreds, and for good reason. He had come to the end of twenty years of tireless investigation into the true nature of man. He had traveled around the world forty times, and from his massive collection of research data he shared the kind of evidence that minds like mine were craving. His beloved wife Jeannette had died within the past year, and George had received a letter from her, via computer, which she had sent from her new home in the spirit worlds. She missed him and awaited his arrival in the coming years, but emphasized that there was no hurry. Life there was absolutely beautiful, she wrote, and she had much to keep her busy. It seemed that she had just arrived, and she was already acting as a guardian angel of kindness for victims of war—men, women and children who were coming across the veil in terror from the Persian Gulf Crisis. Jeannette’s job was to calm them and get them settled into their new lives. This was not just channeled information; it was the result of objective reports from a woman who had died, then found a way to deliver clear, unfiltered messages to her husband through a computer on Earth.

            The information in George Meek’s lecture resonated so deeply within me that I was overwhelmed. It was the kind of hard evidence I had been craving, and I sat with tears in my eyes through much of the presentation. Afterwards I approached the man and introduced myself.

            “Mr Meek, what you’re doing is amazing. It’s going to change the world!” I effused.

            With a little smile and knowing eyes, he said, “I think you’re right. At least I HOPE you’re right. The research is very important, but there are many obstacles standing in the way right now. We’ll just have to see how things unfold in the coming years.”

            I wanted to ask him about the obstacles—certainly they were not insurmountable!—but George Meek was a much sought-after man for the remainder of the conference, and I had no further opportunities to talk to him.

            I returned home from that conference a changed man. I immediately wrote a long letter to George Meek telling him of his profound effect on me. To my delight, he sent back a scrawled note along with a 90-minute cassette tape called “Spiricom.” I read the note, which stated, simply: “I’m glad you enjoyed my talk. I think you might enjoy this tape as well. Let me know.”

            The Spiricom tape contained the most incredible sounds I had ever heard in my life—two voices emanating out of a loud buzzing monotone. One voice was fairly clear; it was the voice of Meek’s colleague, Bill O’Neil. The other voice was hard to understand, and no wonder! It was the voice of a deceased man named Doc Mueller, a former NASA engineer. Somehow this “Spiricom” device was allowing O’Neil to converse with an invisible friend on a wide range of subjects.

            In one dialog, Doc Mueller was giving O’Neil technical advice on how to improve the Spiricom equipment: “William, I think the problem is an impedance mismatch into that third transistor.”

            O’Neil replied slowly, as though studying the circuitry. “Third transistor.”

            “Yes, the transistor that follows the input.”

“I don’t understand,” replied O’Neil.

            “The pre-amp, the pre-amp!” Doc Mueller stated emphatically.

            “Oh, the pre-amp.”

            “Yes, I think that can be corrected by introducing a one-hundred-fifty-ohm, half-watt resistor in parallel with a point-double-oh-four-seven microfarad ceramic capacitor. I think we can overcome that impedance mismatch.”

            Obviously baffled, O’Neil lamented, “Oh boy, I’ll have to get the schematics.”

            The Spiricom tape contained dozens of such high-tech dialogs between Heaven and Earth. I listened to the complete tape several times, and each time I felt my mind being stretched into new shapes and sizes, until this miraculous new information could fit in. After digesting the information, I placed a phone call to North Carolina.

            “Hello, this is George Meek,” said a voice that sounded warm and somewhat raspy with age.

            “Mr Meek, this is Mark Macy,” I began, “You probably don’t remember me, but...”

            “Oh yes, the fellow from Colorado. It’s good to put a voice with the letter I got from you two weeks ago. Did you receive the Spiricom tape? It should have arrived last week.”

            He had understandably forgotten about our brief encounter at the crowded New Sciences Conferences. Still, I wasn’t expecting such a sharp mind for an 80-year-old man! “That’s what I’m calling about,” I said. “That tape was the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard, and I want to thank you for sending it.”

            We talked for about twenty minutes. He seemed particularly interested in my writing background. Then he stunned me. “You know, Mark, I’ve been toying with the idea of starting a new research project, and I’d like to talk to you about it. Is there any chance you could come to Franklin for a few days?”

            Good thing I was sitting down. I exclaimed without hesitation, “I’d love to!” It was one of those rare occasions when I made a decision like that on the spot, without first consulting Regina.

