Vaporizing Clouds: Exploring Mind, Body & Spirit

By Eileen Moore Koenigsberg

Vaporizing Clouds:
Exploring Mind, Body, & Spirit
by Eileen Moore Koenigsberg
We all know there is more to this world than meets the eye.
We all have a great potential inside. Most of us only explore the tip of our own icebergs,
of ourselves. This book will help you to explore further, deeper into the workings of your
mind, deeper into the connection to your inner self. It will help you to see how you
influence life in a profound way, and how you can become more aware of your whole
consciousness.
Vaporizing real, physical clouds is something we can all learn to do. This book shows you
how. You will realize through doing the various exercises and techniques, how much
impact you have on your life, on your environment, on things you would never have
imagined. You will be given keys to working with the Universal Laws, including the Law of Attraction, understanding and
directing your mind, and exploring your inner connection to Source.
We all have many different clouds in our lives. We often see clouds as things that are
in our way, or in the way of the light. Come with an open mind and heart, explore your
mind, body and spirit, and uncover your own light of understanding.
Namaste!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 31, 2009
• ISBN: 9781465324979

Eileen Moore Koenigsberg

Eileen Moore Koenigsberg has studied and taught metaphysics, the power of the mind and the esoteric arts since 1984, when she began her formal study with the School of Metaphysics in Des Moines, Iowa. She taught at and directed SOMs in Illinois and Missouri. She received Masters Level Certification in Applied Metaphysics and Mysticism in 2006, taught, and served on the Board of Directors for the Self-Actualization and Enlightenment Center / Journey Metaphysical Center in Lakewood, Colorado. She received her B.A. and her B.ARCH. from Iowa State University and is a licensed architect in Colorado. Eileen is also a certified Hot Yoga instructor and an accomplished classical pianist. Eileen offers dream interpretation, energy healing, mind-body health readings and leads metaphysical classes, seminars and workshops on a variety of topics. Please visit her website, www.vaporizingclouds.com. She and her husband have an architectural practice in Pine, Colorado, where they (will soon) live with their three growing children in their unique passive solar home built around a rock.

Book preview

1

Vaporizing Clouds

"A cloud does not know why it moves in just such a direction and at such a speed,

It feels an impulsion… this is the place to go now.

But the sky knows the reasons and the patterns behind all clouds,

And you will know, too, when you lift yourself high enough to see beyond horizons."

—from Illusions, by Richard Bach

I don’t remember exactly when or why I first tried to vaporize a cloud. Perhaps it was with a friend, at their suggestion. Perhaps it was after I read the book Illusions by Richard Bach, since the main characters in that book did some cloudbusting. What I do remember is that when I took some time to try it, and I started with a little cloud, in just a few minutes it had disappeared, vanished, without a trace.

I picked another wispy cloud, fairly small. I focused my attention on it. I imagined it shrinking. I then saw it dissipate, and, well, disappear, evaporate, poof! In less than a minute or two it was gone! The clouds I’d focused on were the small ones in the sky. I suppose they were a mile to a mile and a half above me, and, compared to the ground below, probably only 20-40 feet in each direction.

I was lying down on the lush, green grass on a slightly rising hill in a large park, the size of 10 city blocks, looking up at the sky, the clouds far above me. I focused on another cloud, this time about twice the size as the last one. I sensed something at my forehead, it was warm there and it sort of tickled. It felt like there were little beams of energy going straight at the cloud out of my forehead, like a science fiction ray gun or something. There was a pulsing sensation in the middle of my forehead, about an inch higher than my eyebrows. I also noticed tiny spots, moving in the air above me, like I could see little particles of light or energy or something in the path coming from my forehead going up into the sky. I believed they were heading to the cloud, but I really couldn’t see them past about 12'' from my head.

So this next, bigger cloud, as I focused on it, got smaller and smaller. Eventually it, too, disappeared. It took longer, I suppose because it was larger, but, gone, it was, in a matter of minutes.

I continued doing this for some time, picking the small, distinct clouds, or breaking pieces off larger clouds, right off the edges. I’d started with the small, wispy ones, four or five of them, and within a matter of six or seven minutes, they were all gone. Then I moved on to the next smallest clouds, and focused on those. They took a little longer, but they, too, disappeared for me. I’d lost count, but I had vaporized at least nine or ten clouds or portions of clouds in about twenty minutes or so. None of the other clouds in the sky were disappearing, just the ones I was focusing on.

The clouds I focused on to vaporize all disappeared, vanished. I watched them get smaller and smaller until they were gone.

The other clouds in the sky remained the same size.

