by Dana Howard

Introduction:

Dana Howard’s contact, Diane (also known as Val-Deena Thor), is a highly evolved Venusian. Dana speaks of her ET friends with high reverence as they relate their wisdom through her in the effort to inform and awaken the earthman.

Unlike the odd looking humanoids and grey aliens of today, the saucer pilots of the contactee era were so human in appearance that it is said they could easily blend in with average Americans, walking down the streets of Anytown, USA totally undetected. They were mostly Caucasian looking, had long, wavy, blond hair with piercing blue or green eyes.

Diane On Disease And Destruction

It was a night of desert violence. The winds lashed with fury against the little yellow cottage I called my home. I had spent many winters on the desert, and long since had come to accept the hurricane winds as part of the desert’s own. But while they lasted they were terrifying in no small degree.

This was the worst of the season. The blasts came with measured force, rising in a high crescendo, then dying down to prepare for the next shattering blast. The desert knew no moderation. It could be tranquil and serene, but when the rains came they were torrential, tearing great holes in the sandy earth. When the winds lashed, the golden sand dunes rose high against the rugged terrain of the desert’s floor. Again, the summer heat was without mercy: blistering, devastating heat that sent thermometers soaring. But, with it all, when the desert was in one’s blood, it was there forever.

My mind came to rest on Diane and all the wonderful things she had said to me. One thought led to another and I was soon absorbed in the present state of world affairs. While good times were booming, a ‘chicken in every pot,’ a ‘car in every garage,’ there was still an undertow of seething unrest, a world in flames beneath us. We were all feeling it in one way or another. One met bleeding souls all along life’s pathway, yet the common cause for grief and sorrow seemed to be absent.

The wars were in a constant state of upheaval, but had not settled down to fighting. In a way, we had sunk back into a pseudo-security, but this only increased the weight of futility. Inferiorities were in evidence everywhere. Arthritis, polio and other crippling diseases were alarmingly on the increase. Confining diseases no longer struck at the aged, but youth, the cream of the crop, were its victims.

While, as in every spiritual crisis, there is need for good leadership, today’s unrest had nothing to do with leadership. The best leaders could not hold back the New Dispensation. The future could not be held intact in the present. The New Dispensation could be speeded up, helped and assisted by the people cooperating with their leaders, but in the last analysis, the best leadership can only give its best where there is unity and cooperation of all.

It was fast becoming apparent to thinking people that our earth was staging a performance of destruction. Old foundations were being smashed. It was no longer “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness,” but a widening of calamity. The regime we reared on greed and selfishness had us bound in a tightened grip, but to the broadened ones it was merely a new dimension in the making.

Although it was a subject of wide discussion, no solution had yet been found. The blame was being placed first on one man, then on another; first on one faction, then on another. Punishment had been meted out, but it served no constructive end. It was apparent on all sides that the time had come to do something about it, for people all over the world were crying out for an answer. Was our great civilization coming to a sudden end? Would it be achieved by means of the atom bomb?

My mind went back into the past. We had waded through floods, fluttered through panics, quaked with the earth, yes, we had even witnessed the sinking of great continents. Many times our world had been in flames. When human error could not be rectified in normal ways, Mother Nature came along with her cosmic eraser.

This was all recorded in the earth’s history, but somehow today was different. We were out in the flood-waters over our heads, but without the ark of “faithful old Noah” to support us.

Bowed down with conscious guilt at my runaway thoughts, I saw at the foot of my bed my heaven-sent visitor; she who had been sent to instruct me; she from whose lips dropped the pearls of unsurpassed wisdom. Robed in spotless white, the emblem of solar power on her breast, she bowed low in greeting.

“These are perilous times, my daughter,” she said. Her soft-toned voice rang through the darkened room. “The ark of Noah has long since rotted away. The time has come for your humanity to build a new ark, a place of refuge where any and every emergency can be contemplated, and the answers forthcoming. Earthman has taken time out for mending and repairs. But they have been surface repairs. He has never built for survival.

“The responsibility vested in workers is greater than at any time in your long histories, for the pattern of the past must not be carried over into your future. It is decreed, your earth shall never again be swallowed in the torment of flood and fire. It shall not be sealed in another geologic age. Nor shall you be forced into a period of centuries-old-sleep. Destruction has been your pattern, but it must be changed to construction.

“Disease and destruction belong to the Sub-World,” she went on. “Destruction begets destruction. Disease begets disease. In the infancy and childhood of your earth, the negatives were stressed. Earth’s humanity was destined to learn through trial and error. But earth’s children have grown weary of the time-worn cycles of suffering and travail. Deep within, they yearn to apply the lessons they have learned to a new way of life.”

