After a two-year bout with increasing depression, I surrendered myself totally to God, not knowing or believing consciously in God-like casting oneself into an abyss of unknown. For six months following this surrender I simply lived without concern and worry or particular desire for anything, but awareness of my duties in caring for our children and other family activities.

At the end of the six months, my husband became quite ill and was hospitalized so that the demand on my energies was much greater than normal, yet there was no feeling at all of stress, rather more like a stimulant to keep all things running as smoothly and the children well cared for as possible.

One afternoon between two and three P.M, the house and surroundings were very quiet and sunny. I sat alone reading Peter Marshall's sermons, when one particular phrase mentioning the Pearl of Great Price took hold of a higher emotion. I felt it in the heart center like a white bird taking wing and flying upward through the head center. Somehow, I went completely with this feeling, and there was a rush of energy from the base of the spine flowing up through the center of the body and out the top of the head. It was like golden-white liquid light fire that does not burn.

It took no more than three seconds for this rush of light to envelop the body and "take" everything with it. It flowed out the top of the head and down over the whole body. I thought briefly "this is 'my cup runneth over' " before all-house, landscape, world, and universe-became this same light everywhere. No forms at all and no separation of being. All this oneness was God, without words.

I do not know how long it lasted, perhaps only five or ten minutes before a filtering-back-down process slowly proceeded, taking another few minutes. The first thing I was aware of was the phrase "All in One," and then the rest of the usual scenery and place was apparent again. I felt great joy, peacefulness and marvel at understanding through experiencing the basic divinity and unity of the entire creation, a blessing which by its nature desires to be shared and known by everyone.

The effect of lightness and transformation stayed on in diminishing degrees for several months, and the basic "contact" with God has never left. Not long after the experience (within the hour) I again felt such joy I said, "Soul, come forth," and a lovely rush of joy and lightness flowed up from the heart center to the head, making all the landscape look bright and shimmering (I was then driving a car and had to keep from losing that awareness, too). I had never read or heard of this experience before, but later read of similar ones in many books, largely Eastern philosophical ones.

Light in the Spirit
There is nothing new about this idea of music and light flooding all the interstices of the universe. Three thousand years B.C., we find this statement from the Bhaghavad Gita: "The glory and amazing splendor of this mighty being may be likened to the sun rising at once into the heavens with a thousand times more than usual brightness. ., ."¹⁰

According to Pythagoras, "There is One Universal Soul, diffused through all things, eternal, invisible, unchangeable; in essence like truth, in substance resembling light."

For a moment on the Mount of Transfiguration, three of Jesus' disciples were permitted to see the light energy that is the true building material of man:
And after six days, Jesus taketh with him, Peter, James, and John, and leadeth them up into the high mountain apart by themselves; and he was transfigured before them. And his raiment became shining, exceeding white as snow; so no fuller on earth can white them....^ll

Looking at these radiation phenomena from the vantage point of today's research, Dr. Donald Andrews informs us . . . the light streams into the person from all the organs and also from the universe and the different planets. It is also radiated outwards. The essence of the stars is in this room. The music is broadcast out in different wave lengths. Every heart beat and thought goes out as a wave into the universe. We are in contact with the Eternal, embraced by it and in it.^l2

Ervin Seale, in a recent lecture to New Thought students, gave definitions of Body, Mind, and Spirit.^l3 He envisaged the world as a realm of unity, proclaimed by all the great world religions. Out of this he saw a stepping-down of energies to the level of Mind, where for the first time, duality makes its appearance, in that we are dealing with both the universal and the individual minds. As these energies are stepped down still further, there is the appearance of the physical body.

In further unraveling these divine harmonies as they apply in the plant world, George Adams and Olive Whicher have done a masterful piece of work described in their book The Plant Between Sun and Earth. With the acknowledged help of leads provided by Goethe, they have discerned something of the great symmetry underlying plant structure and illustrated in geometric forms involved in the plant's growth patterns. Once again in this book we are conscious of the interplay of two worlds of energy: one, physical and "tangential," and the other, spiritual and "radial."

What is the magical secret which is spoken silently yet eloquently from the heart of every flower? Hidden in the undergrowth or flaunted high upon the hedgerow, a message is forever being sounded if we could but hear it-a thousand modulations of a mighty theme.... through the centuries, Nature-above all Plant Nature-has spoken to the heart of man. In the glory of color and individuality of form the plants speak. In the past, man listened to Nature as though in a dream; in recent centuries he has determined to become more consciously aware of her secrets.¹⁴

Following this thread from the plant life into the animal world, the research work done at Yale Medical School by Dr. H. S. Burr is particularly outstanding. He has made a study of energy fields of the animal world, noting that electromagnetic fields regularly determine the pattern of organization in biological systems. This being the case, certain parts of animals (including man) must carry a positive charge, whereas other parts must be negatively charged.