Soon there was only one massive cumulus cloud left in the sky. It was very large, covering vast portions of the sky, and looked very dense. In comparison to the park below, it easily matched its length, which was at least 1/2 mile. This cloud filled up most of the western sky, actually. I hesitated, was it worth it? Did I need to prove anything else to myself? Was this massive cloud too big for me? It was huge, and seemed to be quite thick, covering the sun and spreading out both horizontally and vertically.

But I wanted to feel the sunlight on my face and body, I was getting cold. I wanted the cloud to at least let the sunlight through. So I focused on the portion of the big cloud in front of the sun. I took a deep breath and let it out. I noticed I had gotten tight and tense just thinking about the size of that cloud. I instinctively knew I needed to be relaxed and unconcerned about the size of the goal, for when I got concerned about it, I became tight and felt anxious. I started doubting whether I could do it, even though I’d just seen it happen. I mean, it had to be me, right, that caused those other clouds to disappear? Exactly the ones I’d focused on, nine or ten in a row? It wasn’t like the other clouds were disappearing, just the ones I’d focused on. Only those were gone. Sure there was some slow movement in the sky, and the clouds were changing gradually as the winds blew them on their course, but no others had disappeared or grown smaller that I hadn’t focused on vaporizing.

So I focused on the portion of that large cloud covering the sun. The sun started to peek through, I could see it getting brighter as the clouds in front of it got thinner, I could feel its warmth on my face, on my body. Then I changed my focus a bit and started to think about breaking the huge cloud in half, figuring if I broke the cloud into smaller clouds, the smaller ones would be easier to dissolve. I focused my beam of energy, if that’s what it was, up and down, on a path to break the cloud in half, like I was cutting it with some imaginary scissors up in the sky. I imagined spreading the focused energy out so that it wasn’t just a thin line up and down, but wider and wider, almost like erasing the clouds from the sky, making the break larger and larger in my mind.

It was happening! The huge cloud actually appeared to be getting thinner exactly where I was focusing. It continued to get thinner and thinner, up and down, in the middle of that massive cloud, just the same as I was directing it. Soon, the huge cloud became two separate and distinct smaller clouds, still very large, but definitely separate and each less than half the size they had been.

I had to take a deep breath. I felt a thrill of power, laced with fear. What did I think I was doing? Was I really vaporizing clouds? It seemed to work with only the direction of my mind! Wow! Yet, who did I think I was, claiming an effect on my natural environment like that? I looked around, wondering if anybody else had been watching, if anyone else had seen or noticed. Was it really just me? Was I sending some type of energy out of my forehead where I felt the tingling sensation, and directing it to the cloud, so high above me? How was it possible? But didn’t I just see it happen over and over again right before my very eyes? How many times did I need to see it happen before I knew it really was me?

Try It: Exercise / Experiment

Even now, I get kind of nervous when thinking about vaporizing clouds. Will it really work again? Will it really work this time? Maybe I can’t do it anymore, and then I try it and it happens again, it works! Then I hear myself, "of course it worked again!"

Try vaporizing clouds. Sitting or lying down on a grassy knoll is a nice way to try it, but whatever your environment, you can take some time and just focus on the clouds. Maybe you’re at a park waiting for a soccer game to start, or letting your dog run. Instead of people-watching, try cloud-busting. Watch them and notice their movement. Then pick one that’s small, maybe just a wisp of a cloud, fairly close overhead and bring your attention to it, your focus. Pretend that your forehead has a beam of light or energy coming out of it going right to the cloud. Imagine that this is very vibrant energy, and it can make your chosen cloud evaporate. Send it, imagine you are superman, if you like. Imagine the cloud disappearing. Listen to your thoughts, and do not despair or give in to fears or other thoughts of failure or how ridiculous this may be. You can do this. Focus, send, see what works and be patient.

Then, try another one, another small, wispy one. Do this over and over again, eventually trying larger bits and pieces, or larger clouds. Experiment with different techniques. It can also be done with just intention, not really spending a lot of time sending the energy. Try spraying it with your disappearing intention, place your attention on other clouds and vaporize them, then come back to the one you just sprayed with the disappearing intention, and see what has happened to it. Is it smaller, thinner? Is it gone or is there not much change? Play with this, do it your own way. Watch the clouds disappear. Maybe you can even make one disappear with just one look, one intention.

Try it with another person if you like. Try it with an open-minded friend, a son or a daughter. See if you can work together, or do a race with similar sized clouds.

Keep a log, write down what happens and the date, do it a number of times, you might just be amazed at yourself! Most importantly, do it again and again, until you have no doubts that it is you causing it to happen.

2

Whispers from the Unseen World

The original sin is to limit the Is. Don’t.