How true were Diane’s words. The social burden was growing too heavy for us to bear. Those who tried to carry the load found it weighted down with suffering. Many were succumbing to sudden heart ailments. Cancer and other mass diseases were rampant. Cancer statistics related that one out of five deaths were due to this dread disease. Science was frantically trying find a cure. Millions of dollars were being spent on research, but to date the laboratories had not been successful. This and many more contributing factors would seem to indicate we had reached the peak of material greatness and were on the way down again.

Diane, as usual, picked up my thoughts.

“Cancer is a dread disease to be sure, my daughter. It is born of mass inertia. Cancer is a psychic disease. Its germs are bred in the floating flotsam of the earth’s fetid atmosphere. But it is not disease as you know it that is devouring your earth. You have sustained the negative viewpoint for a long period of years. It has pulled you down to the negative level. Mass-inertia has become mass-crystallization. Earthman does not know how to break up this crystallization. He has sought release in alcohol, in sex-mania, in war and in violence. The greater his agitation, the more he has sought a solution in violence. It has become an unquenchable must. His cancer must be fed, but in feeding, it is not satisfied. Ultimately it will devour him.

“Disease is a vicious entity, my daughter. And I think you will agree . . . your earth’s therapeutic measures are inadequate. Chemicalization as a method of purification can go only so far. When carried to extremes, the elements that purify can also destroy. How sad it is, for as the emphasis of destruction prevails, it would be just as easy to swing to the constructive side. Your earth has made rapid strides in cleanliness and sanitation. The outer measure is good, for it is a saying with earthlings: ‘cleanliness is next to godliness’.

“Your world was created out of evolution’s strong threads, some good, some bad. Earthman has tried to repair that which did not meet with his approval. This sated his false ambitions, but it did not satisfy the devouring devils within. Physical manifestation must eventually crumble and fall, just as thrones and kingdoms have fallen. Destruction is a magnet. Allegiance is given to the pattern of destruction and the diseases of disintegration set in. Structure-tissue degenerates. Disease germs are buried deep in the bone and sinew and humanity at large.

“Once a train of destruction is started, it must end in a long series of destructive happenings. When the preponderance of thought is destructive, the malignant disease known to your planet earth are the result. When conditions become as they are today, individual effort is too slow. Collective mass effort is necessary.”

Diane waited a moment, to give me a chance to digest her words. It was our way to work together in time of calamity. War effort was always collective. In times of great sorrow, we joined forces with one another. Diane, and others from faraway worlds, would be there for us. Many more would come if the need were great enough. It seemed like a Herculean task to clean up our earth, but with the proper mobilization of force it could be done.

I recalled that chapter in Genesis, and its long chain of “begets.” This symbolized the family spirit, for at the root, all human beings were kin. One lone individual could start the ball rolling toward a long chain of events, good or bad. If people could realize their root relationship in time, towns, cities and eventually the whole world would pull out of its deep grooves of error.

“Can we do it?” I questioned, coming out of my musing, “or will we be stilled by our monstrous weapons of destruction?”

“Fear not, my daughter. Just as earthman has brought wrath down upon himself, he will, in time, turn to peaceful ways. When he decides to give his allegiance to the all-pervading God of Love, wrath cannot endure. Earthman does not enjoy the miserable place he has made for himself. He is not proud of his creation. Great or small, he soon tires of it. The soul of man thirsts for better things. It prefers building to destroying. If earthman should elect to make a choice, he would accept peace and contentment to the futile desperation of things destructive.”

“But we do not know how to let go of our old ways,” I argued. “We cannot find our way out of this dungeon of ignorance.”

“When earthman is convinced that his hard efforts bear only bitter fruit, the time will come when he will no longer dig deeper and deeper into the core of his bitterness. He will realize the deep relationship existing between all men. He will know when one wallows in the dirty cesspools, all must wallow. As the harnessed force of the many drag down the few, just so the harnessed force of the few can uplift the many. I cannot stress too often the value of the essences,” she went on. “When this creative essence must pass through the alembic of the human, it gathers to it some of the human element. If this element is destructive, the creative essence is tainted with destructiveness. The creative essence passing through the human alembic is known as ectoplasm. Ectoplasm is the ‘ghost side,’ the negative phase of creative essence. This is why so-called spirit entities are often no more than ‘thought forms’ given life and being by their desire to contact loved ones on the other side of life. The entity is given substance and form by means of ectoplasm emitted through a mediumistic channel. This accounts for the hit-and-miss receptivity coming from the séance room. It accounts for agnostically inclined researchers refusing to be convinced. There is a broad line of demarcation between ectoplasm and the creative essences,” she went on. “Spiritual security lies in spiritualized mass-consciousness. Spiritualized mass-consciousness must be fed on positive plasms. Those who tap the sacred reservoirs are the delegated instruments. They act for the mass. They produce the mass leaven.”

