Voice Transmissions With The Deceased

by Friedrich Juergenson

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41 CHAPTER 8

Boris Sacharow, the friend of my youth – The path into the silence – a healthy shock

In November, two German friends came to visit me in Stockholm . As a favor to them, I overcame my inner resistance, dug up my tapes again for the first time in a long while. I still hadn’t created any index of my recordings. Also, being in a hurry, I believe I was only able to present my friends with the barking dog phenomenon.

On the last evening before my friends’ planned departure, by a sheer coincidence, I came upon the trail of one of my friends from my teens, of whom I hadn’t heard anything for 27 years. In the meantime he had become one of the most noted yoga teachers in all of Germany . This was about Boris Sacharow, who has written several good books about yoga, which readers in the German speaking countries who are adept at yoga are sure to know. Boris and I were linked by a teenage friendship. Not only did we grow up in the same city, Odessa , but also our fathers were doctors and therefore colleagues. The thing that brought us together especially was the deep wish to find a path to the hidden meaning of life.

I saw Boris for the last time in Berlin , in 1932. He then lived with my relatives in Charlottenburg. In spite of his great abilities and his outspoken talent for foreign languages, he was always in the grip of material problems. No doubt, he lacked a practical sense of life. Besides that, he was a foreigner, and Germany at the time was in the midst of a catastrophic economic crisis. Boris earned his living as a taxi driver. 42 For the most part he drove nights; during the day he practiced the painting of billboards and other advertisements and eagerly studied yoga and astrology. I had lost all contact with him since the beginning of World War Two.

My German visitors promised me to find out his current address, and I was left waiting impatiently for the day when I could again have contact with my friend Boris.

Meanwhile my sharp hearing abilities continued unfolding with astonishing speed. Luckily I started getting used to this new ability and I accepted it as one does with an unavoidable fact, as it didn’t upset me anymore.

However, by no means did I get closer to any trail of my anonymous “ friends from space”. I wasn’t satisfied with any explanations that are given by parapsychologists, spiritualists, occultists, ufologists and God knows how many other “’ists”, because I wanted to know for sure, and convince myself through personal experience and not be satisfied with the explanation of others.

I started to become more relaxed with time, though I still hadn’t overcome my aversion for the tape voices yet.

One evening I was lying on the couch in my studio and tried to look at all the events in an objective way. Basically I felt sorry that it had come to the break-up with these unknown speakers. I felt a vast emptiness; a painful loss and I didn’t really know if the broken relationship could be resumed without the risk of new disappointments.

I tried to gain a perspective on my life, for I wanted to find its essential meaning. Yes, what exactly is the meaning, the significance of a human life?

43 I remembered how as a small child I had often felt adventures of unending peace and happiness, and how I sunk deep into timeless existence and how these silent ecstasies had become increasingly rare the years.

Other experiences passed me by, the war, the revolution, marriage, divorce, creative happiness,  disappointments and success. However, above all was the shining light of the eternal adventure, true, real and unending. No doubt those experiences formed the core of my being, and I asked myself if such “silent ecstasy”, such deep sinking into the mysterious would gain any clarity for me.

Slowly I sank into a condition of peaceful release, and became very still internally, though I was wide-awake and fully conscious of my surroundings.

Then something happened that never happened before. I clearly heard a muffled male voice speak, at no more than three yards distance; ”Listen to me – take part in the work…” The voice spoke in German.
My breath stopped, and at the same time I felt an icy grip on my throat. In one motion I jumped up and hastily opened the window and began to draw in deep breaths of the cold winter air.

This left me in a kind of shock, but at the same time with a liberating relief as well. This contact, the boldest of them all, came in the right moment!

“Listen to me, take part in the work…” wasn’t this a call to continue with teamwork? In that instant, it was fully clear to me that the contacts, which started a year ago, should not be broken off, for this whole thing was obviously more serious and more important than I had been able to recognize until now.

44 I quickly recovered from my shock. The refreshing feeling of a recovered mental community filled me with joy and gave me my old confidence again.

Despite all my errors and misunderstandings, my invisible friends did not forget me and after the ice was broken, I decided shortly before Christmas to take up the contact by means of my tape recorder once again.


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