—from Illusions by Richard Bach

When I was in fourth grade, in my bedroom in our quiet house, someone, invisible or unseen, whispered my name out loud to me. I was alone in my room, resting in my bed, awake, and had been home sick with the flu for a couple of days. I was feeling better, on the mend, and would go back to school the next day. My room was in the second floor of the house, at the back, with windows to the south and the east. I was lying awake in my bed, tired of reading, quietly just thinking about things, all alone, when all of a sudden I heard a very distinct whisper, Eileen, gentle, yet strong and clear. It came from the southeast corner of my room. I was startled, What? I thought. Chills swept up my spine. Who said that? Who’s there?

At first I thought it was my mom, but immediately I knew it was not. I’m not even sure my mom was home at the time, and even if she were, she could definitely not have made this whisper, as it was coming from the outside corner of my bedroom. The door to the hall was on the opposite corner, clear across the room. It all happened so quickly, at first I felt the confusion and the startle, accompanied by tingles all along my spine. Then I felt calm, warm feelings. It felt like they were coming from the presence, a being of some kind. There truly was another living, but invisible, being in my room with me. I was startled and a bit spooked, but it was so clear and true, Eileen, in a gentle, beautiful, yes, loving whisper.

If you’ve ever seen the movie, The Truman Show, where Truman’s all alone in a boat, unaware that his whole life he’s really been on an elaborate TV set and hears his name from the director, seeming from out of nowhere, it was sort of like that. Of course, Truman (played by Jim Carrey) was startled, for it was like he was being spoken to directly by God. My experience was like this but very intimate, quiet, a whisper, but distinct. There was warmth in the voice that had called to me, and familiarity, and a deep kind of love.

I felt an amazing thrill, an excitement within me, a knowingness of something very profound. I sensed another being, an invisible presence that was steady, loving and concerned about me, that knew me very well, but was not a physical human being. It wasn’t Jesus, it wasn’t God, at least not how I thought of Jesus or God. It wasn’t overwhelmingly huge, but more personal. It felt and sounded feminine. It was a loving presence, like an angel, there with me in my room. She was separate from me, distinct, but not in a physical form, completely invisible.

I realized there were clearly communicated thoughts in my head from this presence, and I felt love and concern and although I don’t remember what was specifically said or sent to me telepathically, if that’s what was going on, what I remember is the deep, profound feeling of strength about me and my potential, my life. I was exhilarated, safe, and felt deeply loved. Yes, still a little spooked, too.

Yet, something stirred deep within me that day, an inner excitement. I had been taught about and believed in a type of three-in-one God, called a Trinity, made up of Jesus, a Creator God and a Holy Spirit, or simply God. Sometimes I practiced my beliefs more strongly than at others, and had an inner, personal communication with God, prayers and such, but this was different. This was not just in my heart, this was someone or something, like an angel, that actually spoke my name aloud! She sounded and felt female, too!

I understood then for sure that there was someone watching over me, being with me, there to help me, someone that I couldn’t see, but that was very real and very beautiful, and full of such love. I understood that my life, and that all lives, were truly important. I also knew I had much to learn, but that I was part of something big, unseen and that there was something extremely cool and amazing about our life on earth.

In that instant I understood that life was more than it appeared to be, that it was much more than what it seemed in my day-to-day going to school, of reading and racing through long division at the blackboard or sitting with my best friend on the top of the monkey bars at recess, arguing about Nixon vs. McGovern and the upcoming election.

It was a profound experience for me, one of those peak experiences that happen in one’s life, that while it’s happening you know it’s profound, and you want it to last forever, and yet, it passes, and life goes on the way it used to.

But it was not the same to me anymore… life, that is. Something about my perspective changed and everything seemed different, like I had discovered a profound secret. I think of it now as my First Contact, kind of like Star Trek’s first encounter with non-warp beings.

I didn’t want to share my experience with anyone. I don’t think I even told my best friend. I didn’t tell my parents or my sister, because I didn’t want anything to mar my memory, I didn’t want anyone to make fun of it or make it less than it was. I didn’t want to share it in case I lost it somehow. But I kept it close to my heart, and I was more contemplative.

Earlier in my life, when I was six or seven, my family and I lived in a house with a large, sunny backyard. My sister and I helped my dad plant a vegetable garden behind the garage. We planted potatoes, peas, carrots, green beans, tomatoes; I think we even tried peanuts one year. I remember a beautiful purple and yellow and white flower that grew in our garden, although not planted by any of us, a volunteer. It had grown right next to the garage, so close I didn’t see how it had room to grow there. It was so intricate in its beauty and I studied it very carefully.

I started talking to the flower, mostly in my head, but out loud when no one else was around. I thought it was so lovely and I told it so. It was so beautiful and so amazing to me that it had just sprung up there without being planted, right next to the garage, with hardly enough room for its roots. I studied the delicate flower, its beautiful colors and details. I developed a type of connection to this plant, and would talk to it everyday I went to the garden. It felt like the flower was happy to see me and took delight in me as well. I felt like the flower heard me, and loved me back.