I was beginning to see how earth life might be changed almost in “the twinkling of an eye.” When we accepted the attitude of being willing to change our point of view, one would be rid of the hateful pattern that caused experiences to return again and again. I had rebelled against these repeat performances all my life, but rebelling had given them more power. I yearned for something better, and I knew that every single unit of the human family yearned for it, too. We had searched the earth, we had searched the heavens, hoping for a miraculous change. Throughout history, miracles had happened over night, but the miracles came only when human miseries could not be longer endured.

Now, individual misery had added up to mass-misery. We were skidding faster and faster around the dangerous curves.

Diane, listening to my lamentations from within, said:

“There is no permanence in evil, my daughter. Repentance is long delayed sometimes, but it comes to all.”

“But often we go through a lifetime of wandering,” I returned.

“It appears that way, my daughter. But it is the prodigal son seeking his Father. No one loves evil for evil’s sake. Even in evil-doing, the evil one is but blindly seeking peace for his soul. Evil-doing is earthman’s way of satisfying repressed cravings for better things. Deep inside, every man is clean. Evil is only a persona . . . a mask. This must be cast away when earthman starts his forward march. To be sure, the way to the House of the Father is strewn with obstacles. One must seem to falter, stumble and fall many times on the climb. But new starts are made, and eventually he finds his way, alone.

“The fruits of effort and the fruits of bitterness are plucked on the physical side of life,” she continued. “The nebulous, or unseen side, is reserved for digestion and clearance. Yes, my daughter, the tares man sows he ultimately reaps. But as he casts off the burden of his transgressions . . . as he seeks to make restitution for his errors, the clouds that were dark reveal a silver lining.”

Diane paused to give me time to catch up, then she went on.

“Earthman would not feel rebellious if he understood the lessons he must learn, and why he is learning them. Destruction and disease are the Appolyons of your earth. Could you go down into the hell-pits, the dungeons below, you would see a festering mass of boils, the result of psychic lava that has burst forth in fetid poisons. These poisonous plasms create an appearance, not too unlike the higher plasma. But they are deadly. It is from these infection centers your earth draws its dread diseases, for disease is nothing more than the seeds of the earth’s destructive consciousness.

“Disease germs fight, and are fighting for survival,” she went on. “They are the psychological monsters, bringing pain and suffering and, ultimately, death. Disease, like evil, is but a hard encrustation, for beneath the crust of disease is health. Health is a principle and it cannot be destroyed. Since his advent on earth, earthman has sought high and low for a panacea of his ills. When he connects up with the principle, then he will know health.

“The same principle can be applied to every department of life,” she went on. “Just as your Great One demonstrated that decaying flesh can be transmuted into sound, healthy tissue, in the same way a decaying personal life can become vital and health-giving. Once the goal is seen, human beings will go in throngs to find their paradise. You have seen earthlings rush to find oil and gold. Yes, for plots of the earth itself. Earthman did not consider the hardships, though he often surrendered his body as a price. Then, after he found his treasure he discovered it was not the reality he believed it to be. It was only a mirage.

“The cause of unrest is the constant stirring of desires. It is the human urge to experience and explore. Just as the infant coming to the earth plane tries to break through its shell – just as the butterfly emerges from its chrysalis, there is a subconsciousness churning, fragments of memory clinging from the wheel of rebirth, forcing each one to press on ahead.

“Today, with the earth’s boundary lines melting away, with eyes focused on other planets, when this shell of ignorance has been discarded, your earth will again know paradise. You had it once, my daughter, but when earthman forfeited his heritage the oncoming generations were forced into torment. To think error is to breed error. Again I say to you, today individual effort is too slow. The group must be banded together. Even lifeless matter cannot resist group-thought for all ponderous substance is merely substance that has been weighted down with agonies. It can be transmuted at will. Millions of minds concentrated on the downward arcs can produce an evil. Millions of minds bent on breaking through the shell of bondage can reach the highest star. When all make the effort, all will reach upward. Then all will know the better life.

“My daughter, the damage wrought by erroneous teachings would fill records from earth to sky. Error does not make its appearance at the time, but once the seeds are planted they ultimately bear fruit. The tree grows as sturdy or as weak as its seeds and methods of cultivation.

“Your earth is dotted with trees of error. Only complete uprooting can remove the vicious stumps. When there are no more left, then earthlings will step across the clean soil into the worlds beyond. We will be there to guide their footsteps, for without guidance they would be pushed along by the strongest force.

“Earthman has sunk deep into the psychological grooves. He is today racing against time. He is racing against himself. This will go on until he has fitted himself into the life of the new dimension. When he knows for a certainty that he has reached the last frontiers of this planet, then he will strive in earnest. And he will find his way out.

“As you know, my daughter, a small segment of earthlings has sincerely placed its faith in us. These believe in us. When many more believe, we can come to earth in our planetary bodies. We can make ourselves known to all.

“And now again, I take my leave.”

With a gentle tap on my shoulder, Diane melted into the nothingness. Only her other worldly perfume remained to stay with me throughout the day.

Excerpt from Over The Threshold