            I had discussed this new technology with Regina quite a lot since the conference, and she had mixed feelings. On one hand, she could feel my excitement about this new spiritual connection I’d made, but on the other hand she sensed that it might not be a very high level of spiritual pursuit. She loved the idea of praying to Christ and God and soliciting help from compassionate spirit guides and guardian angels, but she didn’t seem that keen on the idea of collaborating with discarnate human beings. If the various aspects of my wife’s personality could have voted, I suspect they would have been about seventy-five percent in favor of my new interest, and about twenty-five percent opposed.


My private course in miracles

            Two weeks later I was sitting in George Meek’s living room. I had flown into Asheville, North Carolina, and rented a car for the ninety-minute drive through richly forested hills past mist-covered rivers to the town of Franklin. Now I was sitting face to face with the man whose ideas had changed my life, virtually overnight.

            George talked a lot about Jeannette. He obviously missed her very much. He said he still remembered their world travels together as though it were yesterday. Whenever they returned home from those trips, George said he would spend a lot of time in his lab doing experiments, for example capturing on film spiritual energies emanating from his physical body, or observing how his emotions could affect the growth of plants. The results of his plant experiments were especially fascinating. Plants which he lavished with love would flourish. Other plants were not so lucky. Early in their growth cycle he would threaten them with angry shouts while holding a hissing blowtorch menacingly in the air above his head. Those plants would grow weak and small.

            “I hope you didn’t do those experiments outside where the neighbors could see,” I quipped.

            George laughed. “They all know the sort of research I’m involved with. I don’t think it would have raised any eyebrows.”

            When the Meeks had moved to Franklin from Fort Myers, Florida, George had purchased a large tract of land on the side of a forested hill and developed it into a small housing subdivision. He dreamed that the research of his Metascience Foundation would burgeon in the coming years, and the cozy neighborhood would become a thriving community inhabited by his staff of scientists, spiritual adepts, engineers and researchers, all collaborating to uncover the mysteries of the human spirit.

            The dream only partially materialized, as human egos and troubled personalities chipped away at the Metascience projects to the point where George, advancing in years and his wife ailing, could no longer manage things. One by one he had sold the houses and the lots until, by the time I met him, his only property left on the hillside was the cozy house that he shared with his housekeeper Loree. A beautiful view of the Smoky Mountains rising through the mist to the northwest greeted George in the evenings on his front porch where he enjoyed glorious sunsets.

            Meek told me he had spent many hours in his large basement office piecing together roadmaps of the spirit worlds from the vast knowledge he had gained from his research. He had discovered that the actual locations of Heaven and Hell were not somewhere out there in distant space nor hidden away deep inside the Earth, but right here, all around us. He told me that mystics over the centuries have had an intimate knowledge of the fact that many universes interpenetrate our own physical universe, but they didn’t know how to explain it to the world; humanity until now had always lacked the technological background to understand how this interpenetration worked. Mystics would say simply that the path to God and higher spirit lies within, which makes no sense to most people, who would argue that the path within leads only to organs and tissues, blood and bones. Now George could employ our understanding of radio technologies and electromagnetic energies to explain the true location of the spirit worlds in a way that human beings alive today could easily understand.

            “Now, you know this room is filled with radio signals, right?” George quizzed me.

            “Of course,” I muttered. Just about everyone was aware nowadays that wherever you went in the world, hundreds of radio stations in the region were constantly broadcasting hundreds of radio signals through large transmitting antennas, and the signals in the form of vibrating energy were filling the air, getting all jumbled together, and passing through houses, trees, and other solid structures.

            “And you know that each signal remains distinct by its frequency. That’s why this radio can tune separately to each signal,” he added, pointing to the clock radio on the table beside him.

            “That’s right.”

            “Well, all the spiritual universes—and there are hundreds of them—they’re all sharing this space with our physical universe, like radio signals sharing this room.”

            I nodded silently, not wishing to interrupt.

            In a similar way, he explained, all the universes are “broadcast” by a central source which religions typically call “God” or “Allah” or “Yahweh” or “Brahman.” These universes are all jumbled together in the same space as they are sent out by God, yet each universe remains distinct by its frequency or rate of vibration. The frequencies of the spirit worlds are much finer than the energies we are familiar with here on Earth, such as electricity, radio signals, and light. Most of these spirit-world energies are imperceptible not only by our physical senses, but also by modern scientific equipment.

            “Hence Jesus’s passage in the Bible, ‘My Father’s house has many mansions,’“ George continued. “I learned about these interpenetrating worlds about thirty years ago. My first thought was, if we can use a radio to tune into each radio signal, maybe we could find a device that would let us tune into the spirit worlds and talk to their inhabitants. That’s how Spiricom came together.”

