A few weeks ago I got back to remote viewing (RV) targets generated at http://www.rvtargets.com/. The first few times that I tried remote viewing (a few years ago), I had spectacular results. This is no longer the case. My hit rate has plummeted.
For those of you who aren’t familiar with RV, I would suggest visiting the Ten Thousand Roads website at http://www.dojopsi.info/tenthousandroads/rvprotocol.shtml. I’d give you a description, but I’m frankly too lazy. The Ten Thousand Roads website does a far better job of it than I would.
A spectacular start and miserable continuation is not unusual in RV. After the first couple “good hits” on targets, I often found myself becoming more goal-oriented than was necessary or useful. As soon as I want a “good” outcome, silent openness is replaced with need, and need puts my mind on a spinning hamster wheel of expectation and second-guessing. That’s the time to go do the dishes, take a walk, take a nap. Let it go and come back later. Letting go of the outcome is absolutely essential to accurate RV.
I also found that my hit rate took a nose dive because I was often unable to hold onto information that I did receive. Although at times I received far more information than I had when I first began doing RV, the information came in such a brief and intense flash that I couldn’t decipher it. The same sort of flash, or complete rote, often happens when I read people, animals or places. I’m accustomed to receiving the flash in that context. I’ve become adept at holding it lightly, picking through it for the information that the client wants me to address. That flash of information has a natural center or aim in the emotion of the client. It occurs to me that I use emotion as a beacon or guide, as energy often lights up or comes to me more intently and clearly when it is charged with emotion.
The RV targets don’t carry emotion in the same way. The emotional content is almost always simply what I might bring to it when finally viewing the target. (Not always – there are at times targets such as battlefields, WWII concentration camps, and similar places that are steeped in their own emotional energies). It’s not impossible to read something lacking in emotional starting points – or “tags” as I call them – it simply requires a reorganization of attention.
Finally, only now do I understand that when I read people, animals, and specific buildings or properties, the identification of the object of my attention – the client – gives me a head start. It tells me which band width to tune into, which radio station to roll the dial toward. In an RV reading, the band width needs to be broadened considerably because the target could be anything in the physical world. I have to back up, learn to sit outside the whole radio, perusing the channels, sensing where the thing that I seek lies.
While I’m not hitting much, then, I am slowly learning about my habits of perception. And as I learn about my habits, I’m able break them down and open them up to encompass and invite a broader perceptive experience.
When I was (actively) learning the Spanish language, I would get hung up for days on specific small details that revealed to me how language shapes perception. In Spanish, your body parts are never yours, they’re “the arm” or “the face.” How might that affect how one thinks of their own body? In Spanish, the future tense is always subjunctive – meaning, for those grammatical illiterates in the audience, that the future is always at least just a little bit questionable. How sane and accurate! I envied the Spanish that profound insight made manifest in language.
We each have our own unique concoction of social and cultural programming, life experience, communal memory or past life experiences, and clarity in spirit communication. Our way of perceiving is necessarily informed by these things, but it needn’t be limited by them. Examine assumptions, ponder absolutes, try new things. Stretching can take you to interesting places, and may prepare you for the unimaginable.