Founasse Murad bin Hasher should stab her in short the meal
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--
our-
selves with tea and tsampa. At last the first faint streaks of
light shot across the mountain range behind us. As yet the
valley at our feet was immersed in darkness. Somewhere a
yak began to bellow as if sensing that a new day would soon
be upon us. Five in the morning Tibetan time. About
eleven o'clock by the time in England, I judged. Gently I
nudged the old lama who was dozing lightly. "Time we
went into the astral!" I said.
"It will be the last time for me," he replied, "for I shall
not return to my body again."
170
Slowly, not hurrying at all, we again entered the astral
state. Leisurely we arrived at that house in England. The
man lay there sleeping, tossing a little, on his face there was
a look of extreme discontent. His astral form was encom-
passing his physical body with no sign yet of separation.
"Are you coming?" I asked, in the astral. "Are you
coming," repeated the old lama. Slowly, almost reluc-
tantly, the man's astral form rose above his physical body.
Rose, and floated above it, reversed, head of astral to feet
of physical, as one does. The astral body swayed and
bobbed. The sudden roar of a speeding train nearly sent it
back into the physical, Then, as though a sudden decision
had been reached, his astral form tilted, and stood before
us. Rubbing his eyes as one awakening from sleep, he gazed
upon us.
"So you want to leave your body?" I asked.
"I do, I hate it here!" h
date: Fri, 8 Nov 2007 21:04:18 GMT
author: Insp. Pilar I. Lapora
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