            According to George Meek’s model of the multidimensional universe, there are many, many levels of spiritual existence, from the rather dense astral planes which are a lot like the Earth, to the light, ethereal realms where angels and Light beings live a formless existence of pure, loving thought. Spiricom was in contact with the astral worlds where people from Earth wake up after they die. As such, those worlds are filled not only with the good qualities of mankind, but also with many of the troubled thoughtforms and strange behavior patterns that people from the Earth carry with them into the next life. So I asked George if he had ever thought about contacting the higher or finer spiritual worlds with technical equipment, where love and wisdom are the rule.

            “We tried for a few years after the Spiricom project,” George replied with a hint of disappointment still in his voice, “but nothing ever came of it.”

            He said it was called “Project Lifeline.” George had hired a staff of technical experts who had developed elaborate transmitting and receiving devices and antennas operating with the highest frequencies they could achieve, but they were unable to make spirit contact. He had employed an entire staff of psychic channels who used their mediumistic skills to get technical advice from the other side in developing the equipment, but to George’s great disappointment, no technical contacts were ever made. The only spirit communications received by Project Lifeline were boxes upon boxes of transcribed messages coming through the psychic channels.

            “There seemed to be limits as to how far into the spirit worlds we could reach with our electronic equipment and electromagnetic energies,” George said. “The only way we could tap those very light and subtle realms was with psychic channeling, and that method has its limitations.”

            Meek explained to me that psychic channeling involves a blending of minds of the spirit communicator and the human channel. As a result, the message received has been “filtered” by the mind of the channel. Very rarely does a message come through a human channel in a pure and unfiltered form. With ITC, on the other hand, messages from spirit can come through the equipment virtually unfiltered by the minds of the experimenters. So, ITC allows a more reliable means of communication with the worlds of spirit. Project Lifeline was an unsuccessful effort to tap into the highest spiritual levels with technical equipment.

            “That’s too bad,” I said philosophically. “There’s so much we could learn instantly if we could just talk to an angel.”

            “Interesting you should bring that up,” George said. “I have some colleagues in Europe who are doing just that.” He told me about a schoolteacher named Maggy Harsch-Fischbach whose research results in Luxembourg were causing quite a stir among those involved in spirit communication through technology. She and her husband Jules were in contact with a dedicated team of spirit colleagues calling themselves Timestream who had opened the communication channels wide. Timestream members were calling Maggy on the phone, speaking to her through radios, sending live, moving images of themselves and their world through her television, and lately even planting large files of text and images on the hard disk of her computer. It was all made possible by the intervention of highly intelligent, loving beings from light, ethereal realms of existence—angels.

            I felt tingles along my spine. If this were true, it would change the world! A team of highly competent spirit colleagues—folks who once had lived on Earth—called themselves “Timestream” and were working in close collaboration with angels to open communications with our world. My mind raced. Such communications would ease the suffering of those grieving over loved ones who had died. It would transform religions, replacing faith and belief with knowledge and understanding. It would allow science to move beyond its material-world confinements that have severely limited its vision since the days of Isaac Newton. It would allow humanity to get in direct touch with its ancestral roots. My mind was dashing from one possibility to the next as excitement welled up inside.

            “Follow me,” he said, pushing himself up slowly from his favorite chair in the living room. “I have something to show you.”

            He led the way down the stairs to the office, where he walked to a file cabinet, pulled open a drawer, and removed a large stack of papers. It was a series of rough translations of a research bulletin coming out of Luxembourg—the experimental results of Maggy Harsch-Fischbach. She seemed to be carrying on the legacy of George Meek’s Spiricom and Lifeline research, penetrating the finer dimensions of the spirit worlds with technology.

            I stayed up most of the night in my motel room, reading through the fascinating experiences of the Luxembourg schoolteacher whose part-time experiments had converted her home into what might well qualify as the eighth wonder of the world. The documents were works of art. Maggy herself had written them. Even after being translated from German to English, the words painted magical images, showed life from a heightened perspective, and stirred the hearts of readers like me. What an amazing person this Maggy Harsch-Fischbach must be. The miracles underway in her life were unprecedented, if the reports were true.

            The next day over breakfast, my incredulity was obvious as I recounted some of the things I’d read during the night. For example, the folks at Timestream claimed to be living in a riverine world very much like the Earth, complete with forests, waterways, and towns full of houses where the spirit people resided. They called their world “Marduk” and reported that it had three suns.

            At the breakfast table I shook my head and said with some exasperation, “George, I have friends and family members who are solid Christians. I’ve been telling them for years that I don’t believe in any sort of heaven, and they’ve gotten used to that. What do you think would happen if I changed my story now and start saying, ‘When people die, they don’t go to Heaven...they go to Marduk!’?”

