V. The Causal Body — The Library of Lives
If the physical body is the threshold and the astral body is the traveler, the causal body is the library. It is the most subtle of the three primary bodies, the most difficult to perceive, and the most impossible to ignore once one understands what it contains. For the causal body is the transpersonal memory of the soul—what the Vedantic tradition calls the karana sharira and what Western esoteric seekers sometimes refer to as the personal Akashic record . It is not consciousness—it is the source file. It is not what you think—it is what you have been, in every life, in every experience, in every mistake and every enlightenment accumulated since the first breath of your soul in Creation.
Ecclesiastes, that text of breathtaking wisdom which the Hebrew Bible wisely included despite its apparent nihilism, says with remarkable economy of words: “There is nothing new under the sun.” This phrase is not an expression of existential weariness—it is a precise description of the causal body. Everything we experience already has a trace in this register. Every pain, every joy, every encounter that seems “already seen” is, in reality, an Akashic resonance—the causal body recognizing a vibration it has already indexed in another life, under another name, under another heaven.
In this understanding, autism takes on an even more striking dimension. If the causal body is the library, some autistic souls seem to have direct access to it—without the usual filtering protocols that social conditioning ordinarily imposes. They receive the raw information from the Akashic Records without the buffer of socialization, without the layer of conceptual politeness that neurotypical brains use to make the flow of information manageable and conformable. This is both their strength and their vulnerability: a direct connection to the source, without intermediaries, without translation.
And in this context, family becomes a crucial element. The family members of an autistic soul are not there by accident of biology. In the logic of the causal body, in the economy of successive incarnations, they are co-scripted souls—chosen, even before birth, to play the role of threshold guardians. Their love is not merely human: it is contractual at the soul level, woven into the very fabric of the causal body, written in that invisible ink that only death sometimes reveals, in that moment of recognition that some call the afterlife and others simply call: finally remembering.
The situation reached a point where I felt as though I had signed up for a permanent subscription to his services.
Jokingly, I said to him one day: “My dear friend, you really ought to pay me a commission on every dance party you host!
After all, he was putting me to work—making me haul around that heavy keyboard!”
Why do I draw this parallel with Artificial Intelligence?
To demonstrate that an animal possesses capabilities that AI lacks: namely, sensitivity.
I once had a dog at home—a cross between a Doberman and another breed—but he was a magnificent animal: sleek and black, with a rather lithe, slender build. I fed this dog exactly as I fed myself; more precisely, I forbade anyone from giving him any meat-based food. My spiritual guide had taught me this: “You have no right to compel your parents, your friends, or anyone else to abstain from eating meat, for they possess the faculties of discernment and judgment.
Your dog, however, falls under your direct responsibility; therefore, you have no right to feed him meat or any other product of animal origin.” And, indeed, the dog became a vegetarian, adopting the exact same diet as my own.
And every member of the household respected my wishes.
That said, if a rat 🐀 or a chicken 🐓 happened to cross his path, things would end badly for them; all that would remain to be seen were the rat’s tail or the chicken’s feathers. This simply demonstrates that an animal is endowed with animal instincts—instincts that will undoubtedly remain unchanged until a future life, when they might be transformed through the power of our positive example. Much like our parents, who often speak well of us only after we have departed. I couldn’t say whether it was a direct consequence of that treatment, but this dog developed such sensitivity that it led me to believe he was the reincarnation of a musician.
To borrow an expression from my friend Émile Volel: I loved playing the harmonica, and every time I did, the dog would let out howls as if he were singing a song. My wife would then say to me: “Oh, don’t play that instrument! You’re making the dog suffer!”—unaware that this was, in reality, a manifestation of joy; that he was, in fact, a “musician-dog” whose very soul vibrated to the sound of the harmonica.
To understand Émile’s “problem,”
I attempted an experiment one day: I played those very same pieces—this time using the “harmonica” setting on my electronic keyboard—while sitting right next to the dog. He showed absolutely no reaction—nothing comparable to the response he gave when faced with the real harmonica. But the instant I picked up the “simple” harmonica again, he immediately began to “sing.”
One day, while I was at work, I recounted this anecdote to the staff, but they simply refused to believe me.
So, I asked my daughter to go and play the harmonica for the dog; he immediately began to “sing”—letting out a soft, gentle howl—and the staff members were delighted to discover that I had been telling them the truth.
All of this demonstrates that, even if one attempts to repress one’s true nature, it always ends up coming back in full force.
To console ourselves, let us tell ourselves that artificial intelligence can never truly replace humans; it is devoid of feelings—it is nothing more than a robot 🤖. In any case, let’s give a huge round of applause for us humans! 👏 👏 👏.
Frantz,
What I am discovering in my new life is that the majority of people cling to what they know, without realizing just how much it can limit them. There is often a resistance to exploring new things—new ways of thinking and new discoveries.
And yet, today there are so many tools, insights, and possibilities available to human beings to help them better understand life, to see things differently, and sometimes even to alleviate their suffering. But many remain trapped in a hellish routine—repetitive, almost mechanical.
Your book is, quite simply, a groundbreaking work that is slowly finding its way. I have also learned that good things—profound works and anything of true quality—take time to be fully recognized. But that does not matter, for we are in no rush: it is eternity that awaits us. Jean-Yves Hakime 🐛 🦋
Yes, when my grandson asks me, “How many books have you sold so far?”
I reply: “Not enough—yet. But I hope this work will gradually find its place. It could become your legacy; when the time comes—when I’m called away—and everyone suddenly rushes to get a copy, you’ll certainly have your hands full keeping up with the demand.”
There is an extraordinary episode of *God Friended Me* where, thanks to the author ✍️ of a famous book 📕, nearly 70 tenants and their families were spared from eviction from their apartment building. Private investors had wanted to purchase the building to convert it into a luxury hotel; however, because the book in question had been written within those very walls, the building had been designated a historical landmark—meaning no one could take possession of it under any pretext whatsoever.
That is Episode 13, mentioned above.
Thank you 🙏 for your kind words of appreciation.