Huna Article

WHY I DON'T READ MINDS
by Serge Kahili King

When I came back to the United States from Africa in 1971 there was a sort of Psychic Revolution going on. The bookstores were so flooded with books on every aspect of it that huge sections of the stores were devoted to it. Magazines specializing in it could be found in supermarkets. Workshops on it abounded, related products and gadgets by the hundreds were being marketed, weekend Expos featuring books, speakers and products drew 20,000 or more people. If you weren’t part of it, it’s really hard to grasp today how massive the movement was, especially since there was no public internet then and personal computers were still on the drawing boards.

This was so much a part of my shamanic background that I plunged right into it, experimenting with every phase of it, writing articles about it for magazines, and basing my very first published book—Mana Physics—on it.

But what does this have to do with reading minds?

Shortly after returning from Africa I got a job that taught various aspects of ESP (extra-sensory perception, for you newbies). My role was to assist the director in teaching classes, counseling and leading meditation and practice groups. Telepathy and clairvoyance were major topics, of course. Fortunately, I was no stranger to these things, but I had never before been in a position where I had to learn more about them quickly and use them on a daily basis to help people.

In this company, a weekly practice group always included a section on clairvoyance, which means “clear seeing.” The practice involved exchanging an object with a partner, like a ring, or a pen, a piece of jewelry or a watch. The receiver would hold the object and meditate on it, paying attention to whatever came to his or her mind while holding it. After a short period of time, the partners would share what they had “picked up” about each other. Sometimes it was surprisingly accurate, in that what the receiver received was definitely related to something in the partner’s life. Sometimes, according to the partner, there was no relationship at all.

In the counseling sessions, I would do something similar for the... let’s say it... customer. I would either hold the person’s hand or an object belonging to the person, and attempt to “tune” in to something related to a problem the customer had, then use that to help the customer solve the problem. I was surprisingly accurate most of the time, but surprisingly inaccurate at other times.

After quitting that job—the boss was jealous of my successes—I continued on my own with the same technique for quite a while, eventually discovering that I didn’t need the object. I could get the same degree of information just by focusing on the person, which means sometimes accurate, sometimes not.

Over years of experimenting, I came to the conclusion that each of us is broadcasting everything about ourselves to the entire universe, as if we were the source of an unlimited number of personal radio and television stations. But another part of the universe—another person, for example—is only able to tune into a limited number of those stations, if even one, at any particular time.

Why? Because if the receiver is not interested in football or cooking, he or she will not tune into your football or cooking stations, no matter how much they interest you. And what he or she does tune into may be a station that you’ve completely forgotten about.

As an example, I’ll relate the story of a famous, unnamed psychic. A reporter came to the psychic’s door. The psychic opened the door and the reporter was just standing there, staring at him intensely. The psychic was startled at first, then said, “Oh, I see what you are doing. Let’s see. Hmm. I pick up tennis rackets and golf clubs.” “Hah! said the reporter. “You are wrong! I was thinking about horses!” Smugly thinking he had proven the psychic a fake, the reporter went back to his car and opened the trunk to put his camera case in it. And scattered on the bed of his trunk were his tennis rackets and golf clubs.

So, if someone asks me to read his or her mind, I say, “No, I don’t do that. If you have a problem, let me know and I’ll try and help.” That’s so much easier, faster and more effective than trying to tune into the right station.

Oh, I also don’t send telepathic messages, but that’s another story.