            George chuckled but had no comment. He listened with mild amusement. He apparently enjoyed seeing my frustrating assimilation process going on. He’d no doubt observed it before with other colleagues and friends whose minds were being stretched by his research findings.

            I would learn some years later, through deeper research, that “Marduk” was not just some arbitary name pulled out of thin air. It was a crucial key for modern man in understanding his ancient heritage and his emergence on Earth. In time it would allow me a most amazing, wonderful and insightful view of mankind, but for now it would remain a funny-sounding name of a spirit world, nothing more.

            That was just one of many items in the Luxembourg reports that baffled me. There were others. In one transmission received in 1987, the Nineteenth Century English explorer Sir Richard Francis Burton had found his way to the Timestream Spirit Group at a time when the group had been displaced from their sending station—a high-tech communication center in the spirit worlds from which they made contact with ITC experimenters on Earth. The sending station had been wrestled away from the Timestream group by a negative spirit group calling itself Group 2105. The negative spirit group had been occupying the place, disrupting communications, and upsetting the Harsch-Fischbach couple until Burton and his new friends recaptured Timestream.

            “George, that sounds like something out of a science fiction novel. What do you make of it?” I asked.

            He laughed and replied, “You’ll find that a lot of the stuff they’re dealing with in Luxembourg sounds like science fiction.”

            “Are you sure it’s not just a hoax?”

            “To tell you the truth, I wasn’t sure what to believe until I visited the couple,” George said. He moved his gaze to the woods outside the window, and a thoughtful look came over his face as he remembered his experiences with the Harsch-Fischbachs.

            “I visited their lab in February of 1988. Well, it wasn’t really a lab; it was their living room. They had an old black-and-white TV set and a brand-new video camera set up, along with all the radio equipment they were using.”

            George said he had been traveling around Europe with Dr Ernst Senkowski, a retired physics professor from Mainz, Germany, and a well-known ITC expert who was a friend of the Harsch-Fischbachs. The two retired men had been visiting researchers in various countries, covering 2,000 miles in 50 hours. He laughed at the memory, “I don’t know how a couple of old guys like us did it. We hardly slept, and neither of us ever got tired!”

            I said nothing. It was my turn to listen and enjoy as George told his story:

   When he and Dr Senkowski arrived in Luxembourg on that winter day in 1988, the Harsch-Fischbachs told them that the TV they’d be using for experiments once belonged to Jules’s grandfather, but it had been sitting on a shelf in the closet for years, collecting dust. The spirit team had suggested they use that TV and a video camera during Meek’s visit. Jules and Maggy were skeptical. The TV had no antenna and didn’t function at all. They didn’t own a video camera, couldn’t afford to buy one, and wouldn’t know how to use it anyway. Still, Timestream told them to acquire a video camera, so they borrowed money from the bank and bought one the day before the two researchers arrived.

   Under the circumstances, by all rational thought, the couple should have been skeptical about getting any results with their visitors present that day, but they were accustomed to the miracles which their spirit friends were able to accomplish. They had come to realize that almost anything is possible if you keep your mind and heart open, have faith, and tap into the finer spiritual forces.

   The TV was plugged into the wall current, and when Jules turned it on, it worked. A screen full of “snow,” or static, appeared. The video camera was pointed at the TV. Moments after it was turned on, a three-second sequence of images flashed by on the screen: Mountains, a forest, a building, and most impressive, a couple walking hip-deep out into a lake or ocean—holding hands, then releasing hands, then joining hands again. A high-pitched voice, which Maggy said was the voice of an angel, broke through the TV static to announce the end of this successful experiment—the transmission of pictures “live” from the astral world Marduk.

            As Meek’s story ended, I asked him, “How did it feel to see history being made right there in front of you?”

            “It was humbling,” he replied quietly. Tears welled up in his eyes, and his voice broke as he said, “It was the culmination of all my years of research. My greatest dream was coming true right there in front of me.”

            We spent a lot of time talking about the Luxembourg miracles throughout the day, and that evening we decided we would try to arrange a visit with the Harsch-Fischbach couple. George and I decided we would be stronger if we joined forces, so the two of us established Continuing Life Research to explore consciousness and the afterlife. The new research firm would become the cornerstone of our collaborative efforts.

            In the coming weeks, George contacted the couple by letter and succeeded in finding a place in their busy schedule in the late summer of 1992, the same week that an esoteric conference was to be held in Dusseldorf, Germany. It would be my first trip to Europe, and it would be a busy one.


