Jeffrey D

Fear Not A message and experience that saved my life Jeffrey S. Daniels Copyright © 2024 ### Story Summary This story began in the fall of 1965, when I was 15 years old, and it was a new beginning for me. I hope it will be a beginning for as many other people as possible to benefit from and apply the message in their lives. I had to confront the complete dissolution of my nuclear family and the reality that I would have to live with a paternal uncle’s family for at least 18 months. This confrontation culminated in an event that changed the course of my life and became a touchstone for courage thereafter. I have continued to explore and understand this experience from many perspectives. To this day, I am in awe of what it meant and means to me. I sincerely believe the message I received has deep meaning and value for every person, and I want to share it before I leave this world. ### Facing My Fear When my fear of abandonment turned me to the point of utter despair, and in facing it, I received a message of astonishing beauty, deep affirmation, and great mystery. Fear is a terrible block to living in joy, wonder, and love. This experience saved me from giving up on life at age 15 and gave me an abiding hope and belief in myself. For me, the stakes are nothing less than finding meaning in oneself and the courage to face and overcome one’s fears, however life challenges them. I am convinced that anyone who genuinely reflects on this story will find benefit and be able to apply the message in their lifetime. This experience continues to challenge and empower me to this day, over 60 years later. ### How This Story Starts In 1963, my parents separated and divorced. Shortly after, my mother left with my younger sister and brother to start a new life. I chose to stay with my father, who had to re-enlist in the Air Force to complete his 20 years of active duty and qualify for retirement. I was age 13 and had to learn to take care of myself, as my father’s new command post required shift work as part of the 24-hour military schedule. We were on the same shift a third of the time, but often, he was simply not around. This lasted through 8th and 9th grades. When I was a high school sophomore, he was reassigned to Guam where no dependents were allowed. The Vietnam War was escalating then. I had to choose between living with my mother, now married to a man I did not respect, or with one of my uncles. I chose moving in with my uncle Bob, his wife, and my cousins. The choice seemed easy. We sold what we could, briefly visited my mother and siblings, then drove to my uncle's place. After settling into a small room, the day came when my father had to leave for Guam, leaving me there for 18 months. That morning proved fateful and more difficult than I ever imagined. ### On the Morning of Departure Everyone had breakfast in the kitchen. My father and I didn’t say much I can recall. Eventually, he said it was time to go. That October morning, we walked out to the Ford station wagon, and he put his bag in the back seat. We had a brief conversation about mundane things. Then he shook my hand, perhaps embraced me, and said goodbye. These details I don’t recall well. He got in the car, backed out of the driveway, and drove away. I saw his arm wave at the stop sign, the right-turn signal activated, and the car disappeared behind houses, taking him away from me. I had never felt more alone. ### Into the Darkness I went inside and locked myself in the bathroom. The dam broke; years of sorrow and loneliness poured out uncontrollably. Gripped by tremendous fear, I wept for what felt like hours. In the depth of my grief, I lost all awareness of shared reality. There was no "Jeff"—no identity, no story, no history, no ego—just an existential awareness in an utterly black, vast, and empty space. Then, in my mind’s eye, a distant point of light below moved toward me at incredible speed. As it neared, it slowed, revealing itself. I saw a sphere emitting white light, within which lightning bolts in all the colors of the rainbow moved unceasingly. It was beautiful beyond words and something I could never have imagined. It paused, floating level with my awareness, and then in a calm, clear, and utterly factual tone, a masculine voice spoke these words: "Fear not: for we are with you always." It waited, as if for acknowledgment, and I must have nodded or agreed in some way. Then, it began to fall, slowly at first then rapidly picking up speed, back down into the black depths of space until it vanished. Gradually, I became aware that I was sitting in a bathroom, a 15-year-old in a new home, unsure how much time had passed. I washed my face and walked out. Waves of sorrow and tears continued until late afternoon. Passing the kitchen, my aunt simply said, "It’s real hard, isn’t it?" I could only nod and shed tears in agreement. Later, I noticed two girls my age walking home from school, laughing. I felt awful, knowing I’d attend their school the next day. Incredibly, they were the first to speak to me in my first-period English class. I consider that an example of what C.G. Jung called "synchronicity." One last and extraordinary detail: I completely blanked-out and forgot what had happened to me when I emerged from my grief and re-entered this world, on the very day that it occurred. I did not and would not recall any part of it for more than 7 years. ### Academic Interlude I found my social group in high school and was a member of the marching and symphonic bands. My instrument was the trombone, and I was a good-enough player but never first chair. I played varsity basketball and was a starting guard for part of the season. I excelled academically and received a scholarship to a top notch college. I graduated from high school in 1968, went to college. In 1970, the Fall semester of my Junior year, I received a national draft number of 58. The next day I enlisted in ‘advanced’ ROTC along with other men who had low numbers. ### How and When I Recalled This Experience I graduated in May 1972, attended ROTC summer camp. After engineer officer training, I was assigned in the United States. Less than three weeks later, I was in Germany on a NATO exercise as an engineer liaison officer. In the Army, I read voraciously about philosophy, religion, psychology, yoga, and metaphysics. Edgar Cayce fascinated me. One night, reading his work, I encountered the phrase: "...the Creative Forces of the Universe." Instantly, my experience when I was age 15 returned in full force. I exclaimed aloud, "So that’s what I saw!" It was the first time I’d remembered it in over seven years. Stunned, I revisited the details in wonder. For years, I told no one. Later, I shared it only with trusted people. Now, I offer it widely, hoping others may benefit as I have. ### How This Story Continues Carl Jung would call this a "mysterium tremendum" or a great mystery. It was a genuine encounter with an aspect of consciousness that was and still is the single most important event in my lifetime. My research into consciousness includes training and experience in meditation, yoga, biofeedback, neurofeedback, human anatomy, human neuroanatomy, and non-ordinary states of consciousness. To this day, I have no satisfying explanation nor complete understanding of what I experienced at the age of 15. What I do know is that this event provided me with an inner foundation and source of strength that I have called upon more than once. Given the situation humanity now faces, other people may find this message inspiring.