Lost! - Operational Remote Viewing

I sit here and look deeply into the yellow post-it note. As if the number scribbled across it will impart some deep knowledge. In actuality I suppose it will as I yet again hope it will transport me across time and space to find yet another missing person. At this stage I don’t know who, where or the circumstances of the case but it’s all here hidden somewhere in the universe by this little scribbled number and I know there are real people waiting, and hoping that me psychically probing will give them the concrete leads or kick start that they so desperately need.

This is operational remote viewing. Just like the old military Stargate remote viewing unit, every part of this process and the anticipated data I bring back for a psychic foray into no man’s land has and will impact lives and decisions. There are real people waiting on what I can uncover, sometimes desperate people, loved ones, family, stressed and nowhere else to go police detectives trying to find the tens of thousands of people that disappear every year.

It’s hard – have no illusions over this. I’m on my sixth official case and it doesn’t get easier. I’m still determined I know that somehow this amazing gift and skill I have developed, can help, can find these lost souls that haunt the living so much.

You see its not practice anymore, the feedback isn’t some picture of some bridge or ancient structure, it’s a picture of a healthy, vibrant nineteen year old blonde girl, hair tied back in a ponytail, the typical image you see in millions of homes across the world, an innocent stare at the camera, a stare of promise, which you now know has been cruelly cut short.

The pressure is on, it’s not intentional but it’s there in the background, lingering. People want results, they need results, at this stage, when psychics are called in – you know it’s the last stop before the case is officially cold. This isn’t always the case – sometime a rush project gets sent through and a psychic foray may just help save a life but more often than not I’m guessing its after the fact and the real train has long but been blown away by the winds of time. But the pressure’s on and the controller, who is far removed from me somewhere on the other side of the world, in a place I have only seen envisioned in films and books, awaits for my data. Unlike the remote viewing I have done to date in years of practice he’s not interested in a perfect form of CRV on paper, he doesn’t want to see where an AOL manifested and sent me off track. There are lives at stake, people waiting, crimes and mysteries to be solved, and someone to be punished. And all this relies on the sacred little clusters of data and sketches I now have to spend the next couple of hours marking on my stack of white paper. My controller doesn’t care how I get the data or even if it’s under the strict protocols that define RV form other psychic practices, he just wants to know how and where.

All it comes down to is this how and what happened and where is the person. In an idea world I could hand them a scribbled address or map coordinate, but this is remote viewing and words, name and numbers and hard fought for precious pieces of data that very rarely manifest through the methods of describing the target piece by piece, little by little. I sit there producing pages of descriptive data, it feels like this, there is a rising hill to the left, and the ground feels boggy underfoot. Sketches of loose shapes resembling structures in a landscape fill the empty whiteness of the paper – but as I’m doing this I just want to scream ‘for fucks sake just tell me the fucking address of the place’ – yet this doesn’t come. So I keep on sketching, keep on describing. Determination drives you through – ‘I will describe this god damn place so well that a blind man would recognize it’, I say to myself, determined to help at least one person, to affect at least one life.

I make it sound worse than it is and on occasion do help to the small degree that I can. I get an email form the controller – feedback on a rush case ‘002’. I said she was dead, dumped locally, strange body position and that I felt the boyfriend had done it. Sketches indicate a female lying next to a long linear road going south. Days later the police feedback that they have found a body, it’s the victim, dumped in a dumpster. I check the address in Google maps – the road is long, linear and ‘southbound’ is part of its address. The police also say the boyfriend is on the run.

Its early days for me, this is new territory now. A lot rides on these little scribbles of data. Faces hide behind every target, lives and losses, people wanting and needing answers and looking at you for them. This brings a different and new kind of urgency and respect to the process. A sobering reality that remote viewing as it stands is good, but that it also needs further work, it’s like it needs a conclusion – Remote viewing or CRV (controlled remote Viewing) feels and works like an unfinished play, the final scene where the culmination of all the hard work and description form into the final picture that is presented – is still missing. Now when this final piece of the puzzle is found and slotted into place remote viewing will be the tool or power we all hope and want it to be. Until then I’ll keep plodding on, describing remote places and remote people to that blind man.

Daz