Getting started in Luxembourg, 1985

        It had all started for Maggy Harsch-Fischbach in 1985, a few years before my own life-changing experience had gotten underway. Maggy had been inspired by recent breakthroughs. The Spiricom experiments of George Meek and Bill O’Neil had ended in 1982. In 1983, a German experimenter named Hans-Otto Koenig had successfully demonstrated his “Ultrasound” device to an audience of millions during a live television show broadcast from Station RTL (Radio-Television Luxembourg). Koenig and the program’s host, Rainer Holbe, stood wide-eyed as loud, clear voices were conveyed through the device—voices that technicians and engineers could not explain by any normal means.

            Inspired by Meek and Koenig, Maggy had received her first tiny voices on tape right away, and before long a rather strong, high-pitched voice became an integral part of the work. It was a very precise voice, crisp and clear, and it announced the beginning and end of all the sessions. At times it would surprise Maggy with words of wisdom that suggested vast knowledge on a wide array of subjects—math, science, relationships, religion, history, and even events that were supposed to have occurred many thousands of years before recorded history. It soon became clear that he or she—the wise, incredibly knowledgable being behind the voice—not only was allowing Maggy to make unprecedented progress in the development of her ITC receiving station, but was actually guiding and protecting that development. Often Maggy would ask the brilliant being about himself, or herself, and over time she received the following information in reply:

            Our existence is beyond your comprehension. It’s easier for us to explain to you what we are not. We are not human, nor animal, nor male, nor female, nor Light being, nor, of course, God. There are seven of us, and although we are individual beings with individual natures, we are fused together. Many beings such as us live together closely in small groups, or clusters, as we exist in subtle realms where such boundaries as skin and ego, which separate physical beings in your world, do not exist. We are in ethereal realms of spacelessness and timelessness where beings who resonate with one another can join together in common existence, if they so choose. Many of the great beings who have walked your planet, such as Jesus Christ, Mohammed, and Gautama Buddha, return home to live in ethereal clusters in our realm which, from your perspective, is very close to God.

            Names are of no importance to us. As they are important to you, you may call me Technician, as my role in this project is that of a technician to facilitate contact between worlds. Our group you may call, simply, The Seven. We, The Seven, are assigned as a Gatekeeper between Heaven and Earth, between time and space. For us it is only an assignment, while from your perspective we have accompanied your world for many thousands of years.

            We have provided humanity with guidance and protection, and we have moved particularly close to the Earth during seven crucial periods of climactic growth, your current civilization being the seventh. We are here to assist you.

            There is a widely known picture in your world of two children crossing a bridge, accompanied by a being who protects them. That is our role in your work, but we have no wings.

            Maggy was in close cooperation with seven angels. As I would come to understand, it was her dedicated efforts, and especially her sincerity, which had attracted the help of this group of seven ethereal beings into her life and into her work at this pivotal point in the development of mankind. Apparently it was time for ITC to unfold in our world, and it would become evident to me later on that the home of Maggy and and her husband, Jules Harsch—who by now was working with Maggy in her experiments—had been selected as a sort of test site for the first fully functional ITC receiving station.


            Ethereal beings such as The Seven are the beings of love, compassion, and wisdom which people throughout history have reported encountering at key moments in their lives—so-called angels, or divine guardians. These are the beings who manifest miracles around the Earth. They have subtle, radiant bodies when they move in close to work with the Earth, emitting ribbons of rainbow light reminiscent of wings and ethereal robes.

            Ethereal beings can come into the lives of us humans at times when all shreds of deception and insincerity have been stripped away, such as in a time of severe crisis or during the moments before death of the physical body. Insincerity is alien to these beings, and it keeps them away.

            People who live in a sincere and trusting way on a daily basis, whether through inner work or by their basic nature, are blessed with ethereal presence. There is an aura of bliss around these individuals, and their lives are synchronistic; they seem always to be in the right place at the right time.

            Perhaps many years of teaching young children had helped to hone Maggy’s sincerity, thus allowing a group of these ethereal beings to commit themselves to assisting her efforts, and soon she was taking quantum leaps in ITC research. Strange beeps and whistles emanated from her radios, produced by spirit-world apparatuses. The music on a radio station would suddenly disappear, to be replaced by voices of departed loved ones and other helpful astral beings.

            These astral beings are the folks whom we sometimes call “spirits of the dead.” They inhabit our ancestral planes—the so-called “astral” regions of the spirit worlds where people still think and behave as they had on Earth. There are many astral realms ranging from the hellish to the divine, depending on the attitudes and thought patterns of the departed people who inhabit them.