My sister, two years my senior, found out about me talking to my little friend, the Johnny Jump-up flower. I’m not sure if she heard me or I may have asked her if she thought it could feel. She probably just laughed, I remember I felt weird. She may have told me that was stupid or silly or something to that effect, that flowers can’t hear me or feel, whatever any normal adult would probably have said to her.

I don’t blame my sister, it’s just that I then wondered if I had been making it up. I was filled with doubt. I didn’t have a way to prove that it was real, or one that I could think of, anyway.

I stopped talking to the flower, at least, not as much. I still admired it but I doubted what I had believed and felt as happening just the days previous. I felt the hurt by the flower, or maybe I imagined it, I couldn’t tell anymore. Maybe I was making it all up. Flowers don’t have ears, after all, maybe it was all child’s play. I didn’t really have any proof, it just felt like I had a kinship with that particular flower. But I doubted myself, I wasn’t sure anymore. Was I really communicating with it? Was it silly or my imagination? My doubts got in the way of the experience and I hesitated. I didn’t trust my heart. I missed talking to it when I didn’t anymore. I doubted myself and my experience, and lost something at the time that was in its own way, rather remarkable.

Don’t get me wrong, I think questioning one’s self and checking one’s experiences against reality is very important. It’s just that I didn’t know how to do that when I was six, and I learned to not tell anyone about the weird or somewhat unusual experiences I had. I didn’t want to expose myself to others’ doubts or ridicule.

So I didn’t want that to happen to my experience with my whispered name and my visiting angelic presence. I didn’t want anyone to tell me that it was all my imagination or to have to defend myself in any way. I didn’t want anyone to make fun of it, for it was an amazing experience to me. It was also deeply personal and profound and I’m not sure I wanted to share it with anyone at the time, I was still coming to terms with it. I knew, with all my heart, that it was real. I hadn’t imagined it, it was outside of myself, but I wasn’t sure what my friends or family would say, I doubted if anyone would believe me. The only people I had heard of that had been visited by angels were written about in the Bible, and that had happened over a thousand years ago. Did people really believe it could happen to someone in our time? They would probably think I made it up, a child with her imagination. As I said, I treasured my experience secretly, inwardly, and kept it to myself, in my heart.

I may have asked my mom or dad about angels, and if they believed in them. When we were younger we had little angel pictures by our beds, and we had talked some about having Guardian Angels, personal angels that kept watch and protected you. They often talked of angels at church so I knew my parents believed in them, or, if they weren’t sure, they would say it was possible. Although the angelic presence wasn’t exactly like those little drawings, which I knew were just an artist’s stylized interpretations of what an angel might look like, after my initial shock, I realized that’s what the beautiful presence that whispered my name had to have been, my Guardian Angel. But I just kept my beautiful angelic presence visit to myself. After all, it was a deeply personal experience, for me, and it was totally incredible and amazing and I felt very special, very honored having it.

So I learned to trust my heart a little bit more that day, and know that what I experienced was an amazing connection to the angelic world. That there really is such a thing, and that we each have our own intimate guardian angels that are with us to help us in our life.

Try It: Exercise / Experiment

Do you have any experiences, perhaps from your childhood, that this reminds you of? Did you ever talk with flowers or trees or hear a whisper from an angel? Maybe you’ve seen fairies in the garden or thought you felt a presence of something but couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

Take some time to write down in a journal any recollections you may have of similar experiences from your past. They can be from your childhood, imaginary friends that felt real, perhaps, or from your adulthood. They can be things you are not sure about, or those that you are very sure about having been real. Take a moment to reflect and appreciate these, or if you don’t have any memory of anything similar, maybe you recall a friend’s related similar experience.

3

Knocked Unconscious

"But darkness makes me fumble

For a key

To a door,

That’s wide open."

—from Darkness by Stewart Copeland,

The Police, Ghost in the Machine

The day before my twelfth birthday, some two years later, I was with my family visiting my uncle and aunt and two young cousins in Jackson, Minnesota. After dinner, my parents and aunt and uncle were in the living room of the two-story, old house on Sherman Street, and I was exploring a bit, I guess I was looking for the bathroom. I opened the door to what I thought was the bathroom and took a step inside. My foot found no floor. In the dark and, expecting the bathroom floor, I hit the first step down hard and fell, slipping, hitting the back of my head hard on those bare, wooden steps, and quickly bumped, bumped, bumped all of the way down to the bottom landing.

I remember much commotion and being in and out of hearing range, or hearing from a distance but not being able to speak. I remember hearing concerned words,