Edgar Caycee said he didn't actually know or even remember when he was when giving a reading to a client. Though when asked, he said the source of his information came from two places: The subconscious mind of the subject he was reading for and the Akashic records - the storehouse where information for each individual on Earth. Whether alive or past, ever part of every person's life is contained in the Akashic realm. Caycee believed that we could all tap into the Akashic and with the information, heal our lives.
n his records, he has given information as to the process he goes through to attain this information. To the client, or if the client is remote, to his secretary, he would state that he now had before him the "records of the entiry now known or called (name)." This is how he described his process:
I see myself as a tiny dot out of my physical body, which lies inert before me. I find myself oppressed by darkness and there is a feeling of terrific loneliness. Suddenly, I am conscious of a white beam of light. As this tiny dot, I move upward following the light, knowing that I must follow it or be lost.
As I move along this path of light I gradually become conscious of various levels upon which there is movement. Upon the first levels there are vague, horrible shapes, grotesque forms such as one sees in nightmares. Passing on, there begin to appear on either side misshapen forms of human beings with some part of the body magnified. Again there is change and I become conscious of gray-hooded forms moving downward. Gradually, these become lighter in color. Then the direction changes and these forms move upward and the color of the robes grows rapidly lighter. Next, there begin to appear on either side vague outlines of houses, walls, trees, etc., but everything is motionless. As I pass on, there is more light and movement in what appear to be normal cities and towns. With the growth of movement I become conscious of sounds, at first indistinct rumblings, then music, laughter, and singing of birds. There is more and more light, the colors become very beautiful, and there is the sound of wonderful music. The houses are left behind, ahead there is only a blending of sound and color. Quite suddenly I come upon a hall of records. It is a hall without walls, without ceiling, but I am conscious of seeing an old man who hands me a large book, a record of the individual for whom I seek information.
From Reading 294-19