            When people on Earth die and shed the physical body, they awaken in an astral body in an astral world. The new body is a replica of the body they had enjoyed in the prime of life—organ for organ, maybe even cell for cell—and their new world is very much like our world. The main difference is that everything is subtler, less dense, and easier to shape and change by intention. The astral planes, where most people wind up after death, are more of a paradise than is the Earth. Most of the astral beings are a bit more elevated than we physical beings, since some of our troubled emotional patterns and our conflicting personality quirks that make our lives difficult here on Earth are left behind when we die and move on to the next life.

            The ethereal beings are more elevated still, or of finer vibration, than the astral beings, who sometimes refer to their ethereal brethren as “rainbow people.” That seems to be an appropriate term, because when the ethereal beings show themselves in the astral worlds, they glow and pulsate in magnificent colors reminiscent of a rainbow.

            A team of astral beings—deceased relatives, scientists, celebrities and others—were coming together around the work of Maggy Harsch-Fischbach to assist in the new and exciting project of opening channels of communication with their old home, Earth. The group of seven ethereal beings were moving in also, to provide guidance and protection.

            As one of the rainbow people, the Technician, began to work directly with Maggy, the being’s high-pitched voice began to come through the radios to introduce all the sessions. The voice reflected incredible knowledge and wisdom about the equipment and this new communication process between Heaven and Earth.

            In a few short years, Maggy and Jules were capturing pictures from the spirit worlds on their television; long, clear messages were coming through their radios; and they would even get phone calls, usually from the researcher Konstantin Raudive, who had died in 1974.

            Konstantin Raudive had been a leading authority on spirit communication before his death, and he had chosen to continue the work from the other side of the veil. Now he was making it clear to Maggy through phone calls as well as through radio contacts that it was his calling to help open the doors of clear communication between Heaven and Earth.

            Konstantin Raudive and the higher beings soon began to stress to Maggy a message with growing urgency. The message was stated on various occasions with various wordings, and warned as follows:

            Humanity is at a crucial stage in its development. This is the seventh time that humanity has reached this crucial stage, and the results were devastating during the six preceding eras, some extending back in time far beyond recorded history. ITC is the most important means of waking the human consciousness out of its sleep, and in that way will play an important role in getting you through the coming “End Time,” but in order for ITC to further develop on Earth it must involve an effort of many unified minds representing many countries. It cannot be centered around any one country, and especially not around any one individual.

            So, the overall goal of ITC development was set: Researchers would be able to work miracles if they could learn to work together. A resonance among researchers on Earth would attract ethereal influence into the work.


Our extraterrestrial home; long, long ago

            If we could hop aboard a spaceship today and head away from the Earth and away from the sun, in a straight line through the orbits of the other planets in our solar system, we would first cross the orbit of Mars, then Jupiter, then Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto, then off we’d sail into “outer space.” We would face the most hazardous part of the journey in the large gap between Mars and Jupiter. Millions of rocks and boulders of various sizes form a belt between those two orbits and could easily rip open the side of any spacecraft trying to pass through.

            Astronomers have known of the presence of the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter for about 150 years, but why it’s there they can only speculate. Many scientists think the asteroids are debris left over from a former planet that circled the sun in an orbit between Mars and Jupiter—a planet that was somehow destroyed many thousands of years ago.

            Through ITC contacts we have been told that those scientists are correct; there was indeed a planet between Mars and Jupiter. It was called Marduk, and it was no ordinary planet. It was the jewel of the solar system, thriving with life and supporting a civilization that would make modern humanity seem like a pack of gifted apes by comparison.

            Our ITC contacts of recent years suggest that the people of Marduk enjoyed an Eden-like experience and a highly advanced culture in which science and technology far surpassed anything on Earth today. With an ability to move among worlds, the people of Marduk established colonies on nearby planets, including Earth.

            The destruction of Marduk and the fate of its marooned colonies provide a vital missing link to our understanding of the human heritage, which has been coming together like an elaborate puzzle through ITC contacts received in recent years. We are told that the trials and tribulations of the stranded survivors trying to carve a paradise in the primitive and barbaric environs of Planet Earth, comprise the true fall of Man.

            So our present story REALLY begins more than 25,000 years ago, when things were a lot different in our little corner of the physical universe.



2002 March 26

InnerSelf Magazine



Miracles in the Storm

by Mark H. Macy

Publisher: New American Library, a division of Penguin Putnam

Reviewed by Marie T. Russell 

 Have you seen the movie "Frequency" with Dennis Quaid  (released in 2000)? In this movie, father and son communicate across the barriers of time on a ham radio. When I saw the movie, I thoroughly enjoyed it, and having firm beliefs in life after death, and parallel lifetimes, etc., I had no problem believing the premise that communication with "the other  side" could happen through a ham radio or other electronic  device.