Dr. Burr proved this to be the case. Studying frog eggs, he found there was always one point on the egg where a higher potential difference could be registered. Keeping with this mark, it always turned out to be the point where the head was to appear. Thus he established the relation of the electrical field and the form and always found the field preceding the form.

Dr. Burr further discovered that in 90 percent of the cases, the right side of man's body carried a net positive charge, and the left a negative charge. The reverse was true in 10 percent of the cases. This, incidentally, was not correlated to right- or left-handedness.

The loss of our natural relationship to Nature has been a gradual result of the so-called progress of civilization. It seems to be the penalty of an overdevelopment of the personal ego that sees itself as existing by itself alone, in competition with Nature at large

In Tune with Nature
Through the ages there appear to be cycles of man living in very close contact with his environment, and then in times of isolation, each man fending for himself. This past century has been one of the latter periods. The physician and the priest have now long been separated. It has generally been forgotten that the father of medicine, Hippocrates, was a priest.

While not suggesting that priests start practicing medicine or that physicians take on ecclesiastical orders, each needs to be something of the other. The priest needs to realize the needs of the physical man, and the physician needs to be; aware of the sanctity of a human being. Scientific advances in this century have exceeded the wildest stretches of imagination-radio, television, radar, computers, and all the rest But what a price we are paying in terms of the dulling of our own inborn sensitivities!

The physicians of the past century had much more acute clinical acumen. Their fingers, ears, and eyes had to take the place of X-rays, electrocardiograms, blood chemistry profiles, and radioactive scans. The young medical student and resident physician of today never hear the sounds audible to the ears of their predecessors nor feel the slight skin temperature changes nor see the peculiarities of the tongue that were so important in the diagnoses of former times. Medical physicist Francis Woidich, a profound student of latent human energies, refers to man as "the cosmic resonator" and declares that the human being is capable of conscious response to any type of energy. Griffith Evans, M.D., believed that we human beings resonate on a harmonic system of vibrations tending to give a basis for our establishing rapport with another individual by tuning in his field of consciousness.

The research of G. W. de la Warr in his Oxford laboratory illustrated the power of thought on cellular growth and on photographic emulsion. He has also designed a number of diagnostic and therapeutic instruments that have aided him and his physician wife in diagnosing and treating patients at a great distance through a drop of the patient's blood to which they mentally tune in.

The rapidly growing field of parapsychology is piling up evidence of this type. In this connection I recall an example told me by the well-known student of psychic research Harold Sherman, who described his daily logged mental communications with an arctic explorer. One day Sherman awakened with a severe headache that he was at a loss to explain, inasmuch as he was not subject to headaches. Comparing diary notes on the explorer's return, they discovered that the timing of the headache coincided perfectly with a severe bump on the head his friend had suffered.

There is basically nothing new about these ideas, which we are rediscovering, since they are practiced unconsciously by all forms of life. An amateur naturalist for most of my life, I have been deeply impressed by the cosmic resonance theory as I have listened by the hour to the rhythmic chanting of frogs or the friendly whispering of crickets or watched the instantaneous departure of every member of a flock of cedar waxwings as they received some signal quite imperceptible to me. Many are the stories of this relationship of man to Nature, as told by the Kahunas or the American Indians.

Recently, J. Allen Boone, author of Kinship with All Life and The Language of Silence, described an experience of his that took place in Africa when he was traveling with a group of game hunters. He had heard of a place in the interior where a large band of monkeys frequently congregated and indulged in amazing acrobatic performances for which they had become famous. He set out for the place with the intention to arrive well ahead of his party. Picking a quiet spot under the shade of a tree, he sat down, identified himself with his surroundings, and waited.

After a reasonable lapse of time, monkeys seemed to arrive from everywhere. The out-of-doors became a great stage. They were climbing, swinging, chattering in a performance more remarkable than any zoo or circus could possibly provide In the midst of this rare spectacle, all motion suddenly ceased, and there was a silence so profound it was practically audible. In another moment every monkey had disappeared.

Boone glanced at his watch, for he wished to test a theory that had suggested itself. When the hunting party arrived some hours later, he queried them as to the exact time they had left camp. It was the same time that the monkeys disappeared!^l5

Captain Hounsell, the skipper of one of the Newfoundland coastal steamers, was well known to me during my time of medical service with the International Grenfell Hospital at St. Anthony, Newfoundland. Icebergs and heavy fogs were everyday hazards to these skippers in the days before radar. My wife tells of a trip with the captain to St. John's from our home port of St. Anthony. They were plying their way through White Bay in a dense fog one morning. Mrs. Loomis asked the mate how the captain knew where they were going. The mate replied that he had no idea but knew that the captain had another sense that most of us don't know how to use. Shortly the boat's whistle blew, and the anchor was dropped at Seal Cove. Nothing could be seen but fog and water. Then the motorboats from the shore began to arrive at the ship's side. The trip was completed as if there had been no fog, but how?