Star Wars, Ancient Tibet, and Jedi Training
by Jon Rappoport Let’s start here: there are pre-conditions for the popularity of the Star Wars fil...
Let’s start here: there are pre-conditions for the popularity of the Star Wars films. New previously unseen Space, huge amounts of it. Heroes in that space. The capacity to perform paranormal feats. A Force that feeds into that capacity. A battle between the light and dark aspects of the Force.
Yes, a director could take those pre-conditions and distort and strangle them in the making of a film, but without those elements the Star Wars movies wouldn’t exist at all.
Drilling down further — The Jedi, in whom the Force is naturally strong, undergo training. This factor pulses in the audience’s subconscious, because it makes a kind of sense. If an individual can perform paranormal feats and control them… he needs to learn how. He needs to go to school.
He needs to practice, as an athlete does. Perhaps the paranormal isn’t just a child’s fantasy. Maybe it’s more than that. Suppose it is. Suppose these societies we live in, these civilizations, are built to exclude such possibilities.
Suppose, in the glorification of technology, an omission has occurred — an intentional omission. Suppose a deadening “realism” is the arbitrary substitute for paranormal ability. Suppose this is a long con of immense obfuscation.
Read Dean Radin’s classic, The Conscious Universe, he presents a compelling case via a far-reaching analysis of paranormal laboratory experiments and their results.
When I first read his breakthrough book, I was floored. Far from merely recounting anecdotes of paranormal phenomena, Radin was proving that decades of well-formed and well-conducted published laboratory studies, in the areas of telepathy and psychokinesis, revealed that these human capabilities exist.
He had performed a staggering feat. He had shown the science was valid.
It remains for other branches of the scientific community to catch up, to admit their consensus about reality is provincial, distorted, and pathetically behind the times. They are now the Roman Church of old, denying Galileo and Bruno.
Two years ago, Radin spoke at a conference, Electric Universe, in New Mexico. He described his recent pilot study on time and precognition.
A small group of advanced meditators who use the “non-dual” technique, were tested. While meditating, they were subjected to random interruptions: a flash of light and a beeping sound.
Measuring their brain activity, Radin found that significant brain changes occurred BEFORE the light flashes or the beeps.
A control group of non-meditators were tested in exactly the same way, but their brain measurements revealed NO such changes.
In other words, the brains of the meditators anticipated the timing of the unpredictable interruptions.
The future was registering now. This, of course, opens up another way of thinking about time.
Serial time, the idea that, in this continuum, we experience a smooth progression of moments, with the present becoming, so to speak, the future, is the conventional view. But suppose that is a grossly limiting and sketchy premise?
Suppose that, for those who can be aware of it, the future is bleeding into the present? It is making an impact “before it happens.”
If time is deeply rooted in perception, Dean Radin’s study indicates that this perception extends to the future. If people can register the impact of the future now, then our notions of time are up for grabs.
So are conventional concepts of cause and effect, which rely on chains of events moving like trains from the past to the present. We need to consider that causes can sit in the future and produce their effects in the present.
In which case, what is the future? It certainly is an expanded territory that extends beyond our normal notions of it.
In correspondence with me, Dean Radin offered further information about his study:
“All participants knew that they would receive a light flash, an audio tone [beep], both, or none. In one condition they didn’t know when these would occur or what type of stimulus. In another condition they knew when it would occur but not what. In all cases no one, including [the scientist] experiment[ers], knew what the next stimulus would be because we used a true random number generator to select it on the fly.I then asked Dr. Radin how closely correlated the light flashes and audio tones were to the brain changes in the meditators. His answer was stunning.
“The conclusion of the study was that the reported subjective experience of exceptional spaciousness, or timelessness, reported by some advanced meditators, appears to be objectively correct. That is, their subjective sense of ‘now’ appears to expand substantially, and our experiment indicates that this was not an illusion.”
The brain changes occurred 1.5 seconds before these interruptions. And the changes obviously occurred even though some of the meditators didn’t know when the interruptions were coming.
Radin’s remarks offer us a major point: these meditators were expanding their consciousness of the present moment, so that it included the future.
Such a framework of understanding travels far beyond modern ideas about the makeup and laws of the physical universe. It implies more than merely a holographic or pixel-based cosmos. It speaks to titanic capabilities on our part.
Of course, having sunk to a state in which we navigate in an amnesia about ourselves, we look at these ideas with skepticism. We pretend we are trapped in a container-continuum of space and time, as Einstein and others have fleshed it out.
Consider what could be the most astonishing extension of Dean Radin’s work: suppose that for those elements of the future that aren’t yet planned or on the drawing boards at all, people can still register their presence in advance.
Then we would be talking about the human capacity to reach out into a vacuum, a nothing, and still “bring back” what is going to happen.
Back to Star Wars. Jedi undergo training to improve their ability to see into the immediate future, to know, in advance, what is about to happen seconds before it does — for example, in battle against an opponent.
In this sense, that process mirrors what Radin has been researching and confirming. Is it any surprise that the movie audience feels a resonance with Jedi abilities? We are talking about more than just fantasy wish-fulfillment.
Another kind of training existed in early Tibet. Those “Jedi” utilized a method of visualization that, in its concept, challenges virtually all systems of spiritual practice.
(Read John Blofeld’s wonderful book, The Tantric Mysticism of Tibet.)
I’m talking about “deity visualization.”
The student is given a task: create in his mind, in every detail, the image of a specific “deity.” I believe these students were given a painting to study in this regard.
This was no brush-off exercise. The student, in isolation, had to create, all at once, with no missing parts, and sustain the entire (fully and extensively decorated) image. If he could accomplish this at all, it might take months, or even years.
If he achieved the goal, the deity would then naturally take on the persona of a counselor, guide, and friend. For the student, this would be a marvelous ongoing experience.
The teacher, watching the student closely, would determine when he was relying “too closely” on the guide. At that point, he would tell the student: “Get rid of the deity.”
This, it was said, was more difficult than creating it in the first place.
But if the student could achieve both the creation and destruction of the deity, he would then see, as John Blofeld puts it, that the universe is a product of mind.
This insight, not merely an intellectual conclusion, but an immediate knowing and experience, would enable the student to change, rearrange, and recreate physical space, time, and energy.
The early Tibetan school of the “paranormal” was undoubtedly the most original in the history of the planet.
It also speaks to the idea that, through training, through the development of the faculty of imagination, the individual can regain and restore what was originally his, before socialization, indoctrination, and “realism” submerged his own power.
The Star Wars films reinstate the concept of the advanced academy, where students actually train to enhance their inherent capacities.
Therefore, the movies are more than spectacles. They firmly suggest that training, if it existed, would be the key to outdistancing the programmed and illusory dimensions of the world people believe they live in.
The films reawaken the idea of individual power — not as some bedraggled tag-end appendage going extinct as a result of “higher social evolution”, but as a primary alive and electric core that has been stepped on and rejected by engineers of a mass future, in which individuals are supposed to be numbers and units and ciphers in a dimmed-out gray utopia, for the sake of some misbegotten counterfeit of universal justice and equality — neither of which, when the veneer is peeled away, is just or equal.
There, for those who can see, is the illusion.
The reality is the individual, alive and awake with his amnesia stripped away, and his power intact. Again.