 A book came across my desk recently that stretched even  further my willingness to accept things that are not common in  our day-to-day lives. Miracles in the Storm tells of some people  all over the world talking to "the other side" through TVs,  computers, fax machines, radios, etc. It was definitely an  eye-opening book.

 While many of us have no problem believing that psychics and  trance-channelers can communicate with angels, spirit guides,  and deceased loved ones, we may have to stretch a bit more  to accept the possibility of these same etheric beings calling  us on the telephone, sending us a fax, or talking to us on our  TV (not through regular television programming).

 Mark Macy, author of Miracles in the Storm, recounts his  personal experiences and research, as well as those of people  in Europe and South America who are using ITC (Instrumental  Transcommunication) to receive messages and speak to  beings on the "other side" of the veil.

 The book is very informative, giving many examples and  testimonials of people who have experienced ITC, as well as a  history of the associations that were formed to promote and  research "electronic spiritual channeling".

 The information in this book opens up so many possibilities  and removes many of the limitations that we may have had --  that only "certain" people had the talent or abilities to speak  with Spirit Guides or to receive verbal guidance from the  deceased.

 For some people, this book may read like a science fiction. For  others, they will see a greater hope and wonderful possibilities  for accessing knowledge and wisdom that is ready and  waiting to be passed on to us, giving us greatly needed  council in helping heal ourselves and our world.

 As always, the old adage -- seek and ye shall find, ask and ye  shall be given -- encourages us to step beyond our limiting  beliefs and open ourselves to a whole new world of  possibilities.


Change The Way You View The World, January 23, 2002

Reviewer: A reader from Dallas, TX, USAIn Mark Macy's books, the author encourages us to stretch the "mental model" which we use to view the world(s) --- both our physical world and the spiritual world as well.

His previous book, Conversations Beyond The Light, documents the early miracles of Instrumental Transcommunication (ITC) ---contact between the two worlds made possible by using technical equipment.

Macy's latest release, Miracles In The Storm, provides further examples of spiritual contacts from the afterlife ("the other side".) Macy also details the frustrating inability to maintain a harmonic group of ITC researchers on THIS side.

I was fascinated by both books. Macy's insights into human nature combine with historical reporting of significant breakthroughs to provide a most enlightening experience.


If you are not familiar with the miracles of ITC, I recommend strongly that you read both Conversations Beyond The Light and Miracles in the Storm, and suggest you first read Conversations, to introduce you to ITC. The latest release, Miracles, deals more with the human failure to work harmoniously toward the common goal of ITC, despite good intentions, tireless efforts, and Macy's positive attitude.

If you spend any time thinking about what comes after death, you owe it to yourself to learn about ITC. These books have totally changed my outlook on what happens after the physical body dies.


It is entirely possible that ITC research can bridge the divide that Macy refers to as "the centuries-old chasm between science and spirit, between doubt and faith." Contacts ith the spirit world are now recorded on tape, film, and in computer files. The gap is arrowing, thanks to the work of Mark Macy and his colleagues.




Miracles in the Storm by Mark H. Macy

– just out, from New American Library, a division of Penguin Putman Inc.


When a publisher’s copy of Miracles in the Storm arrived in the post for review, I wasn’t expecting much from it. The subject does not interest me a great deal in itself – namely, ITC, instrumental transcommunication, “to get information directly from the worlds of spirit in the form of voices, images and texts”. Not that I doubt the evidence, which is considerable. Even though I also have evidence of my own, I couldn’t quite see the relevance. Until I read the book, that is.

I became totally engrossed in the fascinating account Mark Macy gives of how the ITC team here on earth have struggled to find the right balance between the trust and teamwork required of them by the group they are working with on the other side, called ‘Timestream’, and their desire for hard scientific ‘proof’ with which to wow the world. I should add that the Timestream group includes departed souls who once worked as empirical scientists on earth; however, these former scientists now have a clearer understanding of science as ‘knowing’ in the sense of embracing a truth, rather than trying to capture it.

Acceptable ‘proof’ of inter-dimensional communication has been the spin-off of experimenters like Macy having their hearts and minds open to Timestream. They have had remarkable communications from Timestream, whereas the results for the experimenters working outside the ITC network have mostly been meagre, even suspect (from shallow, callow sources on the other side), because of the experimenters' setting up their instruments to capture voices and pictures from the spirit world in a bell jar, literally and figuratively speaking, without proper regard for the source of the communications.

