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Out on a Limb – Shirley MacLaine
I lowered the lights in my living room. The ocean tumbled gently outside. I put the tape recorder on, and asked Kevin if he needed anything.

"No," he answered, -I think I’ll be going out now."

"Okay," I said, 'I'll be here."

'Right," said Kevin. "See you in a while then."

He leaned back, placed his hands over his chest and crossed them. He closed his eyes. I moved the tape recorder closer to him. Slowly he began to breathe deeply. I waited. He sat still for about three minutes and breathed even more deeply. Then very gently hit head toppled forward onto his chest and a catch spluttered slightly in his throat. His head straightened up and cocked to one side. About thirty more seconds elapsed. Then he opened his mouth and his body shuddered. His breathing changed rhythm. Slowly his mouth transposed into a smooth smile. His eyebrows lifted, giving his facial expression one of momentary surprise. His hands moved to the arm rests. In a raspy whisper which didn’t sound in Kevin s vocal range, I heard,

"Hail. I'm John. Greetings. Please identify yourself and state purpose of gathering."

I cleared my throat and shifted onto the floor next to Kevin's chair.

"Yes," I began, "my name is Shirley Maclaine. I am from Richmond, Virginia, in the United States, but I am speaking to you from Malibu, California, I am a performer who also writes, and I can't really say why I'm here."

“As such," said the Voice. As such. . . I guessed that meant okay. I remembered Kevin had said one of the spiritual entities spoke in a biblical lingo.

"'We are taken to find ye have investigations. We sense your vibrational condition as such and have familiarity with it." There was a pause as though he was waiting for me to ask a question or say something. I didn't know where to begin.

"Yes," I said, "well, could you tell me please who 'we' might be?"

'As such," he said, "we are those who have known ye in lives past."

He startled me. "You people have known me in past lives?"

“As such."

“Are you my spiritual guides then? Is that why I am here?"

“As such."

"Oh, I see," I said inaccurately. He went on.

"To understand yourself now you must understand that you are more than what you seem now. The sum of your talents, the sum of your feelings, are those which ye have experienced before. . . and all that ye are is part of the oneness of all. Is that to your understanding?"

I squirmed around on my carpet. Didn't everyone have certain talents, feelings, and thoughts which did not correspond to present life experience?

"Excuse me," I said, "on what do you base your information either about me or anything cosmic?"

With barely a pause he said, "On that which ye would term the Akashic Records."

He stopped as though I should be thoroughly acquainted with his references. He seemed so distant, so pseudo-Biblical. I felt detached. "Ye are taken to find that Akasha is that which ye might term the collective unconscious of mankind, stored in ethereal energy. This energy could be termed as the mind of God. Ye are taken to find that communication of said ideas is difficult given the limited dimension of language."

"Yes," I said, "I can see what you mean. And while we're at it, why do you speak the way you do?"

There was a pause. Then he said, "I will endeavour to bring my language more up to date, as you would term it." He went on immediately, "This stored energy called the Akashic Records is as vast scrolls housed in vast libraries. You, as an individual, would be thought of as a single scroll within the libraries, or as a single soul within the mind of God."

"Excuse me," I said. "Isn't what you are saying just a little too simple?"

“All truth is not so much simple as it, is designed to be easily revealed."

“Well, if it's so easily revealed, why don't we know it?" I asked.

"Man refuses to accept that he is in possession of all truth and has been from the beginning of time and space. Man refuses to accept responsibility for himself. Man is the co-creator with God of the cosmos." –

No, I thought, in the church we are taught that God created everything. But "John" was plowing on.

“Only when man accepts that he is part of the truth he is seeking, are the truths themselves apparent."

"So you’re saying that if I understand myself and where I come from, I will understand everything?"

"Correct," he said.

"Well," I said, "I've never really been sure there is such a thing as God until maybe lately. With what's going on in the world, why should anyone believe in God?"

"You are saying," he asked, "that you need proof of your own existence?"

'Well, I don't know what you mean. No, I’m sure I exist. Yes."

"You have a mind?"

"Of course."

"The mind is a reflection of the soul. The soul is a reflection of God. The soul and God are eternal and unto each other."

"So you mean if I'm to understand what this God thing is, I must know myself?"

"Correct," he said, "your soul is a metaphor for God."

"Huh? Wait a minute," I said. "I can't prove either one-soul or God. I don't mean to be disrespectful, but that's a tricky way of confirming that there's a soul."

"Tricks," he said, "are a game of mankind, not of God."

I felt strangely embarrassed. "Well, I could become very arrogant if I really believed I was a metaphor for God."

"Never," he said, "never confuse the path you take with the truth itself."

I felt slightly shamed. I waited for him to say something else.

"Pause," he said, "another entity is desiring to speak."

"What?"

Kevin shifted his position in his chair. His arms rearranged themselves. His head swiveled to the other side. He covered his face for a moment and then crossed one leg over the other. I got up on my knees trying to understand what was going on.