“Well, let’s get back to ourselves,” Christ said. “Everyone’s gone. No need to keep up these roles.”

“Still, they could hold such promise …” Hera said nostalgically, just as she and all of the other gods dispensed with their images and with the personalities that went with them. Their individual awarenesses mixed and merged one with the other, swept through the others, psychologically romped and whirled through mental universes unending.

“It’s time for our ‘nightly check,’” came the unspoken, on-the-other-side-of-silence, multimillion thought. And each divine awareness turned its attention toward the Earth, seeing it and all of its parts, down to the tiniest particle; merging with the mountains, sky, seas; rushing gloriously into each living thing, exulting in the cozy preciseness of Earth time.

The gods dived exuberantly into the earth, minus images: growing up as trees in a million backyards, as fish in the oceans, as people and insects and animals. They merged with the twilight that came in through Jeffery’s window, flowing through the pages of the manuscript of this book that sat on the table. And the gods continued to give life, form, and substance to the earth.

Jeffery’s Closing Notes

It is with mixed feelings of exhaustion, triumph, and misgivings that I close this manuscript with these few notes. Anyone who reads this book can easily trace the development of my own involvement, until I, myself, became a character in its bizarre narrative. For me now, the division between reality and fantasy exists no longer: That is, I realize that to some extent each of us deals with varying kinds of reality. Perhaps each of us also has a younger, unresolved self wandering the wild reaches of the psyche, but in any case … and despite the oddness of therapeutic measures, I feel whole for the first time in many years.

This doesn’t mean that I have accepted Oversoul Seven as my psychological guide per se, but I do believe that he represents those more creative and expansive aspects of the psyche that most of us ignore. Would that ever-enthusiastic imaginative portion of the psyche then take such steps as this automatic manuscript to bring itself to conscious awareness? In my case, at least, the answer must be yes. Moreover, there can be no doubt of the devotion that such a mission implies, as this usually unconscious level of the self surfaces, and acts as a teacher for the conscious mind.

There are still many unresolved questions, some mundane and some quite mysterious. What will I do now? I have no idea, except that I’ll no longer stay in the confines of my academic field, but roam more adventurously elsewhere into other investigations that I hope will please the curious Will, who still wonders about the meaning of existence.