As Mark Macy writes in the Preface: “I can safely say that since I got involved in ITC in 1991, our spirit colleagues have always communicated with us in a reasonable, wise and empathetic manner. We humans come to trust the opinions of people on Earth who exhibit those qualities consistently over a long period of time, and it is natural, then, for us to extend the same trust to our spirit friends.”

ITC traces its history back to the ‘spiricon’ voice on tape experiments made by George Meek and Bill O’Neil in the United States in the 1970s. The contact centre then shifted to the home of Maggy Harsch-Fischbach and her husband Jules in Luxembourg. They had been inspired by the work of Meek and a German experimenter Hans-Otto Koenig to set up tape recorders in their home in 1985 and it was not long before they were recording communications from a group of departed souls from Earth, working under the guidance and protection of a delightfully wise and knowledgeable ethereal being.

The open-minded ITC experimenters have learnt that there are many, many levels of spiritual existence, from the rather dense astral planes that are a lot like the earth, to the light ethereal realms where angels and light being live a formless existence of pure, loving thought.

Maggie Harsch-Fischbach has often asked the brilliant being who guides the Timestream project about himself, or herself. Here is an excerpt from the information she received:

“Our existence is beyond your comprehension. It’s easier for us to explain to you what we are not. Not human, nor animal, nor male, nor female, nor light being, nor, of course, God. There are seven of us, and although we are individual beings with individual natures, we are fused together. Many beings such as we live together in small groups, or clusters, as we exist in subtle realms where such boundaries as skin and ego, which separate physical beings in your world, do not exist. We are in ethereal realms of spacelessness and timelessness where beings who resonate with one another can join together in common existence, if they so choose. Many of the great beings who have walked your planet, such as Jesus Christ, Mohammed and Gautama Buddha, return home to live in ethereal clusters in our realm, which, from your perspective, is very close to God.

“Names are of no importance to us. As they are important to you, you may call me Technician, as my role in this project is that of a technician to facilitate contact between worlds. Our group you may call simply, The Seven. We, the Seven, are assigned as a Gatekeeper between Heaven and Earth, between time and space. For us it is only an assignment, while from your perspective we have accompanied your world for many thousands of years. We have provided humanity with guidance and protection, and we have moved particularly close to the Earth during seven crucial periods of climactic growth, your current civilisation being the seventh. We are here to assist you.”

Do I accept this? “In my Father’s House are many mansions. I go to prepare a place for you.” “What is truth?” With these Biblical references in mind, I am drawn to ask, “What does it mean to be true to oneself?” And the answer for me is to be loyal to the relationships and path in life that one has chosen voluntarily, at the right time for choosing, around the age of 28 to 35. My chosen relationship is with the party surrounding Jesus – Peter particularly. It is a relationship that I have found to be open to all possibilities, including that of Jesus having come out of and returning to an ethereal diffusion that is as much home to Gautama the Buddha and Mohammed and the being who is known as Technician by the Timestream and ITC groups. They take etheric, astral and physical form when 'on assignment', with Jesus’ assignment as the Christ Messiah having been particularly difficult, because of its centrality in history, to draw history to a close, by allowing himself to be imaged on a cross, as a brother and friend. An image that is branded on all our souls, reaching deep into every nook and cranny of our all too human, compromised hearts. To awaken demons and enlighten hope.

Quite some sentences there. Never mind. I let them stand in the spirit of Christmas sharing. And balance them out with this insight into the new impulse that has been seeded in the human heart through quantum science, for a new beginning. It is drawn from an exchange between the German physicist Ernst Senkowski and a member of the audience during a presentation of ITC organised by Mark Macy:

“Matter and energy are not basic components of reality, as we have been taught," said Ernst Senkowsky: "They only exist in our minds, or call it spirit or consciousness. The modern term would be ‘information’. Matter, energy and everything else are special forms of ‘information.” A young woman stood up, “You mean reality is all in our head?” she asked, to get a laugh. “Obviously the world is not in our head,” replied Ernst. “It is part of the nonlocal mind. On the other hand, if we learned to ‘play’ with our minds, we could be wizards, creating and changing the things around us.”

That is what the new world order could be about. However, it requires cleared hearts and enlightened minds, which is what the now past age under the cross of terror and liberation has opened the way for, for peacemakers, not warmongers.

I want you to know that when reading Miracles in the Storm, at times it felt like I was holding light in my hands. Thank you Mark Macy, I was struck by the sincerity of your witness. And I read what you and your small ITC group were doing as tentatively branching out in an unfolding spiritual science, by which we will yet come to live in a resurrected world of love and truth and purity of heart.

The website for ITC is